by Warren Court
“I’m an American citizen, a journalist. I just stopped to help someone who was injured, that’s all. I don’t think that gives the Gestapo the right to detain me.”
Schmidt pointed to the SD tag on his sleeve. “We are not Gestapo; our mandate is to surveil all German citizens and aliens within the Reich’s borders. The report here says you were causing unrest and acting illegally in the area of the entertainment district. That you led a charge of rabble-rousers against the authorities and threatened disorder within the Reich.”
“Nonsense. I was having coffee with a friend. There was a riot, and we got swept up in it.”
“This friend’s name?”
“Richard Fuchs, a journalist with one of your papers. I met him at the air show just about the same time I first met you.” Aubrey felt safe mentioning his name; they had done nothing wrong and Fuchs was a legitimate journalist. But then she remembered what Richard had said, that they had an arrest warrant out for him.
Aubrey carefully emphasized the word ‘first’ when she replied to Captain Schmidt. They’d had a second meeting, oh yes. She was convinced now that the man was indeed a spy for Hewitt Purnsley, that he wasn’t merely trying to expose Aubrey as an enemy agent. If that had been his intention, he would have had her arrested a lot sooner.
Perhaps, when he saw her name on the arrest sheet from the riot, he had seen a chance to help her. This tough-guy act was just that: an act. Maybe they were just going to have a chat and then she’d be released. Brother, she thought, if and when that happened, she knew where she was headed: to the train station straight away.
“What did you discuss, you and this journalist?”
“We were just gabbing. You know.”
“I don’t know that expression.”
“Shooting the shit, small talk.”
“Is he your lover?”
“Gosh, no. What a question.”
“When did you and this Fuchs decide to join in the unrest?”
“Look, we didn’t join in. We left the café, went for a stroll. These men came around the corner with bats and charged us. We tried to get away from them. People were being beaten. This one man was on the ground bleeding, and I stopped to help him. He’s a human being.”
The captain smirked. “He was a Jew. He was an enemy of the state.”
“Was?”
“He’s dead, and good riddance. Another animal we don’t have to pay to house for its own protection. We have reports here that you were involved in some radical rhetoric directed at our Führer at a café shortly before the riots began. Several people heard you and Richard Fuchs making demeaning remarks against him. That is a serious crime.”
“I did no such thing.”
“We have several witnesses; they have given statements.”
“I want to speak to somebody from my embassy. I am an American, a neutral.”
“A neutral? We’re not at war with anybody, Miss Endeavours, and you are not under diplomatic protection that I am aware of.”
Enough of this act, Schmidt. Aubrey fidgeted nervously. “Still, I want representation.”
“Leave us,” the captain barked at the two men behind her.
“Listen,” she said quietly after the others had left. “That other night, at the count’s mansion. I don’t know how we can proceed.”
“I don’t know what you are talking about.”
“Oh, really? When we were in the study. You approached me.” She watched his face for any sign of a reaction. There was none. “Listen, just forget it. They can get the information out some other way. Just let me go, and we’ll call it a day.”
“Again, you are speaking in some strange language.”
“I know who you are, who you’re working for. I won’t say anything, I promise. That is why you separated me from the others, isn’t it? To help me. I appreciate it, really, I do, but all this talk of crimes and witnesses… You had me worried there for a second.”
A fiery spark lit up the captain’s eyes. He crushed his cigarette out under the heel of his black gleaming boot, then suddenly he kicked out at Aubrey, sending her flying off her chair. She went sprawling across the stone floor. He was on her fast, hauled her back up on her feet.
“Please,” she said.
He punched her in the stomach, driving the wind out of her and sending her back to her knees. He rained blows down on her back, then picked her up again, his hands around her throat.
“No, you won’t say anything at all,” he hissed between clenched teeth. His face was scarlet with rage. His hands tightened, and Aubrey felt the air choke off as her lungs sucked desperately for air. She beat her fists against his arms, to no avail. Darkness shrouded her vision, and all she could think of was her father. She was going to die in this stinking room at the hands of this monster.
She didn’t hear the sound of the door opening or the shouts of alarm, or see the arms of the man who grabbed the captain and pull him away. When his hands were free of her throat, she collapsed to the floor and tried to drag in air. Things went black and she passed out.
20
Aubrey awoke to the throbbing sound of the count’s Mercedes. Moving, whirling lights sped past her eyes, which were just slits. She felt hot and cramped. When she tried to shift herself, waves of pain cascaded through her body, making the previous discomfort seem trivial.
She forced her eyes open and saw the thick red-carpet divider. Then she saw his feet out of the corner of her vision.
“You’re awake.”
“Yes,” she managed to squeak out with tremendous difficulty.
“Do you want to sit up?”
“I do.”
She felt his arms around her, and powerfully but slowly he helped ease her into an upright position. Her head spun and she had to close her eyes. Every part of her body ached, but her throat most of all. She put a hand to it; it was tender,
“That bastard did quite a number on you. I’m glad I got there when I did.”
“You made him stop?”
“Yes, I made him. I would have killed him had his men not been there. You were nearly gone. I thought I’d lost you. I carried you unconscious out of that hell hole.”
“Thanks.”
“Do you want something to drink? Water perhaps?”
“Whiskey,” she said, “and Aspirin if you have it.”
“If you insist.” He leaned forward and retrieved a crystal lowball glass and fixed her a whiskey. He even had ice. From a metal container in the bar, he extracted two pills. “You’re in luck. I keep these here for when I’ve gone too hard the night before.”
She swallowed the bitter pills and washed them down with the strong whiskey. It made her choke, and her throat hurt.
“How do I look?”
“Not your best, but you’re alive.”
“How did you know I was there?”
“I was informed. I think that maniac was stunned when I came bursting in. I knew I had to get you out of there quickly before he regained himself and stopped me.”
“He was trying to kill me.”
“It looked that way, yes. What did you say that provoked him?”
“Nothing. I don’t remember.”
But that was a lie: she did remember. She remembered the look on Agent Starlight’s face when she’d brought up the notion of him being a spy for England. He’d probably taken personal charge of her incarceration so he could silence her. And there she was, with her chivalrous notions that he had just been trying to protect her. That animal. The only truly chivalrous man in Berlin, perhaps all of Germany, was sitting beside her now.
“Where are we going?”
“I’m getting you out of Berlin, taking you to my home in Bavaria.”
“Why not France?”
“That would be inadvisable at present. Your name is still on a list of suspects. They may be waiting for you at the border with more men and more authority than I can overcome. No, we’ll retreat south and I’ll try and find a way out of this.”
“What do you think?” the count said.
“My word, it’s wonderful. How high up are we?”
“Eight thousand feet. My ancestors built a castle up here, nobody knows why. There were hardly any enemies that would climb this high to attack it.”
The castle ruins loomed before them, massive mounds of toppled stone. There was only one complete wall with a solitary turret left standing.
“I told you the place needed some fixing up,” Helmut joked.
The road took them through what would have been the main gate of the castle. There were huge stones on the ground on either side and the remnants of a staircase that followed the one remaining wall to the parapet.
“We can explore this later if you like, when you’ve eaten and rested.”
“I slept almost the entire drive.” She reached across the mohair seat and grasped his leather-gloved hand. He squeezed it back, hard. “Thank you for this.”
“We haven’t even gotten there yet.”
“I know, but thank you.”
They held hands as the car continued on past the castle ruins and climbed higher still. There was a building, certainly more modern than the castle ruins, but built on an ancient design. It was a lodge with peaked roofs, stucco sides and exposed timber beams.
The Mercedes came to a halt in front of the lodge and a man of sixty, maybe older, came out to greet them. He was wearing a green huntsman jacket and kniebundlederhosen and a worn alpine hat. He pulled a pipe from his mouth and squinted at the automobile. A haggard-looking hound reluctantly came after him and flopped to the ground at his feet.
Aubrey exited the car; she was stiff and sore from the long ride and the ordeal the day before. A hot bath was in order. The count introduced their greeter.
“This is my uncle Reinhardt. Reinhardt, this is a friend of mine, Aubrey Endeavours. He speaks English reluctantly. Don’t you, Reinhardt?”
“Only in the presence of beautiful women.” The man tried to bow deeply, and Aubrey heard his knees crack. His stick-thin legs looked strong, however, and his hands and face were brown from the alpine sun. He was a very handsome man, and she saw a resemblance with the count: the twinkle in his eye, the square jaw, and the full, thick head of hair, though Reinhardt’s had turned silver.
He swept up both of her hands in his exceptionally long but weathered fingers and squeezed them affectionately. Then he lifted one to his dry lips and kissed it. That and a wink from him, and she was smitten with this kindly old man.
“You’ll keep your eyes off her, Reinhardt.”
Reinhardt smiled. “I always knew you’d do the family proud. Welcome, Fraulein Endeavours. I will not promise to cease my attempts to steal you from this scoundrel.” He grabbed her arm and, as if he instinctively knew she’d been through the wringer, he guided her gently up the steps of the Bavarian mansion.
Aubrey liked the kindly Reinhardt immediately and snuggled close to him as he led her through wide wooden doors adorned with metal, medieval studs and into a huge entrance hall.
He led her to a set of double doors at one end of the foyer, which opened into an expansive room with a stone hearth in the centre of it. A blazing fire was crackling away, and Aubrey could feel the oxygen swirling into the room from the open doors to feed the inferno. The hardwood floors were polished to a high gleam and the reflection of the flames danced across them. Above the fire was a polished copper flue that captured the smoke. On the wall were a dozen or more hunting trophies. Aubrey counted lions, African buffalo, American bison and a tiger. A part of her felt sympathy for the animals, but upon closer inspection she discovered they were old, very old. Perhaps the hunting tradition of the count’s family had stopped long ago.
“It’s wonderful, so… Teutonic.”
“It’s old and drafty,” the count said. “I’ve a good mind to tear the entire thing down. I’m never here anyway.”
“Don’t you dare. The view alone is priceless. You can leave it for your children.”
The count lowered his head and looked away, then back at her, and she saw the glint of tears in his eyes. He wiped them away and beckoned her farther into the lodge.
Aubrey chided herself for the careless remark. She hurried after him and was shown to the main bedroom. There was an expansive window that looked out on the mountain range. The side panes were open and cold mountain air filled the room. There was a vent on one wall. She ran her hand over it and felt the soothing heat of the fire. Suddenly, she realized she was exhausted. She sat down on the bed and winced. The scale and breathtaking beauty of the place had only temporarily taken away the pain Aubrey still felt from the attack.
The count came to her. “You’re in pain—you should rest.”
“Good idea. I did not sleep well in the car.”
“I’ll make sure you’re left alone. I’ll wake you later this afternoon for tea. We’ll go for a walk, stretch our legs. This place has a way of making you forget the rest of the world exists.”
“That’s why you can’t tear it down.”
She flopped back on the bed and pulled him on top of her. He offered only token resistance.
“Aubrey, you have been through a lot. I want you to rest.”
“Just one kiss.”
He kissed her passionately and then pulled away and got to his feet. He pulled the warm, coarse blanket over her and went to close the windows, but she told him not to. Within minutes of his leaving, she drifted off.
She woke hours later to find the room in a pale blue darkness from the afternoon sun, which was sinking below the peaks of two distant mountains. The rays danced off the sheets of glacier ice flanking their sides. At first, she did not know where she was. When it finally came to her, she smiled. That smile faded as quickly as it had come when she remembered the events in Berlin. She shook her head and banished such thoughts.
The pain came back when she rose from the bed, but it was a dull ache now. She’d suffered far worse in the plane crash and had lived. She would live through this.
She found Uncle Reinhardt in the grand hall, stoking the fire. A scullery maid in a traditional uniform was carrying loaves of bread and curtsied to Aubrey despite her load.
“Fraulein. Did you sleep well?” Reinhardt asked.
“I did. Wonderful bed. How large is this place?”
“Fourteen rooms. Helmut’s father had it built in 1909 after he gave up forever restoring the castle. Too much money, stone and mortar. Better to build with bricks and beams, ja?”
“There’s this and the castle and…”
“And one hundred acres, most of it at a very steep angle.”
Aubrey laughed and her torso hurt.
“You’re in pain, Fraulein. What did you do?” he asked, concerned.
“Had a little accident. Where is the count?”
“Forget about those formalities and protocol here, Fraulein. It will go to his head. Helmut is out sorting the firewood. This fire is the only heat for the entire lodge. If we let it go out, we’ll freeze. It gives a wonderful perspective on life, the balance we must all maintain. The heat is sent up through the main duct and reflected to the rooms. A chimney takes the smoke to the outside.”
“I know—I felt the heat it puts out. Wonderful engineering.”
Hands behind her back, she wandered over to the animal trophies. Their glass eyes stared down at her. “The count—Helmut—likes to hunt?”
“Those are not his. Those animals were walking the earth before you or he were born, I suspect. The hunting tradition has gone from our family, along with everything else. We used to own large tracts of land in
Africa. Helmut was once, for a brief moment, one of the wealthiest dukes in the German empire. But at the end of the war, the Kaiser abdicated and our family was forced to renounce our titles and give up most of our lands. Germany’s empire has shrunk, considerably.”
“But Helmut’s business—I got the impression it is very successful.”
“Oh, he’s made a success of it. His father invested in a small firm at the turn of the century. It has morphed into a conglomerate. Most of the manufacturing is done in the Sudetenland.”
