V Alexander - The Taster

I opened the door and stepped inside. The room was filled with cookbooks, kitchen equipment and logs, much like Cook’s office at the Berghof. A medicine cabinet on the back wall glinted in the light. A black skull and crossbones stared out at me from the frosted glass. I found the key to the padlock and popped it open. All the poisons I had studied in my classes at the Berghof, and more, were inside. I was unsure which to take. Mercury chloride and arsenic were too slow to act and required a larger quantity than was in the cabinet. It seemed my only choice was cyanide, either the granules or the capsule. I decided upon the capsule. I had seen its effect on Ursula: quick and nearly painless. The trick would be how to break it and get the liquid mixed in with the food. I knew the consequences if I was caught. I would be executed. Either way, the trap had been laid by Minna. If I did nothing and let her live, she might report Karl and me to the Gestapo. If I killed her, I would become a murderer. That thought, abhorrent as it was, filled me with a creeping dread. But what could I do? It was either Minna or us.

I dropped the capsule into my pocket, secured the cabinet and found an inventory log to carry out. Else, looking forlorn, still sat at the table waiting for Minna. Otto was bringing out the lunch dishes. I returned Cook’s keys, making sure she spotted the book I was carrying, and then returned to Else. I looked at the dishes spread out on the table and decided on the potato casserole. Enough runny liquid had settled over the dish that the cyanide might not be noticed.

Else sighed. “I wish Minna would get here. I don’t want to taste lunch, too.”

“She’ll be here soon.” I brushed against one of the spoons and knocked it off the table, sending it skittering across the floor.

Else got up to retrieve it.

I only had a few seconds. “I’m sorry,” I said, and turned quickly. No one from the kitchen was looking, and, fortunately, no SS officers were in the room. I broke the capsule against the bowl’s rim. The poison slid down the side into the potato dish. I thrust the two halves of the capsule back into my pocket. Else walked back with the spoon in hand. The faint odor of bitter almonds drifted above the dish. I turned quickly, apologized again and asked her if she would return the inventory book to the corner desk. As she walked away, I stirred the dish while my heart fluttered in my chest. The cyanide was infused into the food and the aroma faded. I covered the dirty spoon with my hand and took a few deep breaths to calm myself.

Cook summoned Else into the kitchen, and just as quickly sent her back. “I have to taste lunch with some of the other tasters,” she said with a frown. “Minna hasn’t shown up. They’re looking for her. And I’m already full.” She patted her stomach.

Panic surged through me. “This spoon is dirty. I’ll get a clean one.” I walked to an empty sink and washed the utensil. I left it in the sink and dried my hands with a cotton towel. Turning away from the other kitchen help in the room, I wiped any trace of my fingerprints off the capsule fragments and wrapped the towel around them. A few potato peelings lay nearby. I picked them up with the cloth. There was a waste receptacle near Otto. I unfolded the towel over the wastebasket and dropped the peelings and the capsule into it.

My heart was nearly in my throat. Where was Minna? If she did not come to work, how could I save Else? I didn’t want her to be poisoned.

Else chastised me as I walked past her to my station. “You forgot the spoon.”

I laughed halfheartedly, but it was too late to get another one. Dora had left the mess hall. Otto and Cook stood across from Else to watch the tasting. Cook told Else to begin.

“Let me,” I said from across the room. “Else has been on duty all morning and I’m ready to resume my service to the Führer. I’ve been away too long.”

Otto snickered. “You are the brave one—after the lesson I taught you.”

Cook and Else objected, but Otto waved me on. I picked up a fork and started with the salads and vegetable and fruit dishes at the right end of the table, knowing a casserole full of poison awaited me in the center. My stomach churned as I tasted down the line. I smelled each dish carefully before tasting and commented on how excellent each was. In fact, I tasted nothing except the dryness of my mouth.

When I came to the potato dish, I picked up the bowl, lifted it slowly and then sniffed the contents. My nose twitched and I smelled it a few more times.

Otto’s eyes narrowed. “Is something wrong?”

“Is this dish intended for the Führer?” I asked.

“Of course. It’s one of my specialties and a favorite of the Führer’s.”

“Do your special dishes always contain poison? I smell cyanide.”

Otto lunged toward the table. “Impossible! I made it myself. And I did not poison it as a test for the taster. Not today!”

“What is this about?” Cook asked. “Is this a joke on us again?”

I put the dish back on the table. “This is no joke. There’s poison in this casserole.”

“Else, do you smell it?” Cook asked.

Else hesitated, fear shining in her eyes. I urged her on.

She leaned forward and sniffed the dish. “I can’t tell. It smells off. Something’s wrong.”

Cook immediately called for an SS guard. A contingent of them rushed into the kitchen. “Test this for poison and search the kitchen. We’ll get to the bottom of this. Meanwhile, Magda, taste the other dishes. Else, I’ll bring out another sample of the casserole. Taste it.”

We did as Cook instructed. I knew Else was safe. The SS rummaged through everything: the drawers, the utensils, the wastebaskets. It would only be a matter of time before they found the broken capsule in the trash. Trying hard to hide any display of nerves, I glanced at them as they worked.

As we watched—for we were instructed not to leave the mess hall—Else leaned to me and said, “My God, Magda, I could have been poisoned. Otto could have killed me with one of his tricks.” Her face turned pale. “I must get out of this job.”

I patted her shoulder. “Calm down. I have it from the Führer that Otto will no longer be conducting these tests.”

Dora, dour and shaken, appeared at the doorway. She stood silent for a moment and then announced, “Minna is dead—strangled with one of her own stockings.”

Else gasped.

I was shocked, too, but I had a strong suspicion who killed her. Karl had murdered her. Who else could have done it? My body went numb. Karl a murderer? I didn’t know what to think. He had saved us, but had he also damned us to a worse fate?

The SS found the ampoule in the trash near Otto’s station. His corpulent face turned crimson and he vehemently denied to the Colonel he had poisoned the dish. Else and I were questioned as well by the officer. He scrutinized me more severely, scowling the whole time, but my companion and Cook vouched for my integrity and loyalty to the Reich. They asked him, “Why would she poison herself? She’s already been poisoned once in her service.”

After more than two hours, Else and I were released. The Colonel led Otto away for more questioning. I was sure Hitler would pardon him and he would be free by the Führer’s dinnertime. Cook ordered me to be on hand for an evening tasting. I was concerned—if Otto was released, he might really try to kill me.

The dinner tasting was without incident, however. Cook reported with satisfaction that Otto was no longer in the service of the Führer and that he had been ordered to a barracks on the Eastern Front.

Karl was waiting for me outside the mess hall when I finished about ten. No one was around. He grabbed my arm and led me into the forest.