They finished a second beer and drained the brandy before she finally spoke. “Let me take a look at that ear.” He tilted his head under the floor lamp to display the damage. “My God! What a horrible mess I made of you!” She warmed a washcloth with water from the kettle and returned to dab at the wound. He endured the ministrations silently, flinching only occasionally. Having rinsed out the cloth, she returned from the sink for a second go. Finally she saturated the cloth with cold tap water, wrung it out and folded it neatly. “Hold this to your ear. It’ll help reduce the swelling. Had I known…well, you know…I’m really very sorry for all this.”
He shrugged his shoulders. “You and me both.”
The kettle began to whistle. She filled the tea pot in the kitchen as he picked up the thread of their earlier conversation: “Look, with regard to notifying your boyfriend, that torture factory out there is only known to Hallinger and a few of his close buddies. They won’t miss Veidtner and the others for at least a day or two. But if your friend Lemmon raises a stink about what happened to you, word will spread and we’re all done for, him included.” He accepted a cup of tea. “Berlin is finished for you anyway, so consider a move to Dresden or Vienna. Big cities, easy to lose yourself in the crowds. You’ll both be safer there. But meanwhile, give me a day to get out of town before telling your reporter friend what’s happened.”
She began to relax, the horrid memories becoming muddled. Likely the alcohol at work. Returning to the sofa she tucked in her legs. “I suppose a day or two can’t hurt.” A concession, and was that a fleeting smile? She wasn’t certain. “You never answered my question. Why did you save me? And who are you really?”
“Long story.”
“I have time…thanks to you.” She needed the truth. Could he be using her to identify her other friends? But then why kill his comrades, and can one ever trust someone who betrays his buddies? Too many questions. She started with the easy ones: “So why this conversion from Nazi to savior of tortured women? You like girls dressed as boys?”
He hesitated, clearly wondering how much to divulge. This time she was certain of that grin. Gentle. Open, not cynical. “I’ve been undercover for almost a year. A few of us operate within the local Nazi cells.”
“Bolsheviks or Socialists?”
“A little of both, perhaps. It makes no difference—we despise all that Hitler stands for.”
She focused on his eyes, watching for clues. “So you’re spies.”
“Germany needs them more than ever if it’s to survive.” His demeanor changed again, worry creasing his brow. He looked vulnerable with that washcloth plastered to his brutalized ear.
“You’ve seen me naked,” she reined in an urge to smile at the surprise on his face and then confessed, “and I watched you change out of that horrid uniform. I believe we’ve shared enough for me to know your name?”
“We won’t be together that long.” He glanced toward the telephone, thoughtful, finally yielding. “But Karl will do.”
There was something attractive there, very masculine, and not simply because he’d come to her rescue. She sensed kindness as with Ryan, but a strength and courage she’d seldom encountered in Europe, much less back home. She fetched the teapot and set it on the table beside the cups from earlier. “Okay then, Karl it is. I’m Isabel, but you probably know that already, since you know about Ryan. So, what comes next, Karl?”
“Get to safety somewhere, as I said. Berlin has nothing more for either of us. They know your name and where you work, and will eventually track down your remaining Commie friends if they don’t do the smart thing and go to ground.” She sensed he’d learned something from his call but was hesitant to share the information. She waited for him to continue. “It may be too late for the tall one with the beard, the one who took a blade to the throat at the warehouse melee. The bastards went after him this afternoon but I couldn’t break free to warn my people. Had to leave a message.”
“Doro’s Jürgen? Dead?”
“Likely. My friends will have intervened if it wasn’t already too late, but don’t count on anything.”
She felt another bolt of sadness. Grieving for her losses would have to come later. For now she carried the suffocating weight deep in her throat.
Her pain seemed to touch him: “Sorry, but it must be said: I know for a fact that even with Veidtner dead the search for you won’t end. That goon was just an enforcer, a sadistic thug, and I’ll admit it felt good to gut the bastard, but Johann Hallinger’s our real danger from here on out. He’s a more ‘civilized’ Nazi—if such a thing exists—educated, but as ruthless as they come. He issued the orders to wipe out your entire group. He knows how you bested his men the other night; you made them look foolish. He’s smart, vicious and rising fast in the Party. Your people stained his reputation and he’s out for blood.”
Isabel knew all this would never have happened had that cop not encouraged her to attend the meeting. Her cheeks began to burn. “So that damned detective Brandt who sent me knew I was walking into danger! That Kripo sonofabitch set me up.”
“Well…not exactly.” He placed the bloodied washcloth on the coffee table, then thought better of it and took it to the kitchen. He returned to join her on the couch. “Your ‘damned’ Inspector Brandt is actually one of ours.” He hesitated as this news sank in. “Hate to admit it, but he’s the one I just reached by phone, and he concedes this wasn’t his brightest idea. He’s damning himself already, but only after he cursed me for waking him at such an ungodly hour. The man’s horrified at all that’s happened but had no idea Goebbels would show up and security be so tight. Our good inspector does mean well and he has connections we can use. He’ll set you up in another city and do whatever he can.”
She clenched her fists, fighting an urge to lash out at someone, anyone. “He can’t bring Doro back…or Jürgen.”
“Brandt is convinced the world must learn the threat these Nazis pose. And I agree. I know first-hand. They’ll do anything and everything to get control of the country: sabotage, assassination, blackmail, extortion. Tonight you saw what some of them are capable of. Fear and unrest wins votes, and they’re already getting delegates to the Reichstag. The other parties are divided, but these Nazis have one purpose. If Hitler makes good on his dream, all hope for Germany goes out the window.”
“So your Brandt thought I’d slip right in, find an angle for a great story, and then come out again in one piece to publish it?”
“He put me there to keep an eye on you, but things got out of hand the moment you showed up with another woman. And, my God, dressed as Garçonnes? I guess we should have known you’d try something crazy, given that hooker get-up you wore last week when all hell broke loose in Wedding! Now that outfit sure drew everyone’s attention!”
She shrugged. “I thought I was dressing appropriate for such a shady neighborhood.” She eyed him intently. “So you were there in Wedding. Saw it all.”
He appeared uncomfortable as he took a sip of tea. “I was there. Had to be. But I held back in the fight as much as I could.” He set down his cup. “Veidtner wasn’t even supposed to be there tonight—he was off to Hamburg to settle some matter. But the fact is he already had a personal grudge against you for that drubbing at the warehouse. He’d spotted you and Lemmon on the street, and once the fight broke out he was set to take out your friend when someone bashed him over the head. He said you watched it all and laughed at him as he went down.”
“Very likely. It happened so fast I couldn’t really say.”
“One thing’s for certain—the man hated lack of respect or ridicule. He demanded deference. So when his boys found where you work, he came back early. I learned too late that he’d returned to the city so couldn’t update Brandt. They were going to snatch you off the street tomorrow anyway and hold you prisoner until he could teach you a lesson. So when you showed at the tavern tonight in that ridiculous disguise, your game was over.”
She sniffed back tears as the vivid memories resu
rfaced. “Yes, he promised us he’d go for Ryan once done with me.”
“I’d told him I wanted to screen for uninvited guests so was able to step in as one of your guards.” He hesitated, gathering his thoughts. “But there's something more you should know. What was happening in that cursed ‘shed,’ that was the first time I’d been there. I never believed the rumors but now I know those cretins deserve what they dish out and more!” He had taken her hand as he spoke, but now seemed embarrassed and released it again. He leaned his head back on the couch. “My mind was made up to kill the bastards the moment I saw how they treated you.”
She felt a sudden urge to comfort him but remained silent, unnerved by his anger, suppressing her own, feeling obliged to explain her own brutality. She had destroyed a man’s face with an iron rod and impaled him in unquenchable rage. When she finally spoke, tears remained but her voice was calm and accepting: “That Arschloch was raping her, you know…my friend Doro. I couldn’t spare her that before the end.”
He again picked up her hand. “Far worse for her had you not taken him down. They were on her trail no matter what you did tonight. I can’t say whether I could have gotten you both out—that was my plan, and my duty—but at least you’re here now and safe for the moment.”
She pulled her hand free to hug herself, eyes shut to block out the memory. “They’re ruthless criminals, each and every one of them, if you ask me. And the Veidtner types are beyond insane, taking such pleasure in others’ pain.”
“Hallinger’s just as evil, so don’t underestimate him. Perhaps even worse, since word is he mastermind’s the torture and abuse. The ‘shed’ was all his creation.” She began to rock back and forth and he tried to divert her thoughts. “Well, in any case, they’re far more dangerous than your Chicago gangsters, at least from what I read in the magazines. At least your bad guys don’t have a political agenda.” He struck a match and let it burn out, watching the curl of smoke ascend. “Brandt tells me you’re from Chicago?”
“What else does he know about me?”
“He’s a detective, after all, and determined to prevent another mess like that warehouse fiasco and fire, so he does his homework.” Karl tossed the burnt matchstick and ignited another, watching it burn for a moment before lighting a cigarette. “And what we do know about these Nazi bastards—what I’ve witnessed personally for months—is that they’ll use any means to get their way, to manipulate others, to gain leverage.” He released a stream of smoke. “Often as not they succeed.”
“They got nothing of value from Doro and me tonight. All that horror gained them nothing.”
“That’s why we have to get moving. And soon. When word does get out, Hallinger must explain to his big boss Himmler how this happened, and he’ll need to cover his tracks. As Goebbels said, Hitler wants Germans to view them as the savior party to be trusted, the only one who can put this country back on the map and destroy the Versailles oppressors. What you witnessed tonight as a reporter makes you especially dangerous to them. You’ve experienced firsthand their brutality, their lack of self-control. The everyday German can’t be allowed to see this side of the Party, and they want the outside world to view them as respectable leaders. So you must disappear, as was supposed to happen this evening. It’s the way their organization works.”
Isabel was exhausted, drained mentally as well as physically. “But I’m not personally involved, not really taking political sides. I’m just doing my job as a correspondent, trying to report on all the warring factions in this godforsaken republic of yours!”
“Judging by what you’ve already seen and done, I’d say you’ve now definitely chosen a side.” He gingerly tested the damage to his ear and jaw. “And we can agree on one thing: Hitler can’t be allowed that first step. Should he seize control, all Europe could be next, and the whole world will have hell to pay. You had a bitter taste of that tonight.” His voice was leaden, all banter forgotten. “Once you and I leave the city, Brandt can direct his efforts to putting the brakes on Hallinger’s search. He’s good at his job.”
“Not very good tonight.”
Karl checked his watch. It was approaching two in the morning.
Mid-afternoon, Toni discovered visitors asleep on her couch. Isabel’s head slumped against the shoulder of a young man, good-looking were it not for horrible swelling of one ear and red scrapes down his jaw. At the foot of the sofa lay a pile of badly bloodied clothing she recognized as an SA uniform.
Toni gently nudged her friend awake and Isabel made groggy introductions. She explained that poor Doro had died in Nazi hands and this man Karl had saved her life, and now the filthy bastards would be out to get them both. Barely controlling her tears as it was, she spared Toni the gruesome details.
“Izzy darling, come with me.” Toni took Isabel by the hand. “We need to do something with that wild hair of yours.” In the bathroom she did her best to style Isabel’s chopped locks into a feminine bob. Pomade made her hair look halfway passable in the mirror. Isabel tried to tell more of their story but her friend shushed her. “Later. For now, let’s make you human again.” A little rouge on the cheeks and a touch of lipstick and Isabel almost appeared herself.
She gave Toni a hug. “Thank you, love. Is it okay if we stay here a little while?”
“Nothing to thank, Izz. You’ve clearly had a hell of a night. Staying here won’t be a problem. Now a bite to eat for the three of us and I hit the sack. I’m bushed.” After changing into a day robe and making a thorough search of her cupboard, Toni rounded up a makeshift lunch for her guests. “You know I sleep most days till eight-thirty or so, then back to the club.” She set out half a loaf of bread, a chunk of hard cheese, a length of salami and two bottles of beer. “Sorry, slim pickings. I don’t eat here much.” She laughed as she cleared away their empties from the night before. “I’d swear I had more beer in there.”
They came back out to the living room to find Karl with his hand resting on the telephone receiver. He appeared pensive. “I left a message for my friend. I hope I’m not taking advantage using your phone without asking.”
“Everything here is at your disposal, Karl. I so appreciate you rescuing Izzy from herself. She usually gets out of trouble on her own, despite the odds.” She wrapped her arm around Isabel’s shoulders. “Glad you were there to help, though judging from that ear, you may have preferred being elsewhere.” She stuck a cigarette in the long holder and lit up. “You’re both welcome to stay as long as you wish. After I grab a few hours’ shuteye I’ll go out and get us some groceries.”
“A gracious offer, but I’ll be gone by evening. No need to overstay my welcome.”
Toni was insistent: “Seriously, this place sits empty most of the day and you’ll need time to make plans. Don’t rush it.” She sat in the chair and crossed her legs, revealing a bit of thigh. Isabel noticed her friend assuming a more feminine pose. “Plenty of room for you on the sofa, Karl. Isabel and I can share the bed.” Toni smiled slyly, assessing him with her eyes, giving Isabel a knowing look. “Or if the couch is uncomfortable, the bed for the three of us, perhaps?”
Karl looked away. A blush was a rare trait among the men Isabel knew. “Thank you, darling,” she said, flashing her friend an innocent smile, “but time is pressing. We’re waiting for Karl’s friend to get us out of town till things cool down.”
Karl’s embarrassment faded to a dark frown. “I don’t think you understand the gravity of our situation, Isabel—things aren’t about to cool down. They’re going to heat up. The danger won’t go away, so don’t think you can lay low for a few days and return to work in this city. It’s simply not going to happen.”
“I know, but—”
All three turned as the phone rang. Toni stubbed out her smoke as she put the receiver to her ear. She turned toward Karl and nodded as she listened to the caller. “Yes, he’s here,” she said at last. Covering the mouthpiece with her palm, she smiled. “You seem to be the only ‘pleasant-looking man with a clef
t chin,’ so I believe this call’s for you.”
He was already reaching for the receiver. “Yes, yes,” he repeated several times, his brow furrowed, adding "that makes sense” and finishing at last with “understood.” He hung up and turned to Isabel. “We didn’t get the break I expected. Hallinger’s already on to us and raising hell. He’s calling in every marker and he’s got no shortage—powerful men in both the municipal and criminal police. They have my photo from my SA card and an artist’s sketch of you as both hooker and male imposter.” He creased his brow, obviously worried. “Stormtroopers are posting to all train stations, S-Bahn lines, bus terminals, even Tempelhof. Your office is under surveillance, and your apartment address known to the police so you can’t return there.”
“My God!” Isabel already had the phone in her hand. “I can’t wait any longer—I have to call Ryan!” Karl depressed the cradle and cut the connection. “No, wait!”
“We can’t afford to wait!” She pushed Karl aside in near panic. “Ryan has to know they’re after him!”
“That’s just it—Brandt says Lemmon isn’t even in their sights! He’s not a target!”
“How’s that possible? Veidtner told me specifically Ryan would be next.”
“Hallinger must have arrived at that cursed place right after we left last night, likely hoping to still enjoy the horror show. Instead, he found Veidtner and the others dead and us gone with the car. Now he has no choice but to rub us out quickly to protect his tarnished reputation. I must die for betraying the Party and for helping you escape. To maintain his own standing, he’ll have to show Himmler he’s covered his tracks and shown what happens to traitors.”
Isabel surrendered the phone as she followed the rest of his reasoning. “Go on.”
“Let’s face it—I’ve set a very bad example for the Party faithful. But we know that bastard Veidtner wanted to deal with you personally, to make you pay in blood and suffering for his humiliation. He told you as much, so would have kept your role in the warehouse brawl hidden to deal with you in his own way on his own terms.”
Echoes of Silence Page 15
