The Knife-Edge Path

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The Knife-Edge Path Page 14

by Patrick T. Leahy


  She saw the hell-bent murder in his eyes and wrenched out of his grip, stumbling backward. “You want to kill me so badly, Ubbink, go on then, pull the trigger!”

  Ubbink fondled his gun, leering. “I’ve never shot a woman before.”

  De Vos cut in. “Kurt wanted us to find her, Ubbink. He didn’t say anything about killing.”

  “God damn it, Henk!” Ubbink snapped. “You know goddamn well what we decided.”

  “What you decided.”

  “What the hell’s got you?”

  “We promised Kurt we’d bring her back if we found her. She could have gone on lying, but I don’t think she has. What’ve you got to shoot her for?”

  “We didn’t find her. That’s all Kurt has to know.”

  “Sorry, I won’t back you up on that.”

  Ubbink spat into the leaves. “She’s no good to Kurt. What we don’t know is how bad she is.”

  De Vos stepped up to him, causing him to turn the gun aside. “If we go back without her, I won’t lie for you. Either that or you can kill us both. Go on, then. Dust off your blood lust and pull the trigger. Just remember, Kurt will have to know.”

  Ubbink’s face darkened to the same shade as the night. He swung the gun toward Geli. “You’re bluffing, Henk.”

  Geli lunged up against the silencer, feeling the snout until it hurt. “How do I know it’s not you that wants to do Kurt harm? Kill me as if I wouldn’t talk. But don’t pretend to love him if you don’t know what I’d say. And if you don’t, you won’t get it out of me!”

  Ubbink stared at her, then took a step back from the pressure of the gun against her belly.

  “All I want to do is go with him!” Geli wailed, and heard her voice again out there banging against the night that seemed to take a breath before the next bomb hit, nearer than the last. A sickening gob of fear stuck in her throat. “The war will soon be over. The Russians are at the gates. One of you come with me to my flat and wait there while I pack. The other - right now all Kurt needs to know is - you’ll be going westward, won’t you? Toward Allied lines.”

  “We’ll have to let Kurt off someplace before we turn back for Holland,” De Vos said.

  “The Allies are almost in Belgium. My French passport will help us once we get close to Allied lines. I’ll be there to vouch for him. I’ll back up every word he’s got to say to the authorities.”

  De Vos said, “To be of any use, you know you’ll have to fall on your sword.”

  “She hasn’t got that in her,” Ubbink muttered.

  “Give me a chance!” Geli cried. “If you care about him, let me try! What can you lose?”

  The gun in Ubbink’s hand began to lower until it hung limply at his side. “Once you’re free of us, you could double cross him.”

  “And gain what? I’m telling you the war is almost over. My love for him is all I have to offer.”

  “Love,” Ubbink sneered. “If it were up to me -”

  She looked at the hate buried in his eyes, too shallow, and in her heart she faltered where she’d thought love was safe, and it turned restlessly. A shadow lurked and fled, cast by Reggie running for his life. But he was dead. Kurt was alive.

  “Even if he doesn’t love me, Ubbink, and I knew it, for God’s sake take me with you. Think of him, not me.”

  Fog drifted across Ubbink’s eyes. He raised his arm and bent his head over the luminous dials of his watch. “You’re going to walk back to your flat. If you don’t see one of us soon, make your own arrangements to get out.”

  “Promise me you won’t tell Kurt about me. Please! Let me tell him when the time comes.”

  “You’re in no position to be promised anything. One of us will come back for you tonight, or not. That will depend on Kurt. Now start walking.”

  Her mind jumped with another plea: Obermeyer. He could be out there, waiting, but her only chance was to keep quiet. She watched them walk away, then, until the mist fell in around them and they were gone. She started up the hill toward the narthex, but she would skirt it, not going in. Pastor Mochalsky’s eyes might follow her all the way through the nave, clearing his conscience of the silence in which he had not really gone along with her murder for the good of God’s better plan.

  18

  In the dark she felt around for the gun in the top drawer. A little light came through the doorway from the other room where de Vos waited. The cold, heavy steel came into her hand. She hurried with it back into the kitchen.

  De Vos looked up from the table where a candle burned and he was chewing on some bread and cheese. She couldn’t know what had moved Kurt to send him, but was glad he was the one elected. He stopped chewing.

  Geli laid the gun on the table, near his hand. “You’d better keep this. My husband left it behind. It’s loaded. I’ve never had to use it.”

  De Vos laid back a rumpled corner of the tablecloth. “No. I’ve got this.”

  She looked down at a large revolver fitted with a silencer. “Then -?”

  “Leave it here.” His eyes searched her quizzically. “You’re packed?”

  “Another couple of minutes.”

  “Hurry it up. Ubbink’s due back soon. We don’t want to keep him waiting.”

  “Just a few small things,” she said, “of sentimental value.” She went back and dragged her heavy suitcase from the bedroom into the sitting room, and stood there looking at the things she knew she’d never see again. She had salvaged her jewelry, what little money there was left. Not enough to get very far alone, she knew.

  There were all these things she had once loved. They didn’t seem to matter anymore. Some did. The dresses she’d worn when she had hoofed for the Haller Revue. The napkin signed by Richard Tauber. The Chocolate Kiddies poster she had once so coveted. Those photographs from Egypt. The rugs and tassled pillows, Cairo finally left behind. She went over to the Giorgione, said goodbye to it. Tears came into her eyes and smeared the tranquil nudes under the oak trees and that troubadour, plucking his mandolin. Tears for what? Another life when Gunther…

  In the distant dark outside an air raid siren wailed. The bombs hit far away, but in the china cabinet glasses and dishes shifted, tinkling. Tram tracks were torn up everywhere, the underground a death trap. The ending of Berlin was paved with rubble, gaping craters, pictures still hanging in rooms blasted open like calling cards left behind by the obliteration of a family.

  The sudden knocking sounded like a hammer trying to split the door. A chair clattered in the kitchen and De Vos exploded into the doorway.

  “Who’s that?”

  “I don’t know. Stay back there. I’ll get rid of them.”

  He disappeared back into the gloom of the kitchen, dousing the candle, and she stood absolutely still. They might go away. The knob rattled, she snapped off the light, then took one final chance on silence. Weight crunched the door and it flew open.

  The dim light in the hallway silhouetted Obermeyer, draped in his civilian getup. He stood aside and Stumpff trotted in a grin and stood before her, shaking his head ruefully. “Why didn’t you open the door for us, Madame? Is that so much to ask? You’re not yourself. That must be it.”

  “You didn’t give me time.”

  Obermeyer was fumbling for the chain under the abalone lamp. He found it and gave it a tug.

  Stumpff’s face lit up in red light. “Put that out, Obermeyer!”

  There was a clank of the chain against the porcelain and dimness clutched the room again.

  Geli smelled smoke. The candle that De Vos had blown out. She prayed they wouldn’t look that way. Stumpff felt his way toward her, step by gingerly step. The other light still dimly on in the vestibule was not much to see by. Her eyes fell on her suitcase in his path. As he came on he kicked it, lurching forward. He reached down, feeling for the shape he’d tripped over, then straightened up. “Going somewhere, Madame?”

  “No, I just haven’t unpacked, yet.”

  “Come, now. Why would you need a suitcase for a little
trip to St. Anne’s?”

  “I’ve been -” She stopped herself from saying Bornichen. She didn’t know how much he knew, and stood looking back at his smugly leering, earthworm-pink lips. Fear ached in her neck and sucked on her breath. She tried to reach for the old mockery. The smell of smoke was stronger, now. She didn’t dare look toward the kitchen. Obermeyer stood in the way of every lie she thought of, setting her adrift. She’d never paid much attention to the whiteness of his face. It was as if he’d lost a lot of blood, and like a vampire in dire need of a transfusion. De Vos was listening, she knew. He was waiting not for them to leave, because they wouldn’t. The lies that used to light her path flickered in what little time there was to stall them. Under his soggy slouch hat Obermeyer licked his lips. She shrugged out of her coat and tossed it onto the sofa.

  “You wouldn’t have a cigarette on you, would you, Willy?”

  He gaped at her. “Ah, how perfect. Let’s all have a cigarette, shall we?”

  “I wish you’d keep a tighter rein on Obermeyer,” she said. “He followed me all the way to church, and when I spoke to him, he acted like he didn’t know me.”

  “Ah yes, the church. We picked up Mochalsky, by the way. The cross didn’t seem to suit him when words finally ran out. You’re familiar with the good pastor, aren’t you?”

  “No.”

  Obermeyer fidgeted restlessly, shuffling his feet. “She’s making fun of me, Herr Captain. Let me take care of her, now.”

  “Nobody’s taking care of anybody. Put that lamp on again.”

  Obermeyer felt for the chain under the shade and red light slicked a boiled look across Stumpff’s fat jowls.

  “That’s better,” Stumpff said. He grinned at Geli. “Now I can see your face. I wouldn’t advise trying to lie to me. I believe I told you not to go out, but you did. Why?”

  “I was going crazy, all cooped up in here. There’s no crime in going to church, is there?”

  “Riding with a couple of men you once claimed not to know? Good church companions, were they? Devout believers? Or did you just need them to carry your suitcase?”

  Obermeyer said heatedly, “They were the ones, sir, like I told you! The very ones! I was never wrong.”

  “Oh God, Willy. Don’t you know he sees what he wants to see? He’s seen me naked, but I’ve never undressed for him. How can you take the word of the man who tried to rape me?”

  “Rape you!” Obermeyer squealed. “I should -” His hand dropped onto his holster flap, clawing under the snap.

  “Shut up, Obermeyer!” Stumpff thundered. “Get out of the way!”

  Obermeyer’s face seemed to peel back, pulled by his ears. “You mustn’t let her talk that way about me, sir! I can’t let that happen!”

  “You’ll stay out of this and keep your mouth shut!”

  “Sir, I -”

  Stumpff wheeled toward Geli with a kind of slithering aplomb. “Once and for all, Madame, I want to hear it from your lips. How easy was it, running out on me? Did you shed a tear for anybody but yourself?”

  “Willy, can’t you see it? Obermeyer’s mad at me because I sent him on his way. I wouldn’t let him touch me. He would have if I hadn’t threatened to tell you. Tonight he tried to shut me up so you would never know. Willy, his stupid loyalty got to you, put you in a spell. The loyalty of a bird dog. Remember? Talk about a secret weapon! He’s smarter than you think. Just smart enough to use his stupidity against you. Otherwise you’d ask him why he tried to get his way with me behind your back. Reduce the charge to insubordination, he’d go for that, but, now that he’s got that gun he’ll never tell you how I had to put him in his place while you were gone.”

  Stumpff shot a scowl at Obermeyer, who stared back in sheepish wonder. “What about it, Obermeyer?”

  Obermeyer’s mouth fell open, eyes draining of comprehension. “You couldn’t take her word over mine, sir. She lives by lies. You can’t believe a thing she says.”

  Stumpff grunted, as if kicking dirt over the sight of Obermeyer. He turned to Geli. “You’ve been to other places in my absence, Madame. Small wonder you had no use for the car. It wouldn’t do to ride all the way to Bornichen with Obermeyer, now would it?”

  “Bornichen? Why should I -?”

  “Don’t lie to me, Madame.”

  “I’m not lying. You’re guessing.”

  Stumpff raised an eyebrow, leering. “A little late for wordplay, Madame. I’m getting angry.”

  Geli settled the tempest in her mind with lazy aplomb. “All right. I wouldn’t want you to get angry, Willy.”

  “Then you don’t deny going to Bornichen with Langsdorff.”

  “No. The occasion was his housekeeper’s funeral.”

  “When were you going to tell me?”

  “How could I while you were away?”

  “I’m here, now. So let’s have it.”

  “What?”

  “Don’t play dumb with me. You stayed the night with him. What did he have to say about Helsinki?”

  Geli began to shake her head. “Before he left he’d told me he was going, but never why, except - routine inspections, that was all.”

  “You left it at that?”

  “I had no reason not to.”

  “And after his return?”

  Geli blinked and squinted as she kept on slowly shaking her head. “No, he only said that all went well, but he was glad it was all over. His mind was on Frau Hintz.”

  He stared at her, veins bulging across his forehead. “All went off without a hitch, then, did it?”

  She looked up. “Why, yes.”

  “Did you ask him what he meant by that?”

  “Why?”

  “I’m asking you.”

  “If there’d been some reason to, and it occurred to me to probe, at such a time I couldn’t have or tip my hand.”

  “Yes. Being quite considerate of his grief, of course. I’d really hate to think that you’re holding out on me.”

  “Willy, you’re accusing me of doing something you wanted me to do,” she pouted.

  “Because I think you know more than you’re letting on. You had a golden opportunity, and what did you do? I’m going to ask you one more time, then I may have to hand you over to Obermeyer, which I would also hate to do.”

  Obermeyer’s eyes lit up. “I’ll take her, sir! Let me have her!”

  “Get away from me, Obermeyer! Just stand there and shut up.”

  Obermeyer slunk back, cowering. His eyelids flapped as if to put out his scowl.

  “Now, Madame,” Stumpff said, “Helsinki.”

  Geli sighed, gave him a steady, piercing look. “What about it?” she said.

  Stumpff’s face hardened like a startled death mask cast in lava. “You should ask. Because you haven’t told me, yet.”

  “What good would it do, now, Willy?”

  He stamped his foot. “What in God’s name do you mean?”

  “Everybody’s busy getting out. Nobody’s left to care. It’s every man for himself.”

  “You, too? Don’t be so quick to join the cowardly defeatists. We’ve stopped the enemy in the Ardennes. I’m still here, and so are you.”

  “All right, but you’re not going to like it.”

  “Try me.” Stumpff ran his tongue across a grin.

  “I tried. I used every trick I could, but it was no use. I was afraid to tell you. He’s a closed book, like you said. I don’t see any point in going on.”

  He stared at her. “Say that again.”

  “I’ve had enough, Willy. I want out.”

  “Do you? Just like that. Shall I arrange things for your sendoff? Help you with your bags?”

  “All right, I’ve failed. See if the Gestapo cares.”

  “And leave you high and dry? Like selling out that Tommy you were supposed to love in Cairo. Death does have a way of keeping love from getting out of hand.”

  “God killed Reggie, not me.”

  “Perhaps so. But then God’s never around t
o defend Himself.”

  Obermeyer stepped forward, reaching for his gun. “Herr Captain, let me -”

  “I told you to stay out of this, Obermeyer!”

  Geli stepped between them. “Willy, I’m dying for a cigarette. Don’t make me suffer.”

  “Cigarettes? I left a note for you. Why did you run out on me?” He put his face up close to hers. “Who were those men you were with at St. Anne’s?”

  “I was kidnapped. Obermeyer couldn’t let that happen. He had to be the first to shut me up, then got scared off and left it to them.”

  “But here you are, alive.”

  “Would you rather have me dead? And never know why Obermeyer did away with me?”

  “I don’t know. When you’re dead, you’re dead.”

  Geli shook her head. “That’s what you get for giving him a gun. A crazy little boy who can’t be satisfied with shooting birds. But never mind. Add a gun to loyalty and you get the perfect killer.”

  “Those men who took you to St. Anne’s – what were they to Langsdorff?”

  “That’s right, sir!” Obermeyer shouted. “Make the she-devil tell another lie!”

  Stumpff scowled at Obermeyer hard enough to knock him over.

  Geli reached around behind Stumpff’s ear and twirled a little of his thin greasy hair around her finger. “You still love me, don’t you, Willy? That’s it, isn’t it? You’re jealous.”

  He slapped at her hand viciously. “How dare you! You think you’ve made a fool of me! Thrown me out and made a mockery of – of my boy. You protected him!” he screamed. “And you – you -” He choked back a sob. “Just because I’ve had feelings! Then you took him, too – my son! You tore him down piece by piece until there was nothing left but -”

  “That was the deal, Willy. You knew there was no other way. I did what I had to do, the only way I knew how.”

  “She-devil!” Obermeyer spat. His coat swished and from the rush of movement his hand came up with a gun.

  “Don’t let her do this to you, sir! Let me take care of her. I’m not afraid!”

  “Put that away, Obermeyer. You don’t give the orders around here!”

  Obermeyer kept the gun tight in his hand, eyes flaring insanely, swung it around until it pointed rigidly at Geli.

 

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