Page 65 of The Little Liar
“It’s different these days.”
“It’s not! It’s where they all live! It’s where they came from!”
“Fannie. I need to do this.”
“Why?” She was sobbing now. “Why can’t you leave this behind?”
“Because I can’t!” he screamed. “Because I see it every night! Because people have to pay for what they did!”
Fannie squeezed her eyes shut. She heard her daughter crying from the other room. Her shoulders slumped. When she spoke again, her voice was shaking.
“Is this about your brother?”
“What?”
“Is this about Nico? You want revenge?”
“Stop talking foolish. I want to help this man find Nazis and give them what they deserve, that’s all! And I’m going to do it!”
He glared at her, his jaw set tight. But he had to look away because, and I should know, she was right. Yes, a big part of him wanted Udo Graf captured, convicted, and executed a thousand times over.
But part of him also wanted this man in Vienna to track down someone else, a certain young Nazi helper by the name of Nico Krispis.
And bring him to justice.
Udo Visits an Amusement Park
The enemy of my enemy is my friend.That expression goes back centuries. But in the aftermath of the Second World War, it played out with such astonishing speed, few people even realized what was happening.
High-ranking Nazis had long been targets of the American military. But as the Reich began to crumble, America set its sights on a new enemy. Even before the Wolf swallowed a cyanide capsule and put a bullet in his head—and his nation surrendered eight days later—U.S. intelligence agents had made a quiet shift in strategy. Germany was done. The Soviet Union was the next major threat. And nobody knew, hated, or fought harder against the Russians than the Nazis.
So when the war ended, and the ratlines allowed thousands of SS members to escape, many of them were secretly invited to come work for the United States government, which would provide new names, new jobs, new homes, and new protection, so long as they helped take down their old Russian nemesis.
Such recruitment was never shared with the American public, nor would it be for many decades. This should not surprise you. When it comes to lies, governments can outlast anyone.
Udo Graf, who’d taken a slow ship across the Atlantic Ocean, had been living in a Buenos Aires apartment for a year. He had a false name and a job at a butcher shop. He’d learned enough Spanish to get by.This is all temporary, he told himself, part of a long, deliberate plan to return to power. He kept his voice low and his ears open.
By early 1947, Udo knew of at least three other relocated Germans living within five miles of him; all had been officers in the SS. They met secretly on weekends. They shared rumors of fellow Nazis who were recruited to the United States. Udo let it be known that he would welcome such an opportunity.
One Saturday, while he was cooking a veal cutlet, Udo heard a knock on his apartment door. A voice, steady, low, and in perfect German, recited the following words from the hallway:
“Herr Graf. Please let me in. It is safe. I bring an offer. I think you will want to hear it.”
Udo removed the frying pan from the flame. He slid toward the door. He kept a pistol in the pocket of a coat on a nearby hook. He put his hand on that pistol now.
“Where is this offer from?” he said.
“Don’t you want to know what it is first?”
“Where is it from?” Udo repeated.
“Washington, D.C.,” the man said. “It’s in—”
Udo opened the door. He grabbed his coat.
“I know where it is,” he told the stranger. “Let’s go.”
***
