Lycanthropos by Jeffrey Sackett Read Free Book Online Page A

his mouth shut…"
    "You’ve found your man," Louisa commented glumly.
    "...someone who can be relied upon to keep certain things to himself. In addition, I need someone with medical knowledge and some experience with psychology. I know that you hold a medical degree, and I seem to recall that you did some studies of the theories of the Jew Freud. Am I correct?"
    "Yes, on both counts," Weyrauch replied. "But Freud’s theories are not…well…"
    "I know, I know," Schlacht said impatiently. "When fighting an insidious enemy, extreme protective measures have to be taken to guard against subversion. I know that Freud’s books have been burned and his theories are anathema, but that doesn’t mean that we, the elite, cannot familiarize ourselves with them or apply them where needed. The ideas of Einstein have been treated the same way, but that hasn’t stopped our research into the possibility of creating an offensive weapon deriving its power from nuclear fission."
    Louisa frowned. "What are you talking about?"
    He sat down behind his desk and smiled at her. "I am talking about state secrets, my dear, things about which very few people have been told. The point is the fact that Freud and Einstein are Jews does not in and of itself mean that their discoveries are without merit or use."
    "And you are interested in the works of Freud?" Weyrauch asked. "If so, Helmuth, there are probably many people who have a greater knowledge of his theories than I have."
    "It should be easy to find them," Louisa muttered. "Most of them are in concentration camps."
    "Ah, Louisa," Schlacht laughed amiably. "Always the wry wit. No, I am not interested in exploring Freud’s theories personally. I am interested in…" He paused for a moment, as if considering something. "Tell me, Gottfried, have you had any experience with forensic medicine, autopsies and the like?"
    Weyrauch shrugged. "Standard medical school study, nothing more. Why do you ask?"
    "Are you capable of determining the cause of death, when presented with a cadaver?"
    "I suppose so, as long as there isn’t anything exotic or mysterious involved. I am not a research chemist, you know."
    "I know, I know," he mused, still thinking. Then he stood up and said, "I want you to see something we have in the basement. Louisa, I suggest you stay here. What I have to show Gottfried is not particularly pleasant."
    "I have a strong stomach, Helmuth," she said. "I need one, to live in Germany ."
    He shrugged. "As you wish. Follow me." Schlacht led them from his office out into the hallway of the one-time palace of the Magyar nobility. As they walked along the marble corridor, Weyrauch looked up at the murals that had been painted upon the high, vaulted ceilings and contrasted them with the blank, empty walls. The square and rectangular variations of color indicated that at one time these walls had been hung with paintings, and that the paintings had been removed. He sighed, remembering what he had heard about Hermann G M ring’s private art collection, personal spoils from a despoiled continent.
    At every corner and at every door they passed S.S. guards, who snapped to attention and saluted Colonel Schlacht. He returned the salutes in an impatient, perfunctory manner. They turned at the end of the hallway and descended a flight of long, wide stairs. "Gottfried," Schlacht was saying, "I am going to show you some human remains. I want you to try to determine the cause of death."
    "But surely you must have people at your disposal who can answer that question to your satisfaction," Weyrauch protested.
    "You misunderstand me," Schlacht said. "I already know the cause of death. But I want you to see for yourself and come to your own conclusions. You’ll understand why soon enough."
    They proceeded down a long corridor and approached a large door which was flanked by S.S. guards. One reached behind him and pushed open the door and then joined his comrade in