Too Little, Too Late Read online

  TOO LITTLE, TOO LATE

  By: Marta Tandori

  Kindle version, cover design: FormattingExperts.com

  For my father, Desi Tandori – a man of extraordinary courage in the face of insurmountable odds.

  The sins of a parent cannot be inherited…but some legacies are just too powerful to escape.

  Contents

  Prologue

  PART ONE

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  PART TWO

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  PART THREE

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Chapter 37

  Chapter 38

  Chapter 39

  Chapter 40

  Chapter 41

  Chapter 42

  Chapter 43

  Chapter 44

  Chapter 45

  PROLOGUE

  July, 2011

  Los Angeles, California

  The dirty clothes and foul body odor were a lethal combination, infusing the already cloying humidity with a pervasive stink. Seventeen-year-old Karen Devane almost gagged on it as she got out of her car and cautiously approached the derelict beating up on her grandmother’s custom-made mailbox. Until now, Karen’s exposure to the homeless had been limited to the few winos on Hollywood Boulevard she and her friends regularly used to score their booze but those tended to be straightforward commercial transactions, requiring very little in the way of social interaction. The last thing she expected was to find one of them out here in Laurel Canyon and with her grandmother away in San Francisco for the weekend, Karen had no idea how to deal with the present situation.

  Fishing her cell phone out of the pocket of her shorts, she speed-dialed her mother’s number – and got bumped directly to her voicemail. That meant her mother was showing a house and couldn’t be reached. Karen immediately felt the familiar rush of resentment. Other agents could text and multi-task up the Ying-yang while showing a house but not her precious mother. Carriage Trade had dubbed Eve Stanton “Realtor to the Stars” when she’d graced their cover earlier this year and there was certainly no doubting the fact that her mother’s dedication and drive had gotten her to the top of L.A.’s competitive realty market. The only problem was, her mother’s dedication ended with her job. As a wife and mother, good old Eve sucked. Work had always taken top priority, with Karen and her father coming in a dismal second and third place, respectively. Too bad she didn’t have the option of bailing on her mother the way her father had when he’d demanded a divorce last year. Needless to say, both her parents had tried being diplomatic about the whole fiasco by telling her it hadn’t been anyone’s fault; that they’d just grown apart, blah, blah, blah, but Karen had never bought into their no-fault fairytale, especially after the divorce negotiations turned toxic. Thank God her grandmother had been there for her – but then again, Grams always was.

  Her friend, Laurie, got out of the car and staggered over on legs as thin as toothpicks. “Why’s the chick goin’ ape-shit over the stupid mailbox?”

  Karen shrugged. “How should I know?”

  “Maybe she’s comin’ down off somethin’.”

  “And if anybody knows a thing or two about that, it’s gotta be you, right Sniffer?” Josh Preston, Karen’s boyfriend-of-the-month, joined them and slung a possessive arm around Karen’s bare shoulders.

  Laurie glared at him through rheumy eyes. “Don’t call me that.”

  “What – can’t handle the truth?”

  “Whatever the fuck ya think ya know about me,” Laurie shot back, “ain’t jack shit.”

  Josh shrugged with feigned nonchalance. “I just call’em as I see’em.”

  Karen was quick to intervene. “Knock it off, you two.”

  Josh immediately became indignant. “You’re taking her side?”

  “I’m not taking anyone’s side,” she told him brusquely. “I’m just tired of listening to you two bitch at each other.”

  “I wasn’t the one who asked her to come with us,” he pointed out.

  Karen crossed her arms over her chest. “Well I did, so get over it. As for this whack job here, I’m calling the cops. They can deal with her.”

  “Forget it,” Josh argued. “We’re not going to waste our time waiting for the cops to show. I say we handle her ourselves.”

  Karen looked at the mailbox with misgiving. “I don’t know. What if she has a gun or something?”

  Josh grinned, revealing even, white teeth. “Then she probably would’ve shot the mailbox by now.” He turned to the derelict. “Hey! Can you hear me?” When the woman kept right on kicking the mailbox, he clapped his hands several times to get her attention. “What is your problem?”

  The woman abruptly stopped, her eyes looking startled as they settled on his face.

  “I asked why you’re going spastic over the stupid mailbox,” Josh told her.

  “Trade for tit’s milk.” Her voice was hoarse and barely audible.

  Josh looked at Karen in bewilderment. “What’d she just say?”

  “How should I know?” Karen delicately covered her nose with the back of her hand.

  “Maria trade,” the woman continued, “tit’s milk for April.”

  “It’s not April,” Josh informed her, “it’s July, you sick lesbo.”

  “Lesbo,” she repeated carefully. A huge grin suddenly brightened her worn features as she began chanting in a sing-song voice, “Lesbo, lesbo, lesbo!”

  “Great! Now we got ourselves a parrot,” Karen told him in disgust. She took a tentative step closer to the woman, noting she was a tiny little thing, barely coming up to Karen’s chin. “Why were you kicking my grandmother’s mailbox?”

  The woman went silent again.

  “I asked you a question.” When she still didn’t reply, Karen made a grab for her backpack, hoping to get a rise out of her.

  “No!” the woman yelled. “No take!”

  “Then tell us why you were kicking the mailbox,” Karen insisted.

  “Maria trade,” said the woman in earnest, “tit’s milk for April.”

  Josh shook his head in disgust. “There she goes again with that freaky lesbo thing.”

  A frustrated Karen made another grab for the backpack, this time managing to wrestle it away from her. Shrieking in rage, the woman lunged at her but Karen quickly ducked behind Josh’s solid frame.

  Josh was easily a few heads taller than the woman and effortlessly captured her arms, pinning them against her sides. She struggled to free herself, arms and legs flailing in all directions, but it only made him tighten his grip. “Man, I hope she doesn’t have fleas or something.”

  The woman abruptly threw back her head and butted him in the face.

  “What the fuck!!” A stream of blood squirted out of his nose and down his chin before disappearing under his jaw. “I think she just broke my god-damned nose!”

  “Helluvan improvement, if ya
ask me,” Laurie muttered.

  “No one friggin’ asked you!” Josh shot back.

  “Don’t let go of her, whatever you do.” Karen sprung into action, quickly unzipping the woman’s backpack and turning it upside down. A cracked CD case, a prescription bottle and a handful of flyers advertising what looked to be the opening of a spa in West Hollywood came spilling out – but nothing belonging to her grandmother.

  Laurie eagerly reached for the prescription bottle and opened it with hands that shook. She took a tentative whiff, before scooping out some of the contents and rubbing it along a nasty-looking rash on her left arm.

  “Are you crazy?” asked Karen, giving her friend a look of disgust. “You don’t even know what it’s for.”

  “It’s just some cream,” Laurie retorted. “Don’t have a freakin’ cow.”

  “Forget about the cream,” Josh ordered impatiently. “Check her pockets, for Christ’s sake!”

  “Wait!” Karen was beginning to have some misgivings about the whole thing. “I don’t think she’s got anything. Let’s just let her go.”

  “Forget it,” said Josh curtly. “We’ll let her go after we check her pockets.”

  Laurie staggered over to the woman’s side and stuck her hands inside her shirt pocket. She took her time as she fumbled around inside.

  “Can you go any slower?” he asked impatiently, as he furtively scanned the street.

  Laurie ignored him, her tattooed fingers finally bringing out a handful of lint, a few rubber bands and some random odds and ends. “Nuthin’.” She threw them away.

  The woman began making low-pitched, mewling sounds in the back of her throat.

  “What’s wrong with her?” Josh asked.

  “Like I know?” Karen retorted, shooting the woman a worried look. “Let’s just let her go, okay.”

  “I’m almos’ fuckin’ done.” Laurie’s brows knit together in concentration as her fingers slid into the pockets of the woman’s cargo pants.

  This made the woman go ballistic. “No touch!” Pitching forward and then backwards to gain some momentum, she raised her legs and kicked Laurie squarely in the stomach.

  The kick took Laurie by surprise and she staggered backwards, clutching at her middle.

  “Are you okay?” Karen asked.

  Laurie managed a strangled sound in the back of her throat before she threw up in a series of violent, spastic spurts.

  Karen felt the bile rising in her throat. “For Christ’s sake, did you have to do that here?”

  “Ya think I wanted ta puke?” Laurie weakly wiped at the leftover vomit dribbling down her chin with the back of a tattooed hand. “It’s that bitch’s fault for gettin’ me in the gut!”

  While the two girls argued, the woman managed to twist her body around and sink her teeth into Josh’s upper arm. He rewarded her with a hard slap across the face that sent her sprawling over top the mailbox.

  “Her lip is cut!” Karen shrieked. “Don’t let her get blood on the mailbox!”

  Josh grabbed the woman by the legs and tried pulling her off the mailbox but she refused to let go. “Son of a bitch,” he huffed, “she’s like a god-damned wildcat!”

  The nails holding the hinges of the mailbox suddenly creaked and a minute later, the lid went flying off, sending the woman reeling backwards against Josh’s chest.

  “Tell me you didn’t just break that!”

  Before Josh could reply, the woman furiously charged Laurie with the lid of the mailbox clutched against her front like a shield. “Give back!”

  “Get the hell away from me!” Laurie swung wide, but got nailed in the arm.

  Josh retaliated by picking up a rock from the base of the mailbox and throwing it at the woman. It got her in the stomach and she howled in pain. He quickly followed the first rock with a smaller one which thudded against her forehead. Almost immediately, blood began trickling down from behind her bangs into her eyes.

  Karen grabbed Josh’s arm. “Are you crazy? You’re going to kill her!”

  “Me, crazy?” he defended himself. “What about her? She’s the one who’s fucking psycho-certified!”

  As they argued, the woman abruptly turned and limped down the street.

  She looked at Josh imploringly. “We can’t just let her leave like this!”

  “Sorry, you’re on your own.” His tone was obstinate as he gingerly prodded his broken nose. “There’s no way I’m going near her again.”

  “You’re such an asshole sometimes!” With that, Karen took off after the injured woman, furiously wiping at the sweat pouring down her forehead with the back of an arm. Unable to believe how quickly things had gotten out of hand, she furtively glanced in both directions. Luckily, there didn’t seem to be anyone around. “Wait up!”

  Karen could feel droplets of sweat forming along her spine as she closed the three-yard gap between them with a quick sprint. From the back somewhere, she heard a car gun its engine. Turning towards the sound, she saw an old black sedan leap out from behind a van parked a ways down the street. With a squeal of tires, it hurtled past her and headed straight for the unsuspecting woman.

  “Watch out for the car behind you!”

  Her warning came too late. The car bore right and hit the woman off its passenger side, the impact sending her body flying. Karen heard herself scream and then everything seemed to switch to slow motion as she watched the woman’s body sail through the air before it landed with a dull thud by the side of the road. Instead of stopping, the car kept right on going, careening around the bend with a squeal of tires.

  “Oh fuck, fuck!” With her heart pounding in her chest, Karen could barely breathe. She ran towards the still figure as fast as she could. Dropping to her knees, she carefully turned the woman over. The woman’s forearms were covered in scratches and her face was a series of nasty bruises. There was a huge tear along the front of her shirt that hadn’t been there earlier, probably having been caught on the side of the car when it hit her.

  “Say something – please!” Karen was near hysteria as she gingerly placed her head on the woman’s chest, oblivious to the awful smell or to the sting of hot gravel on her bare knees. She held her breath, listening for a heartbeat, but all she heard was her own. Putting a shaky hand in front of the woman’s open mouth, she waited for a shallow breath. There wasn’t one. It was then that Karen noticed the woman’s neck. It had flopped unsupported when she had turned the woman over and was now at an odd angle to the rest of her body.

  Karen frantically searched her pockets for her cell phone. When she couldn’t find it, she scanned the street in both directions, this time desperately wishing one of her grandmother’s neighbors would magically appear and take charge of the situation. But there was no one around – even her so-called friends had disappeared. The woman’s backpack was lying exactly where Karen had thrown it only moments before; its contents haphazardly scattered across the foot of the driveway, bearing testament to the ugly scene that had transpired.

  Karen looked away in shame. It was then she spied her cell phone, partially hidden among the flyers on the road. She got up and slowly made her way over to it on rubbery legs, forcing herself to remain calm. Her eyes involuntarily darted to the bend in the road where the black sedan had disappeared, then back to the woman’s crumpled body and the blood that had seeped out from somewhere underneath it. Her vision blurred as her eyes filled with tears. That stupid car!! It should’ve slowed down or stopped or something— This was like the aftermath of a gruesome hit in one of those stupid video games her friend’s brother liked to play all the time. In fact, it was just like it…

  In that split second of blinding clarity, it became painfully obvious to Karen that what she had just witnessed had been a hit, so to speak, because whoever had been driving that car had meant to kill the woman.

  PART ONE

  CHAPTER 1

  1945

  Chelmno nad Nerem, Poland

  The females sat on one side of the bus, the mal
es on the other side, two to a seat. The girls were blond-haired, blue-eyed and all wore neatly starched white shirts and black skirts with matching armbands, while the boys shared the same physical characteristics but wore white shirts and black trousers with matching armbands. To the casual observer, each of the pairs of seatmates could have passed for twins. However, their marked similarities extended beyond their identical attire and physical character traits. What made them so unique was that each was a perfect specimen of selective breeding, in most cases fathered by a high-ranking German soldier and a genetically-viable mother, the first of a master race procreated to carry out one man’s legacy.

  Of the twenty-four children on the bus, the eldest was Hans Ubermann, who was fourteen, while the youngest was Katarina Holberg, a tender six-year-old. Technically, Katya (no one ever called her Katarina except for her teachers) was too young to be a part of this group. However, she had been given special dispensation because her eight-year-old sister, Lilly, had begged and pleaded for her to be able to come with them and because the Wehrmacht commander who ran the camp they would be visiting today happened to be Katya and Lilly’s father.