Enough. It had been her decision to do this. And it was the right thing to do.
It had to be.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
When Jenni pulled the car into the parking lot beside Pearly’s Dance Hall, the boom and rumble of Gene Krupa’s ‘Drum Boogie’ pounded through the walls and rattled the car windows. Max listened to the upbeat song, picturing the people inside laughing and talking as they skipped and hopped and twirled. When he and Jenni walked in, those people would all turn, and he could imagine their expressions. Fear, hatred, contempt – to name a few. All would be judgemental. All would be unwelcoming.
Jenni’s fingers snaked through his. ‘We can do this, Max.’
Sure, they could do this. But should they?
Instead of thinking about what waited inside, he turned and savoured the vision here in this car. Jenni looked breathtaking, and it had taken not a small amount of willpower to refrain from pulling her into his arms and kissing her. She’d allowed it once, but he wouldn’t push his luck.
‘Well, the longer we wait, the worse it’s going to be.’
She was right, of course and, biting back a sigh, he climbed out of the car and into the cold night. The overcast sky brought a new chill to the air, and promised more snowfall. It might work to his advantage. Wouldn’t it make sense to leave the dance early if the weather was poor?
With Jenni’s hand firmly tucked into the crook of his arm, Max led her through the gravel parking lot. He felt a small tremor in her hand, and for some strange reason, it gave him some comfort to know she wasn’t Wonder Woman after all. If only she had a Lasso of Truth, though; it might make tonight easier.
A blast of hot air hit them as they opened the door and made their way into the lobby. The girl in the ticket booth gaped at them as they approached, and Max recognized her as Betty from the drugstore, who’d been so enamoured with his accent.
‘Good evening,’ he said. ‘Tickets for two.’
Betty recovered herself and nodded, handing him back change and giving them each a ticket.
‘Danke,’ Max told her, and as she had that day in the drugstore, Betty melted at the German word.
‘Save me a dance?’ she asked, the dimple in her cheek deepening.
The girl’s boldness surprised him, but Jenni’s fingers curled around his bicep and stopped him short. He didn’t want to dance with anyone but Jenni tonight.
‘Well,’ he murmured to Jenni as they moved to the cloakroom, ‘that was quite a shock.’
Jenni chuckled. ‘Betty is a big flirt. She’s also trouble with a capital T.’
‘Then it’s best I steer clear of her.’ He shuddered. ‘I don’t think I could handle any more problems.’
After hanging up their coats, they strolled down the hallway, the music growing louder with every step. It felt as if he was going to his doom, and he rather thought one of Mozart’s requiems should be playing instead of a Benny Goodman tune.
The double doors stood wide open, exposing the mob of couples twisting and turning on the wooden dance floor, and, taking a deep breath, Max followed Jenni inside.
He tried not to wince at the almost overwhelming scene of music and bodies. Couples crowded at tables, their faces illuminated by candle centrepieces, while others loitered by the bar or mingled at the edges of the dance floor. Red, white and pink streamers and construction-paper hearts hung everywhere. Almost everyone was focused on the drummer in the big band orchestra, who was playing a complicated solo. When he’d finished, his face glistening with sweat, the place erupted in applause while the orchestra hit the final notes of the song.
It was during the moment of silence between the end of the song and the beginning of the next that people began noticing Max and Jenni. Some barely spared them a glance, but the majority did double-takes, then hurried over to their crowd of friends at the bar or leaned over to whisper to people at their table. Beside him, he felt Jenni tense, and that only made him want to turn around and walk right out.
‘Thank you, ladies and gentleman.’ The band leader, dressed in a white tuxedo, his hair slicked back, nodded to the crowd. ‘Now it’s time to grab your Valentine and slow things down a bit with this next number.’
The band immediately launched into the romantic strains of ‘Moonlight Serenade’ and, suddenly, Jenni’s hand was leading him onto the floor alongside numerous other couples. Max put one hand at the small of her back, and held her fingers with the other. He hadn’t danced since Berlin, but he found his feet moved automatically in step to the music.
He could feel eyes boring into him from every angle, from every spot on the dance floor and in the hall itself. The itch to turn and meet those gazes nearly overwhelmed him. Any one of them could be responsible for stealing the diary, or vandalizing the memorial or the shop windows, or taking the letter. Even now they could be plotting a way to do something worse, simply because he’d had the gall to show up.
‘You’re doing fine,’ Jenni murmured, locking eyes with him. ‘Just forget about everyone else and look at me.’
If only it were so easy. But then, why shouldn’t it be? This was Jenni, the woman he loved and admired, the woman who continued to stand by his side even when everyone else abandoned him, even when she knew his past. It wasn’t difficult to shift his focus to the smooth curve of her cheeks, the long lashes, the pert nose and those beautiful lips.
Jenni cocked her head back and gave him a dazzling smile. ‘Did I tell you how handsome you look tonight, Max?’
He laughed, the tension in his neck easing slightly. ‘No, you did not. But thank you.’
He’d put on his blue pinstripe, double-breasted suit and nearly panicked at just how much weight he’d lost these past few months. Of course, his diet mostly consisted of coffee and cigarettes, not exactly a nutritious way to live.
‘How does it feel to live dangerously?’ Jenni asked.
He knew she was trying to make light of the situation, but he couldn’t permit himself to let down his guard. He had to stay alert.
‘I don’t like it,’ he confessed, ‘and I don’t want to make a habit of it.’
‘Relax. It’s one night. We’ll both survive one night.’
The song ended, and as the couples clapped, Jenni led Max to a vacant table. She smiled and said hello to people, but didn’t linger to visit, even though it was obvious they were dying to ask her questions. Max forced himself to smile and nod, but it was clear from their frosty stares that they responded only out of politeness.
‘There, that wasn’t so bad,’ Jenni said, settling into her seat. ‘You know what they say. You always imagine it being worse than it actually is.’
Except the night had only just begun.
‘I wish Hank and Celia could have come,’ Jenni said, fanning herself against the heat. ‘But he can’t dance with that bum leg of his. Still, it would have been nice to have some friends here.’
Max nodded in agreement. As he gazed around the crowd, he recognized a few familiar faces: Mr and Mrs Macintosh, Avery Boon, and he quickly looked away when he spotted Mayor Lowe standing at the bar talking animatedly to a group of men and gesturing in Max’s direction. He recognized Roy Carlton. Damn it.
Jenni leaned closer to him. ‘What’s wrong?’
‘Lowe is here,’ he said. ‘And he’s with Roy Carlton. I wouldn’t be surprised if the two of them try to make a scene.’
‘Doubtful. I think Lowe is scared of me now – ever since I smacked him. The other day, he crossed the street rather than talk to me.’
‘That sounds rather childish.’
Jenni shrugged. ‘I’d rather he did that then walk right past me and not say anything. If he tries to cause you any trouble tonight though, I’ll give him what for. As for Roy, his wife is sitting right over there.’ She nodded towards the corner. ‘All I have to do is tell her what Roy did and she’ll set him straight.’
The thought only sent a surge of anxiety through him and he gripped her hand. ‘Promise me you won’t say
anything to Lowe. There’s no telling what he could do.’
She gave him a funny look. ‘All right, all right, I won’t. Sheesh, Max. You need to relax. This isn’t Berlin. The Gestapo isn’t going to jump out of the shadows and arrest you.’
Max said nothing, but his eyes roamed the room just the same, looking for signs of… what? Trench coats and Lugers? In Berlin, you kept your head down and didn’t look people in the eye. Still, you developed a sense of how to know who was following you, or who might be waiting in a doorway to pounce.
He heard snatches of conversation, about how it would be a cold one tonight, about tomorrow’s church dinner, and of course, about himself and Jenni.
‘… can’t believe she brought him!’
‘… disgraceful… she should know better.’
‘They say he knew Hitler!’
The last one almost made him laugh. Almost.
When he glanced at Jenni, he knew she’d heard the comments too. And when the orchestra launched into a rousing tune, she jumped to her feet. ‘C’mon, Max. Let’s dance. That’ll loosen us both up.’
For a moment, he allowed himself to enjoy having her in his arms, and as he twirled her around and her laughter filled the air, he could imagine that this was his normal, that none of the danger and angst of the last month had happened. But then, if it hadn’t, he never would have met her. And that alone made it all worth it.
The song ended and the band immediately launched into Artie Shaw’s quick-paced ‘Non-Stop Flight’, but Jenni shook her head when he asked if she wanted to keep dancing.
‘I’m beat,’ Jenni said, waving a hand over her face. ‘Let’s take a break.’
As they left the floor and made their way towards their table, Mayor Lowe stepped in front of them, blocking their path.
‘You’ve got a nerve, showing up here among decent people.’ Lowe’s whisky-laden breath hit Max full in the nostrils. ‘And you,’ he continued, sneering at Jenni, ‘carrying a bastard child.’
‘Why you lousy—’ Jenni began, but Max put a hand on her arm. It was his turn to defend her, damn it, and he would not cower.
‘Leave her out of this, Lowe,’ Max said softly, his voice threaded with warning. ‘Or do you want your beloved voters to see what a jackass you really are, insulting a woman in public?’
Lowe glanced around and reddened. ‘They all know what she is, and what you are too. A thief and a liar.’
Anger pulsed in his temples, and for a moment, Max was tempted to give in, pummel Lowe until he begged for mercy. But not here, not now. In such a crowd as this, they would turn against him all too swiftly, and he’d likely not leave alive.
Max took out his wallet and pulled out a dollar bill. ‘Why don’t you get yourself another drink, Lowe?’ He said it loud enough for those around him to hear, then tucked the bill into Lowe’s front jacket pocket and grinned. ‘Prost!’
Ignoring the shocked gasps and a few snickers from the onlookers, Max took Jenni’s hand and weaved through the crowd, not bothering to look back.
‘Gee whiz,’ Jenni said as they reached the hallway. ‘I’m impressed. That was gutsy.’
‘Or stupid.’ Max winked at her. ‘We’ll see which. Come. Let’s get some air.’
They gathered their coats from the cloakroom and went outside. The air had turned colder. Sharp ice pellets strafed his cheeks, but he didn’t care. Jenni’s arm, so carefully tucked into the crook of his, banished the chill, and for a precious few moments, he felt invincible.
‘See? It wasn’t as bad as you thought, Mr Doom and Gloom,’ Jenni teased. ‘In fact, I’d say you might have even made a few admirers back there. Not everyone in this town likes Mayor Lowe.’
‘A few admirers, eh? I’m not so sure about that.’
The way she looked, the blue neon sign above gently bathing her face in colour, made him want to kiss her again. Maybe she was right. Maybe this had been the right thing to do, to come here and show people they weren’t afraid. He’d skilfully handled Lowe, hadn’t he?
‘Thanks for sticking up for me, Max.’
He smiled. ‘I had to return the favour. Though I think you are much better at it than I am.’ His gaze lingered on her lips. ‘I don’t think I’ll ever forget the look on Chief Thompson’s face when you flashed him that killer smile of yours. You had him, as they say, hook, line and sinker.’
Jenni laughed. ‘I see you’re making progress learning American expressions.’
‘Kooky taught me that one.’
‘I don’t doubt it. Oh!’ Her eyes widened. ‘I just remembered. I said I’d call Celia to check on Marty.’ She impulsively kissed his cheek. ‘Meet me on the dance floor in five minutes?’
‘Of course.’
He watched her scurry back inside, and then leaned against the building, breathing in the cold, crisp air, marvelling at the night’s events. Yes. It would be all right after all. In fact, if he was a very, very lucky man, Jenni just might return his affection someday. If he were going to dream, he might as well dream big.
He fished in his coat pocket for his packet of cigarettes, and stopped when his fingers hit a solid, foreign object. It felt like…
He pulled out the item and staggered back. The diary? What was Mrs Stanwick’s diary doing in his coat pocket?
The euphoria he’d felt moments earlier slipped away, carried in the wind like a dropped handkerchief. This didn’t make sense. Why would the thief return it now? And just what was he supposed to do with it? If he handed it over to Lowe, they’d never believe he’d not had it this whole time. What the hell to do? Give it to Celia?
But then his historian’s curiosity ignited. Finally, he could see if Mrs Stanwick had written about that night, or whether she’d had an inkling of what happened to her son. He could solve this damn mystery and maybe, just maybe, put this whole thing behind him.
But he couldn’t do this without Jenni.
Thrusting the diary back into his pocket, he fairly ran back inside, but forced himself to slow down lest he trip or run into someone and risk a punch to the face. He spotted Jenni returning to their table and hurried over to her.
‘Max!’ she said, looking at him with astonishment. ‘What’s wrong? Why do you still have your coat on? Is everything all right?’
He slid onto the chair beside her. ‘Jenni, the diary,’ he murmured into her ear. ‘It’s in my coat pocket.’
She gasped. ‘What?’
‘Someone must have put it there after I left it in the cloakroom. Look.’ He slid the diary out, careful to keep it concealed from prying eyes.
‘Oh my gosh. Max, we have to see what’s in it.’
He nodded and stood, slipping the diary into his inside pocket. He helped her up. ‘Let’s go.’
They turned to leave but a shrill whistle made everyone freeze, including the band. Chief Thompson and two of his officers were making their way through the crowd. Lowe followed in their wake, eyes glittering in triumph.
‘You! Koenig!’ Thompson shouted.
Mein Gott. They knew. Whoever had put the diary in his pocket had set him up. And he could do nothing but stand there like a cornered fox and wait for the bloodhounds to rip him to pieces.
Jenni’s hand slid into his and squeezed.
‘Well, now, professor,’ Chief Thompson said. ‘Looks like we’ve been right all along.’
‘What are you talking about?’
Thompson knew he had a captive audience, and he wasn’t about to squander the opportunity.
‘We got an anonymous tip. We went to the Stanwick cottage and found some posters and a can of paint, the same kind used on the statue and on the business windows downtown.’
Max felt the mood shift in the crowd, turning from shocked to something far more malevolent.
‘Professor Koenig,’ Thompson said, the glint in his eye far too bright, ‘you are under arrest for wilful destruction of property and treason against the United States.’
CHAPTER TWENTY
The che
erful, romantic dance had quickly changed into a sinister, menacing nightmare. Stunned, Jenni could only watch as Thompson’s two officers seized Max’s arms and handcuffed him. A glob of spit from the crowd landed on his cheek. The humiliation made his face flame.
‘Max!’ Jenni cried, trying to get through to him, but the crowd seethed with tension, keeping her away. One man pushed Max, and he stumbled against the officer leading him out of the room.
‘You damn Kraut!’ a man yelled.
Others joined in, shouting and yelling, and the band quit playing. No one even noticed. They’d caught him, finally, after all this time, and they would enjoy every last second of their triumph.
Apparently, none of them knew about the diary in Max’s coat. But if they did…
Jenni clutched her hands, hard. If they did, he might not make it to the jail alive.
She had to get that diary somehow. And there was no time to think, no time to plan. Just time to act.
Jenni pushed her way through the crowd, not caring if she stepped on toes or elbowed ribcages. Getting to Max was now a matter of life or death.
Before they took Max into the hallway, she ducked between two men hollering at Max and grabbed Thompson’s arm. ‘Stop! Please!’
Thompson glared at her. ‘You! What the hell do you think you’re doing?’
‘Let me say goodbye.’
‘Jenni,’ Max said, his voice strained, ‘please. I don’t want you to get hurt.’
Without saying a word, she pulled his chin down and kissed him.
She ran her hands up and down his chest. One chance. She had this one chance to get the diary.
In the background she heard more gasps of outrage, more insults flung towards her. It didn’t matter what anyone else thought, didn’t matter that she’d gone and done it now, acting so shamefully towards a traitor, forever cementing her reputation in this town as a Kraut-lover.
There. In his left inside pocket. The diary.
She deepened the kiss, pressing herself against Max, slipping her hand inside his pocket.
The Stranger From Berlin Page 30
