The Manuscript I the Secret by Blanca Miosi, Gretchen Abernathy

had unearthed Mengele’s detailed studies and notes from experiments done on twins in Auschwitz. They were written in Latin, which, as luck would have it, Francesco could read, though Claudio’s poor friend had been horrified and had refused to continue translating.
    Claudio wondered what a Nazi who wanted to hide away would do. Fly under the radar, naturally. He would use another name and have contact with other Germans. Despite his best intentions and all-consuming curiosity, Claudio could not set out at once to look for Mengele. The details of the Business and daily life as well as the long delays between phone calls and letters of inquiry dismayed him with constant delay. In time, Claudio discovered that Mengele and his wife had divorced, that he had a son named Rolf, and that his last appearance in Europe had been in 1956. Perhaps he had intended to return to Armenia and recover the documents, but something serious must have stopped him. Claudio learned this last detail in conversation with a friend in the Swiss embassy who seemed in the know about what had gone down back in 1956, given all the fuss the German government made in the attempt to prove it was not acting as a cover for fugitive Nazis. The fact is that Bonn never put forth the effort nor acted with the necessary diligence. The West German embassy in Asunción discovered that Mengele was living in Paraguay, yet when records were requested from the Paraguayan Ministry of the Interior, the embassy claimed that all they received were some irrelevant documents. So they said.
    By the time he was finally able to plan his trip to Paraguay, Claudio was convinced that Stroessner’s government was hiding Mengele. He would start there. Ten months after the original discovery, now in Asunción, he got in touch with Alejandro von Eckstein, a personal friend of President Stroessner. Boasting recommendations from the Swiss government, Claudio had no trouble locating and gaining an audience with von Eckstein. He obtained information much easier than he would have imagined possible regarding some of Mengele’s friends. He headed about twenty miles north of Encarnación to the border town of Hohenau. The town was an exact replica of any number of German villages; except for the swaying palm trees all around, Claudio would have sworn he was in Europe. He entered a bar, went to the counter, and ordered a beer.
    “Good afternoon, what a nice place you have here,” he said in German.
    “Good day...yes, thank you. It’s a peaceful little town,” the man across the counter answered.
    “Is there somewhere I can get some groceries?” Claudio asked, trying to drum up a conversation.
    “Of course. Two blocks up there’s a store that sells groceries and hardware.”
    “Ah, how I would love to live somewhere like this, far from the city but with the feel of European countryside.”
    The bartender smiled proudly. He was pleased that Hohenau should be considered a desirable location.
    “There’s a reason they call it ‘New Bavaria.’” The bartender raised his chin for emphasis.
    “Do you know of any land for sale around here?”
    The man masked a smile and looked at Claudio closely.
    “If you would like to move here, you should talk with Mr. Alban Krug. He’s in charge of our landowner’s society.”
    “And where might I find him?”
    “At his farmhouse, up north.”
    The man started polishing the bar, indicating his preference to end the conversation. Claudio had predicted as much, and the shift revealed to him the superficiality of the paradisiacal pretext of the place. It was a show in which the actors had not yet quite gotten used to their roles.
    “Up north...any landmarks to guide me?”
“It’s the Krug place. You can ask along the way.”
    Claudio got back in the truck he had rented and, after making a few more inquiries, headed down highway Hohenau 4 from Caguarene toward the Krug estate. The enormous white stucco house had a huge red gabled roof and a