Free Too Little, Too Late by Marta Tandori

some animal who would’ve also killed me had Mama not shot him first.”
    “Himmler thought he was creating a master race.” He stared at her with unseeing eyes. “More like a race of emotional imbeciles!”
    “What are you talking about?”
    “She should have been able to overcome confrontation and come out victorious.” He shook his head sadly, as if unable to come to terms with what had happened. “Lilly wasn’t made of the right stuff, but you obviously were.”
    “Just barely!” she cried. “No thanks to you, I might add.”
    “War always has casualties,” he told her vehemently, “and there must always be those who are sacrificed for the greater good.”
    “Is that all we were to you - human sacrifices?”
    “What’s done is done.” Her father cleared his throat. “Himmler’s Lebensborn program had its flaws; flaws which should have been corrected but there had been no time. No one expected the defeat of the Third Reich.”
    “And yet it was defeated.” The time for chit-chat was clearly over. “Now that we’ve caught up on old times, what did you want to talk to me about?”
    He got up and went to his desk. Picking up a leather billfold, he brought it over to the coffee table. “How much will it cost me to get rid of you and that little noodle brain?”
    Kate turned pale as a ghost. “What did you just call her?”
    “Exactly what she is, a little half-whit,” he told her succinctly.
    Each of his words had the impact of a physical blow and Kate recoiled from his presence by sinking as far into the sofa as she could.
    “Do you know what we used to do with little half-whits like her?” Karl’s tone was taunting, contemptuous. “We used to tie sacks over their heads and drown them!”
    “You sick bastard!” Kate cried. “That little noodle brain, as you so callously called her, is a part of you. Wouldn’t it be ironic if she grew up to look exactly like her grandfather?”
    “How much?” he asked again. Picking up his glass, Karl finished off the rest of his scotch in a single gulp. His glass missed the table and landed on the carpet.
    His clumsiness only made Kate more incensed. “You think buying me off will make me forget about you and Irving going at it or the fact that you both raped me? Not a chance!” she spat out. “I wonder what your wife will say when she finds out she married a sick monster who gets his kicks fucking her son,” she continued coldly, “or that her beloved son, the future governor of California, is a sadistic rapist like her husband?” Kate gave him a cold smile that never reached her eyes. “I bet that would thrill her plenty, maybe enough to divorce you and disown him.” She stood up, ready to leave.
    Karl crossed his arms over his massive chest. “It’ll be your word against ours.”
    Kate faltered, but only for a second. “About Sonja, perhaps. But I’d like to see you try and explain each of the entries in your little black notebook.” She watched him go pale. “You do remember that notebook, don’t you, Papa – the one that detailed the daily executions at the extermination camp? Did I mention I have it and that I plan on using it to destroy you?”
    “You bitch!”  
    It looked like he was about to attack her but Kate was ready for him. “Don’t even think of touching me.” Reaching into her purse for the gun, Kate held it in front of her, trying to stop her hands from shaking.
    Karl Bauer came up short at the sight of it. “You wouldn’t dare!”
    Kate pointed the gun at her father’s chest. “Do you really want to take that chance?” she asked.
    Her father suddenly laughed.
    “What’s so funny?” she demanded.
    “You,” he replied. “You had me going for a minute with that silly prop gun.” His voice was soft, almost menacing as he slowly circled around her, the effects of the alcohol impeding his movements. “You, my dearest Katya, are a formidable product of superior genetic breeding.”
    Her father’s words