Lynda Plante - Entwined

"Can you tell me about Rosa?"

Ulrich paused, and then said sharply, "She was very cold, aloof. Exceptionally intelligent, but deeply disturbed. She thought we were persecuting her husband when nothing could have been further from the truth. She was quite cruel to me and my wife about a small debt. For the last fifteen years of her life she was bedridden. I would say she was a deeply unhappy woman."

When Helen asked about Rebecca he took his time to answer. "They had a great deal of trouble with her in Canada, I was told, but she seemed to settle down in Philadelphia. All in all I've seen her maybe three or four times."

"Was she adopted?"

Ulrich Goldberg coughed, and asked her to repeat the question.

"Were you aware of the fact that Rosa Goldberg couldn't have children?"

"Yes, I guess."

"Then you knew Rebecca was adopted?"

"I was never told."

"Was it perhaps because she may have been adopted illegally?"

"As I already told you, we were not close and in Philadelphia we didn't see one another much. I was not privy to his affairs."

"Mr. Goldberg, I am very grateful to you for talking to me. If you think of anything which may be of help to my patient, please contact me. May I give you my number at the hotel?"

Helen gave him the information and then, almost as an afterthought, asked how well he knew Frau Lena Klapps. She was surprised to hear that he had never met her, he had traced her only via Rosa Muller's address book. The sole telephone number he found for her was at work, at the bureau of records. After the death of his cousin, he had wished to contact anyone who might know his cousin's heir. Not being in touch with Rebecca, he did not even know if she was still alive.

"My cousin left everything to Rebecca, and it was at his funeral that I last saw her. She refused to let me go into the house. At the funeral she spoke to no one. She left almost immediately after she was told she was the only beneficiary of David's will. We were disappointed, had a misguided hope that David would forget our differences... but he left everything to her. We knew he was rich, but the fortune was much larger than we could have guessed. Rebecca's husband's lawyers settled the sale of the house and business."

Helen hung up and began to pace the room once again. Louis had remarked on a number of occasions that Vebekka had inherited her father's estate. What he had never disclosed was that it was vast. If his lawyers had settled the estate, he had to know... Clearly he had lied about not knowing her true name. Helen found herself wondering whether Louis wanted to divorce Vebekka, or simply have her institutionalized so as to gain full access to her money — or had he access to it already?

Helen's mind reeled. She knew she had to speak to Lena Klapps, but now it was truly far too late to call her. She decided the best thing was to see her before Frau Klapps went to work.

Helen jumped when she heard a knock at her door. It was Louis, he said he couldn't sleep, and excused himself by saying he had seen her light was on. He was hesitant. "I feel in need of some company."

Helen smiled, and said she was glad that he had come in because she was anxious to read through the papers. Louis looked puzzled for a moment, and then remembered the package. "Oh. Yes, of course."

"I promised Dr. Franks I would look through them before tomorrow. We can do it together."

Helen followed Louis into his suite. He asked if she was hungry, and she realized that she was. "Yes, maybe a sandwich." Louis picked up the phone and asked room service to send up some seltzer water and chicken sandwiches, then he went to get the newspapers.

They sat at the large oval table. Louis took out five newspapers and chose The New York Times . "I was reading the first section, and Vebekka had the real-estate section. Helen?... Helen, did you hear me?"

Helen stared at him, her arms folded. "Why didn't you tell me? You've known all along she was Rebecca Goldberg! I just don't understand why you have lied to me!"

Louis looked for his glasses. Finding them, he slipped them out of their case. "Haven't we been through this?"

"No. Why did you never tell me Vebekka was an heiress?"

His eyes flashed angrily over the half glasses, but he spoke with detachment. "Perhaps, my dear, I did not think it was any of your business."

Helen was stunned. "Not my business? I see. Why am I here. Louis?"

He opened the paper. "Because at your suggestion, we brought Vebekka to Dr. Franks."

"And you didn't think it was important that I know her real identity? Louis. Ulrich Goldberg told me about the money, he said your lawyers settled the estate."

"They did, and very well. They have cared for my finances since I was a child."

The room service arrived and the seltzer water and sandwiches were placed on the table, but Louis continued to look through the paper, not acknowledging either the waiter or Helen as she poured his drink and put it by his elbow. She sat opposite him, and reached for the newspaper.

"it Vebekka is Institutionalized, will you have access to her fortune?"

Louis still did not raise his bead, "it's immaterial, there isn't much left. I presume the costs of keeping her in any kind of nursing establishment will eat into what little remains."

He continued turning the pages, muttering that he couldn't find anything that could possibly be of significance. His reluctance to look up and speak to her directly infuriated Helen. Suddenly, she reached over and snatched the paper from his bands. Louis tried to retrieve it, and in so doing knocked over the glass — it spilled over him and he sprang to his feet, snapping: "That was a bloody stupid childish thing to do!"

"Was it?... Was it? "

He stared at her coldly. "Yes, it was." He removed his glasses, picked up a napkin, and began to wipe oil Ins dressing gown.

Helen patted the table dry with a napkin. "I am trying to understand you. You knew all along Vebekka was the daughter of David and Rosa Goldberg, but you never told me, you simply stood by.is I kept making inquiries like an idiot. You wasted my time! Now I find out your wife inherited millions — another small fact you deliberately withheld."

Louis burst out in fury, "Leave me alone, just leave me alone!!" Helen watched in exasperation as he retreated into his bedroom.

She collected herself and started to gather the newspapers. The front page of the Times had fallen on the floor. Helen bent down and picked it up. It was wet and she dabbed at it with her napkin. Her eye fell on a small article at the bottom right-hand corner. ANGEL OF DEATH FOUND.Helen glanced over the single paragraph: Josef Mengele, the most wanted Nazi war criminal, had been found dead on a beach in Brazil...

Frenzied, Helen was looking through the other papers, scanning each page, when Louis returned, shamefaced.

"Helen, I'm sorry... You are right, perhaps we should talk."

She turned to him. "I think I've found it. Remember you told Franks how terrified she was of a dark angel? You said you heard her sobbing that night, just after the newspaper incident. Look at the bottom of the front page."

Louis took the stained paper in his hands. "What am I looking for?"

Helen leaned over his shoulder and pointed. "Angel of Death... Josef Mengele, it's mentioned in two papers, small paragraphs, but they seem to be a possible link to her screaming; to her nightmare of the dark angel!"

Louis read the articles while Helen paced up and down. "If she was adopted in Berlin, perhaps this is the connection. Louis, I am sure she was adopted..."

"I did not know she was adopted, believe me, I didn't know. Where is all this leading us? If you think there is a connection, what should I do?"