A black car was parked in the driveway of the larger house.
“What will my grandmother think of you, I wonder?” Richter smiled slightly as he slid the gun back into the jacket pocket. Darby hesitated, glancing around as she got out of the car. Richter watched her every move until they were inside the house. No one greeted them. The house was empty except for a few belongings and some furniture covered with sheets. Darby heard a steady swish from somewhere, and Richter motioned her toward the stairway. He followed close behind.
Inside a room at the end of a hallway, a woman stood with her back toward them, sweeping the hardwood floor. Bookcases lined the walls, and a small couch sat covered with a sheet like a punished child left in the corner. French doors opened toward the second-story porch, where the lights from the village below glittered like beacons through the glass.
The woman turned quickly as they entered. With one hand over her heart and the other on the broom handle, she scolded Richter in rapid German. Age had changed Ingrid’s beauty, but not robbed it. She stood with straight posture, holding herself with something of grace or pride. Her hair was pinned up for work, but her clothing was stylish beige slacks and a clean white-and-tan shirt. For an elderly woman, Ingrid would be considered beautiful, and Darby felt a jealous sting that this had been Gunther’s wife for the last fifty-five years. But the lines in Ingrid’s face weren’t from laughter; she seemed unable to smile or to sing.
“Grandma, speak the English you insisted I learn. I have brought my American friend to meet you.”
Darby and Ingrid evaluated one another in silence. Then Ingrid spoke to Richter in a hushed tone in German.
“Her name is Darby. Darby Evans.”
Ingrid put her hand over her mouth and dropped the broom with a loud clatter.
“Darby, meet Ingrid,” Richter said quietly. “Your step-grandmother.”
Ingrid stalked toward Richter, speaking angrily.
“English, remember?” Richter shook his head, then grew annoyed and defensive at Ingrid’s words. “There was nothing else I could do. We were about to lose it all. Darby told me where it is. Gunther told her.”
“You talk with Gunther?” she asked Darby, her voice sounding strained. “Why you bring her here, Richter?”
“I needed supplies on the way to Hallstatt.”
“Hallstatt?” Ingrid said, turning away.
“Yes. Right there, all these years. And we thought it was a simple pilgrimage to his dead wife.”
“It was,” she said bitterly. “Why you come here? Why bring her?”
“Everything will be fine. Darby is coming with me to get the coins and brooch, then we’ll do something. . . .”
“What?” Ingrid asked. “Did you think? What will we do with her?”
“I don’t know.”
Both pairs of eyes glanced her way. They started firing words back and forth in German. Darby searched the lights of the village for a way out.
“I’ll be in the basement, getting supplies,” Richter said.
“Nein. Take her with you.”
“You may want to say some things to her.” Richter stared for a long time at his grandmother, then at Darby. All at once Darby realized she wanted to ask Ingrid a thousand questions and accuse her of even more. “I’ll be downstairs, not far away.”
“Be quick about it, Richter,” Ingrid said, standing tall as if trying to compose herself.
The women listened to Richter’s exit, down the stairs, through a door. Darby walked toward the French doors. She peered at the railing and beyond it, wondering if she could jump the ten or twelve feet to escape. But wouldn’t Ingrid immediately call for Richter? She could easily overpower Ingrid, but what would she do—hit an old woman? No other house was nearby except for Brant’s old, deserted cottage.
Darby opened the doors and stepped onto the wood balcony. She glanced back to see what Ingrid did. The older woman sat on the edge of the couch, her head down in thought. The deck was high, too high, it seemed. She’d get hurt and never be able to run unless she could hide in the darkness somewhere. It may be her only chance.
Ingrid stood in the doorway and flipped on the porch light. The illumination over the older woman’s head brought deep shadows below her eyes. “What did Gunther say?”
Darby leaned back against the railing and faced the woman who’d destroyed her grandmother’s and grandfather’s lives. “I had the letter you wrote Celia telling her that both he and Tatianna were dead.”
Ingrid raised her chin and glared coldly at Darby. “I did what I had to do at that time. Your grandmother was my friend, a long time ago.”
“Your friend?”
“I knew someday this would come. I don’t know how, but I knew. And you could never understand.”
“You’re right, I could never understand.” Darby wanted to tell Ingrid what the lies had done to her grandmother, her mother, and even her own life. But where would she begin? And would it matter?
“It wasn’t my fault. It was the war. You can accuse me, but your grandmother would not have lived without me. She was a mess. I saved her as much as Tatianna did. We all did things we did not expect—war does that. Even Celia. She betrayed Tatianna.”
“What?”
“You know so little but accuse me still.”
“How did Celia betray Tatianna?” Darby’s heart pounded. She’d always had one thought that she feared to consider—that her grandmother escaped by using Tatianna, betraying her. Sure, she knew her grandmother would never do that, but what about in such a treacherous time? Darby paced into a dark corner of the porch. “My grandmother was not a betrayer.”
“She admitted it to me.”
“Tell me.”
“Tatianna and Celia made some pact or vow of friendship as young girls. When Celia’s father was captured by Nazis, Celia was given information that Tatianna was the person who revealed his hiding place. Celia believed it. I believed it too. I became friends with all of them in Salzburg. Tatianna was always reading her Bible and talking about how she served a loving God. She wanted to be a missionary and use music to bring beauty into the lives of the poor. I didn’t believe it until later. The two girls loved each other, as much as Celia and Gunther loved. Then everything began to fall apart. Her father taken, we knew Celia had to hide. The news that Tatianna was the one who told shocked Celia. Celia accused her and left with Gunther. Tatianna was devastated. But later Gunther sent for Tatianna. I volunteered to drive Celia out and Gunther arranged for Hallstatt. When I arrived, it was Celia and Tatianna who were there.”
Darby sat down on the armrest of a wooden chair and glanced up into a diamond sky. At least her grandmother hadn’t actually betrayed Tatianna, but instead their vow of belief.
“Then what?” Darby said it like a challenge, while listening for Richter’s footsteps below. “How did it happen that Tatianna gave her life for my grandmother, and you stole what was left?”
“You make judgment so easily when you not there. I not intend what happened. Your grandmother escaped because I take her. I made difficult choices, and after war, I was in great danger—my children also. Gunther gave safety for me, and I believed he was dead when I wrote Celia that letter. I told myself that Celia rebuilt her life in America. I was sorry to find that she die last autumn.”
“How did you know?”
“She contacted me last year while searching for inheritance.”
“My grandmother called you? Last year?”
“Yes.” Ingrid’s face was shadowed as she looked away from the light.
“Why didn’t you tell her the truth then, when they still had time?”
“After that many years? It was too late. I always thought Gunther knew where the inheritance was but also wondered if somehow Celia got it out of Austria. When she call, I knew for sure that
Gunther must know. Celia say she sick, and I sorry for that. I call once, and your mother give me news of her death.”
“And you never told her about Gunther.” They had been so close. Celia and Gunther could have at least had a few months together. But again, the greed over the Lange inheritance took lives away. Darby felt an almost uncontrollable urge to slap Ingrid. She was shaking, overwhelmed that she could harbor such anger toward another person.
“I need to protect my own,” Ingrid said. “And Celia dying—why then tell her about Gunther, after all the years? I have to do hard things. You not know the choices you make until in the danger. You do not understand.”
“Then make me understand,” Darby said firmly. She may never know if Ingrid didn’t speak now. “What happened the night my grandmother escaped?”
Ingrid breathed into her hands, then wrapped her arms together. “Chaos. The world was in chaos. The plan was to take Celia out, and Gunther would be a decoy at a house in Upper Austria. He would follow later. We pretend it was great adventure—Celia’s escape to America. I get Tatianna and Celia at Hallstatt. We took several days to go through the Alps—we have to take one road, then switch to another. We try to laugh a lot. But inside I know we all sad and afraid.”
Ingrid folded her hands and spoke calmly, but her words took them both back to the last night together. Darby could see the three in their car, speeding toward hope and safety. . . .
The car switched back and forth down the alpine road. Tatianna hummed a tune of the Glenn Miller Band.
“One more mile,” she said with her hand on Celia’s. “I will miss you, my friend.”
“It won’t be forever,” Celia said softly. “We’ll return after the war, or you will both come to America. Never can we be apart.”
“That’s right.” Tatianna spoke with a confidence Ingrid didn’t understand.
The car rounded a bend and slowed. Ingrid knew it to be the last, and then they would be separated from Celia—probably forever. She hated the thought but felt envious all the same. She didn’t have the money to leave, so she’d have to find her own way of survival without anyone’s help. A sign for the coming Swiss border flashed by them.
“Oh, dear God,” Celia said. “Dear God, help us.”
“How could they be here?” Tatianna hit the brakes.
The car lurched forward as Ingrid saw a black car blocking the road, directly in front of the Austrian-Swiss border. Suddenly headlights beamed behind them.
“Where did he come from?” Tatianna held the wheel tightly. “Celia, get in the back, and both of you lie down. I’m going to ram straight through.”
“No, you’ll never make it!” Celia shouted.
“I’ll give it my best.”
“Stop!” Celia grabbed the steering wheel. “This isn’t your fight!”
“Listen to her, Tatianna!” Ingrid said. “We’ll all be killed if you try.”
“Okay, okay.” Tatianna’s voice calmed, and she brought the car to a quick halt.
Celia turned in her seat and looked fearfully at Ingrid and Tatianna. The vehicle behind them stopped. Headlights glared through the window. A man in the front car got out and opened the back door, waiting.
Celia touched her round stomach and closed her eyes for a moment. “I want you both to go home as quickly as possible. I should never have endangered you by allowing you to come—I’m sorry for that.”
Tears filled Ingrid’s eyes. She knew Celia was only being strong. They all knew Celia would not get away. She’d never see Gunther again, would never hold that baby in her arms. Ingrid felt tied with fear for Celia, but with just as much fear for herself. Would they come after her too?
Celia leaned close to Tatianna. “I have to ask one thing first. I’m so sorry, Tati. I didn’t believe in you. After all these years together. I know you so well. I know your heart. But I lost faith anyway. When it counted most, I let you down.”
“Stop,” Tatianna whispered. “It’s all right.”
“No, it’s not. Please. Will you forgive me?”
The girls stared into years of memories.
“I forgive you, my dear one.”
“Thank you.” Celia reached for the door handle. She winked at Ingrid and smiled at both of them. “Hey, remember, the heroine always gets away.”
“Stay inside,” Tatianna ordered, grabbing Celia’s hands. “Listen to me. I love you like a sister, no, more than a sister. I’d do anything for you, and this is the only thing I can give. Ingrid, get up here in the driver’s seat.”
“Tati, you can’t go to them. They simply want me. I won’t endanger your lives any more than I already have.”
“Stay in the car,” Tatianna ordered.
Before Celia could speak or move, Tatianna was out of the car. She motioned to Ingrid and slammed the door. Ingrid climbed over the seat as Tatianna walked forward. Her shape was illuminated in their headlights, making a long shadow across the ground.
“What does she think she can say to them?” Celia asked, putting her hand on the door. “I’m going out there.”
“Stay inside!” Ingrid hissed. “You have your baby to consider. Perhaps she can do something.”
“Like what?”
“I don’t know. Just be silent, or they’ll take us all.”
Celia watched as the man in SS uniform met Tatianna. She took some papers from her coat and handed them to the man. He looked them over and began to move toward the car where Ingrid and Celia waited. Tatianna blocked him, her mouth moving rapidly. Finally, the man in black uniform peered at the car for a long moment, then pointed Tatianna to his vehicle. He slammed the door as she got in.
“What is she doing?” Celia tugged at the papers in her own pocket. “Oh, dear Lord: No! She changed our papers! They think she is me!”
“Celia, don’t you dare get out, or they’ll kill us all!” Ingrid’s terror rose, waiting for guns or men to take them too.
The vehicle behind them moved away. The black car parked before the border crossing pulled backward and slowly passed them. Celia yelled and lunged across the seat as they saw Tatianna. Tatianna waved and motioned for them to go ahead. Then she was gone.
Ingrid looked from her hands in her lap back to Darby’s face. “Your grandmother would not stop crying, but I drove her across border and try to tell her not to worry. The Nazis would discover who Tatianna was and let her go, I say. I do not know if she believe me. Celia made me promise to help Tatianna. I promise, but of course, I could do nothing.”
“Couldn’t, or wouldn’t?” Darby asked.
Ingrid was startled from her faraway thoughts. “I help save your grandmother also. She not make it across the border without me. I took her to contact location. I never see her again.”
“But you heard from her.”
“Yes. During war, she kept making danger for us with her letters. ‘What happened to Tatianna? Her family? Of course, Gunther?’ ”
“So you told her they were all dead.”
“I told truth about Tatianna. I heard nothing of Gunther and believed he was dead. Her letters had to stop. You don’t get letters from America asking about Jews and political prisoners when you live with SS officer—you would be thought a spy and shot. You cannot understand war. I have only myself—not an escape like Celia. People were starving or murdered for nothing.”
“But in the end, we know who was Celia’s real friend.”
Ingrid turned away and, with a start, Darby wondered where Richter was. She also wondered how much time she had left. This was no game, and she was running out of time. Darby hurried to the edge of the deck again and looked down. There could be rocks; it was hard to see in the darkness. She glanced back, but Ingrid watched in silence. She thought Ingrid’s expression said, Go. It’s your one chance.
She was about to ju
mp when she heard a noise. In the dim light, she spotted someone in a chair below. A red glow from a cigarette illuminated his exhalation. Richter was waiting.
Darby yanked Ingrid back into the room and closed the door. “What’s he going to do with me?” Darby implored Ingrid to help her. The door slammed downstairs. Richter was coming.
“No. Richter will not hurt you.” But Ingrid’s eyes moved away.
Perhaps Darby should run back out to the deck and jump. But as she made a move to do so, Richter walked casually into the room.
“Time to go.” Ingrid would not look at him. “Come on, Darby.”
“Leave her here with me,” Ingrid said suddenly. “After you go to Hallstatt, pick me up. We’ll leave her here. It will give us time.”
Richter shook his head. “No. She’s coming with me.”
“Don’t make this worse for us,” Ingrid said, taking a step toward Darby. Her hand lifted, then dropped back to her side.
“Perhaps we’ll come back here in a few hours. But I want you to be in Munich, waiting for me. I’ll take care of everything.”
Richter took Darby’s arm. She glanced back at Ingrid and saw fear in the older woman’s eyes.
Chapter Thirty-Four
A glacial moon shone through icy sheets of clouds as they arrived in the small village—the village Darby loved and where her family had once lived. Richter continued to assure her of her safety, but his words were of little comfort. What could he do with her after he’d retrieved what he wanted?
“The scenic town of Hallstatt,” Richter said. His fingers twisted on the steering wheel. He was close, very close. “Thousands of visitors walking here every year with a fortune beneath their feet.” The car crept into the sleeping village. “To your right, famous Hallstattersee, perfect for diving or sailing. To your left, the Celtic museum where you can see relics from the oldest salt mine in the world. And up the hill in the cemetery, the Lange family treasure, lost, but soon found.”
Darby’s heart sank as they passed Gasthaus Gerringer. One light was on in the entry room, but the rest of the house was dark. They continued through the Marketplatz down to the parking lot below the lower church.
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