Emilee stopped them. “In a moment, Lisa. There’s someone else who wants to say hello.”
Near the fireplace, a dark shape moved, causing Lisa to jerk around. It moved into the faint light from the streetlamps outside. Her mouth dropped open. “Benji!”
“Hello, Lisa.” He opened his arms. With a cry of pure joy she launched herself at him. He caught her and swept her up, swinging her around and around as she laughed and cried all at once. Finally, he set her down gently, took her face in both hands, leaned in, and gently kissed her on the lips. “I’m back,” he whispered. “Like I promised.”
“But I thought you weren’t coming until tomorrow.”
He laughed softly. “It is tomorrow. But I took the overnight train. Got here about an hour ago.” And that simple declaration broke the dam loose. All the shock and horror and terror and anxiety of the last eighteen hours burst. Lisa threw her arms around his neck and sobbed and sobbed and sobbed as he held her close and stroked her hair.
4:25 a.m.
Benji sat back, staring at the notes before him. They were gathered around the kitchen table, speaking in soft, urgent voices. For the time being, their sorrow had been pushed back by a much more pressing emotion: fear.
“All right,” Benji said, speaking softly. “The question at hand is, was Hans shot accidentally, or was he shot trying to defend Alemann? If the latter, then has the Gestapo made the connection between him and Alemann, or at least, are they on the verge of discovering that? It is a critical question because if they have, then the whole family could be in danger. So while we’ve been talking, I’ve tried to write out the key elements of what we know, and also what we don’t know. Unfortunately, four of those who were there and actually know what happened are not here to fill in the gaps. So bear with me.”
Lisa, who was sitting next to him, touched his hand. “I’m sorry that this is what you’ve come back to. Hardly a celebration of your arrival.”
“It’s all right. I’m glad I’m here.” He picked up the pad. “Number one: Alemann saw a young orthodox Jewish man killed in cold blood by a Gestapo officer. That was an incredibly similar experience to what happened to one of his students about a year ago now. Which experience was so traumatic that it led Alemann and Richelle to decide they could no longer deny their Jewish faith.”
“Yes,” Emilee said. “That was the turning point. So this would hit him especially hard.”
“Number two: And this is mostly supposition. Something snaps in Alemann. He blasts into the line of soldiers, grabbing one of their rifles, and heads off to find the Gestapo major. Number three. Seeing that, Richelle dashes away to try and stop her husband. Seeing that, Erika goes after her.”
“Yes,” Lisa said emphatically. “That’s exactly what happened. I had to grab Leyna’s hand to stop her from going with them.”
“Number four. This shocking turn of events triggers various reactions with the other half of your group. Telling Lisa to get Leyna out of there and that they will meet up later, Hans races off in the other direction. Not toward where he last saw Alemann, but toward where the major and the other soldiers were. That’s a big question. Why didn’t he go after Alemann?”
“Because we had brought up the rear,” Lisa said. “Alemann was clear across the plaza, with a lot of people between us.”
“But for what purpose? To try and stop the soldiers from killing Alemann? I don’t think so. You said there were eight or ten soldiers with the major. Your father was unarmed. That would be suicidal. Which brings us to number five, the most puzzling piece of all. According to the police who came by earlier today, the soldiers didn’t see Hans as any threat at all. He told them that he wanted to help defuse the situation without anyone else getting hurt. Why would he do that?”
Inga raised her hand. “Because he knew that otherwise Alemann was going to be killed. He probably knew that he couldn’t help him escape, but maybe he could at least get him out of it alive.”
Benji scribbled quickly. “Yes, Oma Inga. That would make sense.” He wrote something else. “Maybe a nervous officer thought he was lying. That he was actually there to save Alemann. That would explain why he shot him.”
Emilee bit her lip as her eyes filled with tears again. “Yes.”
“Which brings us to our key question. Have the Gestapo and the police made any connection between Hans and Alemann? If so, then we need to get out of here as quickly as possible, because they’ll be coming to interrogate Emilee and the rest of you.”
“Where would we go?” Emilee cried.
“To Alemann’s hideaway. And then, tomorrow night, we get you into Switzerland as quickly as possible. But hear me out. Number . . . whatever we’re up to. If they had made the connection, it wouldn’t have been the Munich police who came here this afternoon. And they wouldn’t have thanked you for Hans’s bravery.”
Lisa’s head came up and there was sudden hope in her eyes. “Which means they haven’t identified the shooter as Alemann Zeidner.”
“Exactly,” Benji said. “That’s one positive thing. To this point, they have to be assuming that Alemann and his wife and daughter are not from Munich at all, but from Austria. Right? That’s what their papers say.”
Inga was staring at him in wonder. “Yes. Actually, that’s what the policeman said. I had forgotten that. He said that the man who was trying to kill the major was an Austrian national and probably one of the thousands of Austrians who hate the Nazis for invading their country.”
“That’s good. So that will give them a plausible motive for Alemann. And it’s further confirmed by having his wife and daughter also with Austrian papers.”
Lisa’s mind was working furiously now too. “So, the Gestapo have no reason to believe Papa and Alemann are connected in any way.”
Emilee was shaking her head. “And what if they publish a photo of the deceased Austrian man in all the newspapers?”
Lisa and Inga both turned and stared at her. Benji was confused. “That’s possible. So what if they do?”
“And Papa talked Alemann into shaving off his beard,” Lisa whispered.
Inga moaned and covered her eyes. “I never thought of that.”
“What?” Benji cried. “Why does it matter whether he has a beard or not?”
Lisa knew exactly what her mother was suggesting, so she answered him. “Because hundreds of people—university faculty, former students, neighbors, the grocer—will recognize his picture as that of Alemann Zeidner, who many people know was a close friend and confidant of his fellow faculty member, Hans Otto Eckhardt Sr.” She exhaled slowly, and with great pain. “Who, by some incredible coincidence, just happens to be the very man who was at the plaza at the same time and who volunteered to try and save his life.”
The stunned silence lay like a pall over the room. Benji got up and began to pace. Another minute later he stopped dead, then whirled, smacking his forehead with the heel of his hand. “That’s it! I’ve got it.”
Everyone stared at him as if he had gone too long without sleep. He spun around and knelt down before Emilee. “All right. Hear me out. Let’s think this through. I think you’re right. Somebody recognizing him is a very real possibility. Which means you can’t take the risk of waiting to go to America for your ‘Christmas holiday.’ I mean, that is the perfect cover for you, and you’ve been planning it since long before what happened yesterday.” He hurried on. “So what if we create an emergency—say with my family in Utah—and we get you out of here as quickly as possible? Bingo. You’re gone. You’re not coming back. You’re all safe.”
Lisa was staring at him in horror. That rocked him back. “What?”
“All except Leyna. Leyna has no papers tying her to us. No reason to go to America. And if they do discover our connection to the Zeidners, they’ll probably send her to prison with Richelle and Erika.”
Benji groaned. “I wasn’t t
hinking about Leyna. Oh, man. That is a huge problem.”
Emilee didn’t hesitate. “We have to take her with us. No matter what!”
“It won’t work,” Benji shot back. “The only papers she has tie her to the man who tried to kill a Gestapo major. And—” He stopped mid-stride, then spun around and smacked his head again. “Oh my gosh!”
“What?” Lisa cried.
“We’ll get her new papers. An American passport. An exit visa to go to America.”
She gaped at him. “Are you serious? And how do we do that?”
He turned to Emilee. “Can I use your phone to make a long-distance call?”
“Of course. To your family? What can they do?”
“No, to London.”
Under normal circumstances their expressions would have made him chuckle. Now he barely registered them, for his mind was racing. “No, it can’t be from here. We can’t take a chance of the phones being tapped. Uh . . . How far is it to Austria? No, no! Not Austria either. Not now that it’s a German state.”
Emilee jumped up. “Liechtenstein!” she cried.
“Wunderbar! How far is it from here?”
Lisa was staring at him, still not sure if he was serious or not. “Who do you know in London that can help us?”
“You would be surprised. I’ll tell you on the way.” He swung around to Emilee again. “We would need your car.”
“Done!” she said without a moment’s hesitation.
“And who is ‘we’?” Inga asked, looking at Lisa.
Lisa’s hand shot up. “We is me. I just got him back. He’s not going anywhere without me.”
November 11, 1938, 4:40 p.m.—
National Telephone Exchange, Vaduz, Liechtenstein
Benji smiled as he looked down on Lisa’s face, now in repose. One lock of hair had fallen forward and rested on her cheekbone.
Looking forward again, he saw a blue sign coming up on the right. He let off the gas as he approached, then nodded in satisfaction when he read the two words printed on it. Nationale Telefonzentrale. Underneath there was an arrow that pointed to the left. Slowing further, he turned on his direction signal, braked almost to a stop to let an oncoming car pass, then turned left. As he straightened again, he glanced down.
Lisa’s eyes were open and she was watching him. “Hey, sleepyhead.”
She smiled up at him but didn’t stir. Reaching down with his index finger, he pushed the lock of hair back in place. As he started to pull his hand back, she reached up and caught it, then pulled it down again and gently kissed the back of his hand. “I love you,” she murmured.
“And I love you, Schatzi!”
“Um . . . say it again.”
“I love you.”
“No, Schatzi.”
“I love you very much, Schatzi. Future Mrs. Westland.”
“Ah, I like that the best.” She kissed his hand again, moaned, then pulled herself up and looked around, combing her hands through her hair. Then she scooted in closer to him and slipped her arm through his. “Where are we?”
“Vaduz.”
“Oh? We’re here already? How long did I sleep?”
“You were out before we left the outskirts of Munich. A little over two hours. You were exhausted.” He caressed her cheek again. “And no wonder.”
And just like that, Lisa’s eyes filled with tears again. “Oh, Benji. I don’t think I could get through this if you hadn’t come. I miss him so much!” The tears spilled over her eyelids, trickling down her cheeks. “I don’t know how Mama can stand it.”
“They had many happy years together. That helps soften the loss.”
“Or makes it worse.” She turned and looked out her window. “What time is it? Looks like it’s almost sundown.”
He glanced at his watch. “Twenty to five.” He sighed. “I hope we’re not too late. A lot of business offices close at five.”
“True,” she said, “but the United Kingdom is an hour earlier than we are.”
“That will help.” He paused. “Have you ever been to England?”
“Just to Southampton when we took the ship from there to New York with the Zeid. . . .” She buried her head against his shoulder and began to sob. “Oh, Benji. I can still see Richelle and Erika in the back of the truck with all those men.”
There was nothing to say to that, so he put his arm around her and held her close as he drove slowly on.
They had originally planned to leave immediately, but Emilee had insisted that both of them get at least three hours of sleep, since they had been up all night. Then, when they awakened—Lisa an hour after Benji—Emilee and Oma had insisted that they eat before departing, even though they had also packed a picnic basket for them. Then, just as they were ready to leave, Leyna had become hysterical. It had taken almost another hour and many solemn promises that they would be back before bedtime in order to calm her down. So now, here they finally were.
“Ah,” Benji said a minute or so later. “There’s the exchange.” He took his foot off the gas and let the car slow, then turned left into the lot. As he shut off the engine, he looked at Lisa. “Are you ready?”
“Yes.” She wiped at her eyes. “Let’s do it.” She managed a wan smile. As they walked into the building, she grew more serious. “What are you going to do if he won’t let them reverse the charges?”
“Stop being his ‘potential’ friend,” he said gravely.
Lisa took his hand and squeezed it. “Ah, Benji. Thank you for making me smile.”
4:54 p.m.
“Well, well, well. Benji, I must say this is a surprise.”
“I thought it might be. How are you, Mr. McKensie?”
“Well, I’d be a lot better if you would call me Nigel.”
“All right. How are you, Nigel?” Benji looked through the window of the phone booth and waved to Lisa, his signal to let her know the charges had been accepted. She was sitting on one of the benches set up against the far wall. She saw him and waved back.
“I wasn’t sure if you would call me or not. So I thought I’d give you a week or two to get settled in, then ring you up. See how things were going. I thought you didn’t get in until today.”
“I caught an overnight train and got in early this morning.”
“And how are things with your young lady’s family? Good, I trust.”
The question blindsided him, and he didn’t know what to say. “Uh. . . .”
“Benji? Is everything all right?”
“Yes and no. But I’d like to talk about that a little later, if that’s all right.”
“Of course. Whatever you say. I hope that everything is still good between you and Lisa?”
“It is. It’s perfect. Couldn’t be better. She’s here with me now.”
“Ah, good. And where is here? Are you in Munich?”
“No. Vaduz, Liechtenstein.”
“Oh!” He was obviously surprised by that.
“We needed a place where we could be sure our conversation was not being monitored.”
Another long pause. “Okay. With that, you have my full attention.”
“Thank you.” He paused, then plunged, “I was hoping I could have Lisa on the phone with me, actually. This situation, if I can call it that, directly involves her and her family. So she knows everything that I’m going to tell you.”
“I see,” Nigel said slowly. “And what have you told her about me?”
“Absolutely nothing. She only knows I am calling London. And with everything that’s been happening since I arrived, I didn’t even tell her about me going to the embassy.”
Another pause. “All right. I trust your judgment on this. But, Benji, give me ten minutes and then I’ll call you back. I’d like to see if Cassie is available to join us, if that’s all right.”
“Sure.
I’m at the Vaduz telephone exchange. They’re not showing the number on the phone.”
“We have that number. Be back in ten.” And the line went dead.
5:18 p.m.
“Well, Alisa,” Cassie said, “this is a special delight to get to meet you, even if it is through long distance. We could tell here that Benji was pretty smitten. We thought he was going to punch someone if we didn’t get him on his way that day.”
Nigel laughed. “And when we asked him to stay an extra hour, you would have thought we had sold his mother into slavery.”
“Well, just so you know where I stand, this phone booth is not very large, so I am sitting on Benji’s lap with my arms around his neck so I can listen too.” As they laughed, she went on. “I am very pleased to be allowed to sit in on this conversation. Thank you both.”
“You are welcome,” Nigel said. “All right, Benji. We’re listening. You sounded like this is pretty urgent.”
“It is, but first, Nigel, I’d like to start by confirming something about my visit to the embassy, okay?”
“All right. Go ahead.”
“Thank you. All the way down here, I thought a lot about what happened, and I’ve come to some assumptions. I’d like to see if my assumptions are correct.”
There was a soft chuckle. “Assumptions, eh? All right. Fire away.”
Benji reached down and got his notepad, opened it, and set it on the small shelf below the phone. “Okay. Assumption number one. My visit to the American embassy to get my tourist visa for Germany was not what you’d call a typical visit. I’ve been in embassies and consulates before, and you expect things to progress at a snail’s pace. Which they did at first, but—here’s a question for you. Was Mr. Schultzke a setup?”
“A setup? How so?”
“Was that just a way for you to see who spoke German?”
“No. I assure you, Mr. Schultzke was the genuine thing. But we have kind of a standing order that if the staff finds someone who speaks good German, they let us know.”
Fire and Steel, Volume 6 Page 52
