“Just because you don’t partake of drugs doesn’t mean you don’t indulge. Your entire life is indulgence.”
“So says the man who’s eating his second Linzer torte. You don’t like me very much, do you, Detective Carson?”
“I haven’t given you enough thought to say one way or another,” said Carson, as he drank half the beer in one gulp.
“I don’t believe you,” said Lawrence quietly. “I think you’ve spent a fair amount of time thinking about me.”
Carson stopped and looked at him, bottle in hand. He was suddenly angry, upset enough that there was a chance he might use the bottle as a weapon.
Yet Lawrence continued. “I told you the night we met that I’d seen you around. But it wasn’t in your official duties as a police officer. I believe I saw you about eighteen months ago in a bar near the sleepy town of Las Vegas.” From the way Carson’s eyes widened, Lawrence knew he was right. “It was far enough away from Los Angeles that you wouldn’t risk anyone recognizing you. But I remember watching you that night because you were so frightened.”
“I’m not afraid of anything.”
“That’s a lie. You’re frightened of who you are. And it’s perfectly understandable given the lies most of us have to tell, though I have it easier than most. I don’t think anyone would be shocked to learn my true nature, except, possibly, my Aunt Gladys who still keeps asking when I’m going to meet a nice girl. When she does that, my mother usually asks Gladys for her opinion of Roosevelt, which diverts the dear lady’s attention. But you would risk a great deal if anyone found out who you are.”
“Are you threatening me?”
Lawrence shook his head. “Not in the least. I can give you the names of a few discreet clubs closer than Vegas, but far enough from Los Angeles that you’re not likely to see many of your colleagues.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about because I was never in a bar like that.”
“And that’s another lie. All of it’s difficult, even for me. But I guarantee you that once you start being honest with yourself it gets a little bit easier.”
“I don’t want that life.”
It was the first tacit admission from Detective Carson that he was anything other than what he pretended to be. Lawrence’s heart broke for the man, knowing the turmoil he must be in. “There are some things we cannot simply wish away, our true nature being one of them.”
Carson looked at him fully on for the first time. “Have you told anyone else your suspicions?”
“No, not even Dora. And we tell each other everything. This is your life, yours to figure out. I just wanted to offer friendship as someone who’s gone through the same thing.” Lawrence sat there for a moment, wondering if Carson would say anything. When he didn’t, Lawrence rose to leave. “I’ll make sure you get breakfast in the morning, but in the meantime, take this.” He held out a knife.
Carson was surprised. “Why are you giving me that?”
“I know they took your gun, and I also know you’re being framed for Zimmer’s murder. It’s not a flight of fancy to imagine someone might try to kill you. If it’s one of the goons with machine guns, the knife won’t be much help. But just in case it’s someone else, I thought you could use this to at least try to even the odds.”
“Why do you think I’m innocent of Zimmer’s murder? I was covered in the man’s blood.”
“I earn my living studying human nature. And the man I saw in that bar eighteen month ago, the man who served in the Great War and who risks his life as a Los Angeles police detective, wouldn’t throw his life away like that. You’ve got too much to live for, even if you don’t realize it yet. So, keep the knife, and mull over the offer of friendship. If you have to reject one of those two things out-of-hand, make it be the friendship and keep the knife, though you should consider the benefits of both. Good night, Detective Carson. I hope to see you alive at breakfast.”
* * *
Greta pulled her raincoat closer about her as she carefully made her way down the slick path in pelting rain. The grounds were dark, and the storm meant that the moon provided little illumination. It was a good thing she knew the grounds so well, because her life depended on it. She was chilled to the bone and was glad when she finally saw the reflection of a small mirror up ahead. A moment later, she found herself face-to-face with Renate.
“I can’t believe you brought me all the way out here on a night like this,” said Renate, as she stood there shivering. From the way her raincoat hung, it was obvious she was armed.
“Did you do what I told you to do?”
“Yes. I left my car at the restaurant a mile up the road, then hiked in. I don’t know why you couldn’t have had someone else do this. Stern won’t be happy when I tell him.”
Reporting to Stern was a threat Renate often employed. There were two types of people at the League. The first was warily suspicious of Greta, given her family connections. The second wanted her dead. Renate had made it clear on several occasions that she was in the second group but was prevented from acting only because of the political repercussions. But ever since someone had run Greta off the road, she suspected Stern and his allies had overcome their reluctance to killing her.
“Are you getting the guards reassigned?” asked Greta.
Renate nodded. “They’re getting a transmission as we speak that they’re wanted in San Francisco to protect our brethren up there. They should be gone by daybreak.”
“All of them?”
“Including the women. Those were the orders, and you know how those boys like to obey orders. Now what did you want to talk to me about? I’m freezing.”
The tone of Renate’s complaint made it clear that the woman had gone wholly over to Stern’s side. There was no longer any deference there, and the next few moments would be crucial. “I need you to do a great service for the Fatherland.”
“I don’t take orders from you.”
Greta raised a brow. “Yet you’ll do this one last thing.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
It was later than Josie thought when she got up the next morning. The room was still dark, though it was already nine. She could hear the rain even before she opened the drapes to see the storm. “Why is the house so quiet?”
David put his arms around her from behind. “Maybe it just seems that way because it’s so loud outside.”
“I don’t know. Generally, I wake up to the sounds of Hitler Youth marching up and down our hallway.”
“I think they’re servants.”
“In this house, it’s the same thing.”
Half an hour later, Josie and David made their way through the deserted halls to find themselves in the dining room. The table had been set, but there was no one there, until Lawrence, Dora, Blake and Grant showed up moments after they did.
“Where’s the hearty German breakfast?” asked Dora, looking at the empty sideboard.
“Where are the hearty Germans?” asked Lawrence.
Greta entered the room carrying rain gear, looking as spry as she usually did in the morning, with one difference.
“What happened to your cheek?” asked Josie.
“Oh, this?” asked Greta, as she brushed a scratch near her eye. “I’m afraid a mouse frightened me last night and I bumped into the bedpost.”
“That surprises me,” said Dora.
“That I was frightened of a mouse?”
“That it wasn’t frightened of you.”
“You’re so very clever, aren’t you, Dora?” said Greta with little sincerity. “Where is everyone?”
“Gone,” said Frau Zimmer, who’d entered the room with a pot of porridge. She’d apparently recovered enough from the death of her husband to make breakfast.
“Gone where?” asked Greta.
“An order came during the night, moving everyone further north.”
“What kind of order?” asked Blake.
Frau Zimmer looked at him, frowning. “From our friends at the Leag
ue. Apparently, there’s going to be some trouble in San Francisco with the communists. Our men have been ordered to lend assistance.”
“You mean to attack the communists,” said Blake.
Frau Zimmer shrugged. “They’ll get what’s coming to them.”
“I should call my office,” said Grant.
“You can’t,” said Frau Zimmer, “the phone is dead.”
“Then how did the League call your boys?”
“They didn’t. They sent a messenger.”
“Does that mean the roads are clear?”
Frau Zimmer looked at Grant coolly. “I didn’t ask.”
“How did the men leave if the roads are washed out?” asked David
“They hiked. Germans have sturdy constitutions.” The clear implication was that Americans did not. “I have porridge.” She pointed to a grey lump in a pot. Clearly, all the cooks had been ordered to leave, as well.
“More importantly, is there coffee?” asked Lawrence.
Frau Zimmer left the room and it was unclear whether she’d be coming back with coffee or if she was simply leaving.
“If the guards could leave, does that mean the police will arrive today?” asked Josie.
Greta shrugged. “I don’t know. It has been my experience that people in Los Angeles do not do well in bad weather, whereas we Germans are used to such things. As a matter of fact, I’m going hiking shortly, if anyone would like to join me.”
“You’re going hiking in this weather?” asked Dora.
“As I cannot control the weather, but my body yearns for exercise, then I suppose I am.”
“My body sometimes feels the need for exercise,” said Lawrence. “But I usually wait for the feeling to pass. It always does.”
“Grant, when do you think the police will make it out here?” asked David.
“I’d say tomorrow at the earliest.”
“We have to spend another day here?” asked Dora.
“I’m afraid so.”
“Afraid of what?” asked Ralph Harris, as he entered the room with Finn O’Donnell close behind. O’Donnell was wearing sunglasses and looking decidedly unwell.
“The police won’t be here until tomorrow,” said Blake. “Apparently, the only person willing to brave the elements is our fraulein, here.”
“I need to get back to town,” said O’Donnell, who was sweating profusely, despite the chill in the air.
“Unfortunately, it looks like we’re stuck here for at least another day,” said Lawrence.
“Then I need to…” O’Donnell looked around for a moment, then didn’t say anything else.
“You need to get more cocaine?” asked David.
The look O’Donnell turned on him was one of pure hatred. “Think this is funny, do you?”
“No, I think it’s tragic. But perhaps it’s good for you to get a taste of the misery you’ll be doling out in the drug trade.”
“What’s this?” asked Harris.
“O’Donnell has been trying to blackmail me into going into the drug business with him,” said David. “And it’s not going to work.”
O’Donnell grabbed a plate and threw it at David, almost hitting him. For someone supposedly in the throes of withdrawal, he had surprisingly good aim. “You’ll regret crossing us. You have no idea what we can do to you. To both of you.” He looked at Josie and smiled. “Especially to her.”
David’s look of pure rage was a shock even to Josie. He was on his way to punching O’Donnell, when Blake beat him to it. O’Donnell hit the floor hard, knocking him out.
“Get him the hell out of here,” David said to Ralph Harris.
“I can’t do it alone,” said Harris as he looked down at O’Donnell sprawled out on the floor.
“Let me help you,” said Blake, as picked O’Donnell up. “Here, take an arm.” Harris looked like he’d rather do anything else, but reluctantly got on the other side to half-drag the man from the room.
“You can’t let him get to you like that,” said Josie to her husband.
“You don’t understand what these people can do. He was threatening you. I can’t tolerate that.”
Josie glanced at Greta, who was across the room at the sideboard. “We won’t be here long enough for him to hurt us,” she said, quietly.
“Do we know that for sure? We’re no closer to learning why history changed. We don’t even know for certain if we can get back to our own time. And now I have to worry about Finn O’Donnell coming after you.”
“It’s going to be all right,” said Josie.
“I wish I shared your optimism,” said David. “I need to get out of here,” he said, as he left the room.
“And I’m going to check on the phone,” said Grant, “though if it wasn’t already out of order, I’m sure Frau Zimmer broke it just to spite me. Dora, can you come with me? I may need you to distract her as I look around.”
“Of course,” said Dora, who looked at Lawrence, who had a tray filled with food. “Where are you going?”
“I thought I’d take some breakfast to Detective Carson,” said Lawrence, as he left the room.
Dora’s only response was a raised brow and a smile, as she followed Barker out, leaving Josie alone with Greta, who’d been eyeing her all morning.
“Do you have something to say to me?” Josie asked her.
“Who do you think killed Herr Zimmer?”
“I think there’s a very good chance his wife did it. She had motive, and if she was in the war, she likely had the skill to do so.”
“Then I guess you truly do believe a woman can do everything a man can. You are in many ways a woman ahead of your time.”
“What do you mean by that?” There was something in the way Greta had said those words which made Josie think they’d been carefully chosen.
Greta smiled. “You’re so suspicious of me. Can I not just give you a compliment?”
“Nothing so far suggests that you can.”
“You have a marvelous sense of humor. Tell me something else. This evidence that your Agent Barker found. Do you not think it’s suspicious that the two people implicated have so vehemently denied the accusations?”
“If I’d been accused of training with the S.S. or having a German passport, I don’t think I’d admit to it, either.”
“But so-called evidence can be faked.”
“Grant wouldn’t do that.”
Greta cocked her head to the side as she thought about it. “No, I do not think your Agent Barker has the imagination for such a thing. But that doesn’t mean someone else didn’t plant the information, perhaps the person who killed your agent. Who do you think that was?”
“You.”
Greta laughed. “You’re no shrinking violet, though I have to wonder about your common sense that you’d be so honest with me when you think I’m a murderer. We’re all alone and, if I really did train with the S.S., I could kill you before you drew your next breath.”
Josie realized that was true. And the practical side of her knew she should leave the room before Greta had a chance to put her skills to use. But David was right. They were no closer to learning why history had changed, and it was time to start taking some risks. “Why are you trying to keep the U.S. out of the upcoming war?”
“Why does anyone try to avoid a war?”
“In this case it would be so Hitler wouldn’t have to worry about the Americans. And don’t give me any crap about not being connected to the Reich.”
Greta cocked her head to the side again as she advanced on Josie, but Josie stayed rooted to the spot, despite the fact that every instinct was telling her to run. Greta didn’t stop until she was inches away. “What if I told you that it was possible to change the future? I mean really change it?”
“What are you getting at?”
“I think you know.”
Josie was afraid she did but didn’t say anything.
“What’s wrong, Josie? Cat got your tongue? I must depart for my hike now, so I
’ll leave you with these words of wisdom. Everything you think you know is wrong. Your Tycoon Murderer isn’t the man you believe him to be.”
“What did you say?”
“Your husband isn’t the man you believe him to be.”
“No, what did you call him?”
Greta slowly smiled. It was cold and purely calculating. “I called him the Tycoon Murderer.”
“There’s no way you can know about that. It didn’t happen in this…” Josie stopped herself just in time.
“In this timeline? Is that what you were about to say?”
Josie felt like all the oxygen had been sucked from her body. “You’re a time traveler.”
“You do love to accuse me of things, don’t you? First it was being an S.S.-trained Nazi spy and now it’s something out of science fiction. I would love to continue talking to you about this, but I really must be off for my hike before the weather gets any worse.” She put on the rain gear which she’d left on the back of her chair. “I suggest we have a long chat, just the two of us alone, when I return.” Greta could tell how discomposed Josie was and it only made her smile. She was almost out the door when she turned back. “Remember, things aren’t always as they appear.”
* * *
Josie went back to her room in search of David, only to find her other friends were there, too.
“Carson’s gone,” Lawrence told her.
“What do you mean?”
“I went to his room with breakfast and no one was there. The window was open, so he might’ve escaped, or…” Lawrence looked very troubled.
“Or he might’ve been taken away by the Germans and killed,” said Dora quietly as she took her friend’s hand.
“There’s no use in thinking the worst,” said Grant. “He’s a resourceful guy. There’s every chance he escaped and is trying to reach help.”
“In this storm?” asked Lawrence.
“We got O’Donnell back to his room,” said Blake. “I don’t know what he thinks he has on you, David, but I’d be wary of that guy. There’s something about him which gives me the creeps, especially if he’s in league with the Germans.”
The Tinseltown Murderer Page 20
