Where Shadows Linger (Intertwined Souls Series Book 2)

by Mary D. Brooks

  Zoe smiled. “How?”

  “Look, Miss Lambros—”

  “How do you know my name?” Zoe was taken aback at the recognition. She scowled at the two men. She knew salesmen’s tricks, but this one was a little too much.

  “Maybe we should introduce ourselves,” the blond man murmured.

  Zoe was on the verge of shutting the door in their faces when the brown-haired man said hastily, “My name is Friedrich Jacobs, and this is my partner, David Harrison. We’re from the War Crimes Unit.”

  Zoe’s scowl turned into a delighted smile. “Oh, wow, that was quick,” she told them. Over her shoulder, she called, “Evy, the Immigration people are here.”

  “On a Sunday?” Eva asked as she came up behind Zoe. “I thought I was supposed to come to you.”

  The men exchanged glances. “Well, we thought it would be best if we came today,” Friedrich said.

  “All right then.” Eva shrugged. “I’m Eva Muller.”

  “Yes, we know,” David replied. He smiled charmingly as they were led inside.

  “I think I’d better get out of your hair,” Elena whispered to Zoe. “The short one is cute,” she added, low enough for only Zoe to hear. Zoe nudged her with an elbow before giving her a hug and walking her to the door. She came back just as the two men sat down in the lounge.

  “This is my sister, Zoe,” Eva said.

  “Pleased to meet you and your sister.”

  Alarm bells began jangling in Zoe’s mind. These men made her feel uneasy, and it wasn’t just the fact they knew their names or were a little overly familiar.

  “I didn’t think Immigration made house calls,” Eva said when she sat down. “So what paperwork do you need to see?”

  “Paperwork?” Friedrich asked.

  “Aren’t you here for the interview to change my surname?” Eva asked, clearly puzzled.

  “No,” Friedrich replied. He unlocked his briefcase, which was balanced on his knees. “We’re here to talk to you about your father.”

  Eva glanced at Zoe, who smiled encouragingly at her. “We already know,” Eva said.

  “You do?” David asked, sounding puzzled himself. He glanced at Friedrich before turning back to Eva. “You know about your father?”

  “Yes.”

  “I see. How do you know?”

  “He’s sleeping in the bedroo—” Eva did not have a chance to finish the sentence before both men jumped up and drew pistols from shoulder holsters concealed beneath their jackets. Eva took a step back when she saw the guns, her hands flying to her mouth. Before anyone in the room had a chance to react, David headed in the direction of the only room with a closed door, Friedrich at his heels.

  Moments later Earl walked into the apartment. He stood transfixed at the men that had rushed past him.

  Zoe was concerned for Father Haralambos’ safety. Were these men Nazi sympathizers who wanted to take revenge for the old man’s Resistance work? Her heart pounded at the thought that they might harm Eva too. Zoe was determined that would never happen, not as long as she drew breath.

  “What are you doing?” Eva yelled.

  “We have a warrant for your father’s arrest,” David said. “Didn’t think it would be this easy,” he added beneath his breath.

  “You’re here to arrest a priest?” Earl asked in disbelief.

  “He’s not a priest. He’s a war criminal,” Friedrich replied. He nodded, holding his pistol in a two-handed grip. David drew back his leg and kicked in the door, putting his weight behind it. Unfortunately, the door was unlocked and the latch not engaged. Like a scene from a Laurel and Hardy film, the door banged open and David stumbled into the room, unable to regain his balance as momentum carried him forward. He fell across the bed, waking Father Haralambos. Zoe was hard-pressed not to laugh at David’s predicament, and the disgusted expression on his face as he lay sprawled over and on top of Father Haralambos, although he had retained his grip on his gun.

  “What is going on?” Father Haralambos asked, his voice thunderous and his scowl impressive despite the fact that his hair was sleep-mussed and he was wearing a nightshirt.

  “You’re not Muller,” David said. From his tone, Zoe surmised that he was displeased. Then he began to snigger.

  Friedrich sighed and shook his head. “I think we have made a mistake,” he said and put his gun away, clearly feeling very foolish. Eva was staring open-mouthed at them. Zoe started laughing hysterically. The men had jumped to the wrong conclusion and they looked stupid, their dignity hopelessly shattered. Father Haralambos had sat up in bed and was staring at Friedrich and David, slowly shaking his head in disapproval.

  “This is my father, Panayiotis Haralambos,” Eva said. “I’m not quite sure who these men are, Father, but they say they are from the War Crimes Unit.”

  “They are.” Henry came into the apartment and assessed the situation before leaning forward into the bedroom. “They’re also incompetent fools,” he muttered in German and walked away shaking his head.

  David slid off the bed. His face was red, and he was laughing loud enough to drown out Zoe’s own hilarity.

  “Well then. How about you leave me to sleep and you all can talk in the lounge without causing too much more fuss?”

  Zoe’s eyebrows rose in astonishment as David passed her, still chuckling. It had been such a comedy of errors that Zoe wondered if these men were truly agents of the War Crimes Unit or if they were Keystone Cops in disguise. She closed the door to the bedroom and followed the rest into the lounge, shaking her head.

  ***

  Eva picked up a chair from the dining room table that had fallen over in the melee, and brought it into the lounge. She sat down on it, crossed her legs, and waited for David and Friedrich to start explaining why they had turned into raving lunatics only moments earlier.

  Zoe sat on the end of the sofa next to Eva. Henry and Earl sat on chairs nearby smoking the cigars they came in with.

  Friedrich and David seemed more than a little mortified by their behavior. Friedrich tried to hide his embarrassment by going through some files in his briefcase. David chose to gaze at Eva with an embarrassed smile, just a faint curvature of his mouth that was met by her steely glare.

  “So, do you want to start this again?” Eva asked tersely. She glanced at Henry and wished for a cigarette herself. The two Immigration officers were making her nervous.

  Friedrich cleared his throat. Eva stared at him until he stopped rifling his files and looked at her. “I am Friedrich Jacobs and this is my colleague, David Harrison,” he said.

  “At least they still know their names,” Zoe quipped.

  Friedrich ignored the comment. He took a file out of his briefcase and set it face down on the coffee table near him. He sighed before looking directly at Eva once more. “We are War Crimes Investigators with the Immigration—”

  “We know,” Henry remarked. “I see you’re the elusive Mr. Jacobs.”

  “Good evening, Mr. Franz. David told me about your visit yesterday.”

  “Yes. It’s too bad he didn’t also tell you that we agreed to leave the interview until Monday, but that must have slipped his mind.”

  Zoe glared at David, who seemed about to respond. “I think it would be a good idea if you shut up. Let the other guy talk.”

  “I’m sorry, Miss Lambros, we were under the impression that Mr. Muller was here.”

  “Are you two alright in the head?” Zoe exclaimed. “We have a War Crimes investigator staying here. You really think a war criminal was going to be staying here as well? Have the two of you even thought about that?”

  “Look, Miss Lambros—

  “No, I suggest you be quiet and let your friend talk. I don’t particularly like you,” Zoe responded and waved a finger at David.

  “Why are you here, other than to break doors down?” Eva asked.

  “I’m getting to it,” Friedrich replied. He picked at the edge of the briefcase with his thumbnail, clearly nervous.

&nb
sp; “Get to it before my next birthday,” Zoe said irritably.

  “We need to confirm a few things first...”

  Earl guffawed, which made Eva stifle a smile as she continued to stare at the two men.

  “You are Eva Theresa Muller?” Friedrich asked.

  “Yes,” Eva replied.

  “According to official records, you were born on the twentieth of January, 1920, in Vienna, Austria, to Daphne Muller and Hans Muller?”

  Eva glanced at Zoe and sighed, tired of the bureaucratic errors that continued to plague her. She said to Friedrich, “My mother was not married when I was born.”

  “Do you know a Hans Albert Muller?” Friedrich asked.

  “I knew a Hans Albert Muller,” Eva replied quietly. “He is my stepfather.”

  “Not your father?”

  “No.” Eva shook her head. “You interrupted my father’s sleep just moments ago.”

  A broader smile creased David’s face. “We will apologize to—”

  “Father Panayiotis Haralambos, a Greek Orthodox priest,” Zoe said.

  Friedrich asked Zoe, “You are Zoe Lambros?”

  “Yes,” she answered. “Didn’t we just go through this charade earlier?”

  “What is your relationship with Miss Muller?” Friedrich asked, making a point of looking through the file in his hands.

  “Sister,” Zoe replied without hesitation. She stared a challenge at Friedrich. Henry cleared his throat but kept silent.

  Friedrich glanced at Zoe over his thick, black-rimmed glasses and took out a photograph from the file. He held it for a moment before giving it to Zoe. A long moment passed while she stared down at it, then she smiled grimly and passed it to Eva.

  Eva glanced at the photo, the same photo Henry had shown her. She handed it back to Zoe with a slight smile.

  “Whoever took it takes great photos,” Eva said to Zoe in Greek.

  “In Greece, sisters kiss like that all the time,” Zoe said matter-of-factly in English to the investigators.

  Friedrich and David exchanged incredulous glances.

  The balcony doors rattled closed as Earl stepped outside and pulled the doors closed behind him. He had been coughing and spluttering at Zoe’s ludicrous response. Eva could hear his booming laughter as he tried to compose himself without much success. Zoe herself looked as if she could not quite believe what she had said in the face of the evidence before her.

  Eva did not say a word but kept her head down, studying the photograph.

  Friedrich’s response was to take another photograph out of his file and hand it to Zoe. The second picture was of Eva and Zoe fishing at a lake. Eva had her back braced against a tree trunk and Zoe sat between her long legs, leaning back against her chest. Eva was nuzzling Zoe’s neck, while Zoe was trying to hang on to the fishing pole.

  “Oh,” Zoe said quietly. “That was such a nice day.” A soft smile came to her lips.

  “It is a crime to lie to a federal agent,” David said, a grin taking the sting out of his words.

  “Is it a crime to be so incompetent?” Zoe asked. “How could you not know that the man in there is not Muller? He doesn’t look like him, and he doesn’t answer to his name.”

  “We thought—”

  “No.” Zoe held up a hand to forestall David’s excuse. “That was incompetent. You expect us to trust you?”

  “We have been following you for over a month. You tend to find out a lot about someone when you do that.”

  “Lovely, but that still doesn’t tell me that you know how to do your job,” Zoe replied. “The photographs didn’t give you enough of a clue?”

  “So you know we are lovers,” Eva finally said, glancing up from the photographs. “Is that why you are here?” She handed the photos back to Friedrich.

  “No, Miss Muller, we don’t think homosexuals are war criminals,” he told her.

  “Not unless you happen to be Rudolf Hess,” David joked weakly. The attempt was met with stony looks from Eva and Zoe. “We are aware that you are lesbians,” he said, sobering.

  “Then why the charade?” Eva asked. “Why have you been following us? We haven’t done anything wrong.”

  “We know you haven’t. That’s why we are here.” David paused and took a short breath. “We need your help.”

  “With what?”

  Friedrich glanced at David and sat back, allowing him to continue. “Miss Muller, we have been tracking several war criminals in several countries. We have intelligence—” David was interrupted by Earl’s chuckle coming clearly through the balcony doors. “We have intelligence which tells us that Hans Muller is in Sydney right now.”

  “Yes, I know.”

  “You do?”

  “Yes.” Eva nodded before she glanced back to Henry, who was scowling. “My friend Henry told me.”

  “Mr. Franz and I haven’t had the chance to meet—”

  “You’re not making a good first impression,” Zoe muttered under her breath.

  “When was the last time you saw your father?”

  “Stepfather,” Eva corrected Friedrich. “He was in a building that was blown up by the Greek Resistance,” Eva patiently explained. “I didn’t see it, but I was told it got blown up.”

  David smiled at Eva’s reply. “So you were certain he is dead?” he asked, removing another photograph from the file in front of them. He showed it to Eva.

  “You do like your photographs,” Zoe said. She leaned across to see the photo that Eva held.

  Eva stared at the image for a long moment. She sighed and showed it to Zoe, who swore in startled but vehement Greek.

  Eva found her hands shaking as she held the photograph and tried not to let the fears that were bubbling to the surface overwhelm her. Zoe took the picture out of her hand, then crumpled it up in disgust and threw it on the table. Eva put her arm around Zoe’s shoulders and brought her close, wanting to have her near.

  “We won’t let him hurt you,” David said in Greek, surprising both Eva and Zoe. “I can speak Greek and German,” he added in explanation. “Look, Miss Muller, I know what this man has done to you.”

  “No, you don’t,” Eva replied, her voice breaking at the realization that her tormentor was still alive.

  “He will pay for his crimes,” David said. “You have to believe me. I know you don’t want to trust me, and there isn’t any reason for you to do so.”

  “Why should I trust you?” Eva asked.

  “Because I want to catch him as much as you want to see him punished for his crimes,” David replied, and leaned forward. “I know what was done to you, Miss Muller. I know you have suffered at this man’s hands.”

  “What do you want?” Eva’s question was barely a whisper.

  “We want you to help us catch him,” David replied.

  At that moment, the bedroom door opened and Father Haralambos came out. “What is going on out here?” he demanded, putting on his glasses.

  Eva stood and went to her father. “These men are from the War Crimes Unit and they want my help in catching Hans Muller.”

  He was taken aback by the news. “Isn’t Muller dead?” he asked as he put an arm around Eva’s shoulders. His expression was concerned and alert.

  “No,” Zoe angrily replied.

  David looked at Friedrich. “This is going well,” he whispered sotto voce, but loudly enough for everyone in the room to hear. “Miss Muller, believe me,” David began in a more normal tone of voice, leaning forward to address Eva, “we can capture this man without your help, but it would be easier if you helped us.”

  “If you can do it on your own, go and do it,” Zoe said tersely.

  “We are a small unit, Miss Lambros, and we are chronically understaffed,” David patiently explained. He stood and paced next to the sofa. “There are three of us trying to bring these people to face justice. I know what it means to—”

  “How do you know, Mr. Harrison? How do you know how we are feeling?” Eva asked.

  David si
ghed and closed his eyes a moment before opening them again and focusing on the men and women who awaited his reply. “In 1945, I was a German translator in the British army. We were the first to enter the Bergen-Belsen concentration camp.”

  “Elena was there,” Zoe whispered. “That’s my friend, Elena Mannheim. She was in Bergen-Belsen.”

  “I saw what these animals did, Miss Lambros, and if your friend survived, she is one of the lucky ones.”

  “Elena has never spoken about what happened,” Zoe replied.

  David closed his eyes and swallowed audibly. “I doubt she will want to remember it,” he said. “Bergen-Belsen was what I assume hell to be. Thousands were sick, they were dying, they were dead. I was there.” He paused and took out his cigarettes. “May I?”

  Eva nodded. She found she needed one herself. Earl had the same idea and produced a lit cigarette for her. Zoe held onto her, quietly watching as Eva brought the cigarette to her lips, her hand shaking a little.

  “I vowed to spend my life in catching these fuc— ... I’m sorry, but this isn’t just a job for me. It’s not just a job for Friedrich, either. He lost his entire family in Auschwitz.”

  “I’m sorry, my son,” Father Haralambos said quietly as he held Friedrich’s gaze with his own.

  “It’s something we have vowed to do, to catch these animals,” Friedrich stated, his normally quiet voice firm. “We can’t let these murderers live a quiet life in the countryside. I can’t do that,” he added.

  Eva stubbed out her cigarette in the ashtray Earl had brought in from outside. “I need to talk to Zoe privately,” she said and got up from the sofa. She took Zoe’s hand and led her into their bedroom. As they left the room, Eva glanced over her shoulder and saw Father Haralambos raise a firm hand to the two men facing him. David and Friedrich wordlessly accepted the former priest’s silent admonition.

  Once inside the safety of their bedroom, Eva closed the door and melted into Zoe’s embrace. They stood in the middle of the room holding each other, gaining strength from their bond.

  “Evy, I know what he said is right, but I don’t want you in that bastard’s firing line.” Zoe led Eva to the edge of the bed and pushed her down, then put her arms around her neck and looked into her eyes. “I made a vow too.”