Mortal Danger

someone had flicked off a light switch. Everything was different now that they were married, and Amy was stunned. As long as Amy remained at home, catering to Heinz’s every need, she pleased him.
    She thought he would be happy when she signed up to take German lessons. She wanted to become a real part of his homeland, and to do that, she would have to learn to speak the language. And their own communication would be so much better if she was able to speak his native language. Perhaps there were shadings of meaning, slang terms, vocabulary that meant something other than Amy thought they did, and that was causing their difficulties.
    But something was wrong. Heinz didn’t want Amy to go to class. He didn’t like the idea of Amelia having friends other than himself. He frowned when she told him of the new friends she was making at school. He became sullen, then jealous, if he saw her talking even casually to other men. She tried to tell him that they were only students at the school who meant nothing to her except as acquaintances.
    She assured Heinz that she had never loved anyone but him and that she never could love any other man.
    He appeared not to hear and turned away from her, pouting like an angry child.
    During the weeks before their first Christmas, Ameliastopped being puzzled at Heinz’s actions. She became afraid. If she hoped to remain in his good graces, she realized that she would have to stay in their home, a virtual recluse. She wouldn’t be able to speak to anyone at all, or have any friends.
    The man she had married was gone. The “new” Heinz was terrifying in his alternating jealous rages and coldness. To her horror, Amy discovered that he kept a collection of knives and swords, as if to ward off everyone in the world outside their home. And now he threatened her, accusing her of liaisons and treachery—ugly things she had never done, or even dreamed of doing.
    But Amy was a proud woman and, despite everything, one who still tried to be optimistic about the future. She didn’t write home about her situation; she had loved this man for years, had chosen to turn her back on the United States, to make a marriage and a home for him. She still hoped that somehow she could make it work, and she could not bear to tell anyone of her marital troubles. That would be a betrayal of Heinz and an admission that she had made a dreadful mistake.
    In January 1976—after only three months of marriage—Heinz’s behavior and his erratic mood swings became untenable, and Amy sought medical help for her husband. The doctors who examined him agreed that he was not rational. He was admitted to the Bern Psychiatric Hospital because of his volatile behavior and his threats to Amy. It broke her heart to see him locked in a mental hospital, but, if possible, she still hoped to save her marriage. They were barely out of what should have been the honeymoon stage. She visited him faithfully, did what the psychiatrists suggested, and avoided discussing anything that seemed to upset him.
    Treatment didn’t help him at all. He resisted all efforts to medicate him and would not talk to the therapists who tried to reach him. Heinz Jager’s pathological obsessions about Amy had gone much too far. She wondered how he could have maintained such a normal façade during the summer months they were together and then become Mr. Hyde to the warm Dr. Jekyll she had fallen in love with.
    Amy didn’t know his history yet, possibly because of the language barriers and because Heinz had forbidden her to make friends, but he had always taken this approach to women. Once he had taken lovers, they became trapped like butterflies in a glass jar, beating their wings hopelessly as they tried to escape.
    In April 1976, Amelia Jager accepted that her dreams of happiness were doomed to failure. She still cared for Heinz in a way, but not as she had once loved him. She was too frightened by his strange moods and his collection of sharp weapons. She hurriedly packed a few possessions and then slipped away from their house while he was out.
    Her note of April 9 displays the compassion she still felt for him and also her sadness:
    Dear Heinz,
    I wanted to say “Goodbye” in person, but I thought it would be too emotional a scene.
    I feel so sad and empty that our marriage didn’t work. I always loved you more than anyone. You were my “dream man.”
    It seems that everything in our marriage has gonedownhill instead of improving and it’s