by JJ Toner
They hit a built-up area with houses along the lake shore obstructing the view of the lake. A lakeside market added to Max’s woes. The taxi had to slow to a crawl as he weaved past obstructing horses and carts. Max bit his tongue.
Clearing the market and the lakeside housing, Max had an interrupted view of the lake again. Edmund was closer than he expected.
The boat slowed and drew in toward the near shore. It stopped 10 meters from the bank. Edmund dropped his anchor.
The taxi man drew up at the quayside directly opposite the boat. “This is a close as I can get, sir.”
Max thanked him, paid him in Reischsmarks, and got out of the car.
Below him a row of boats bobbed in the water at their moorings: Five motorboats, two with their owners tying up for the night, and several rowboats.
Max approached the owner of the first motorboat and asked if he could take him onto the lake. The man appeared not to hear him. Either that or he was stone deaf. Max tried the second motorboat owner.
“Sorry, friend, I’m done for the day. Come back tomorrow and I’ll be happy to take you out.”
Max jumped into a rowboat, cast off, and headed out toward the red motorboat. Little more than a ripple disturbed the surface of the lake. The only sound the creaking of Max’s oars in the rowlocks.
He drew alongside the motorboat. Edmund was in the wheelhouse, his back turned, bending over the doll. Max secured the rowboat to a cleat and climbed aboard the motorboat. His weight rocking the boat alerted Edmund to his presence immediately.
Edmund turned, the doll in one giant paw. He stuck out his chest. “Come on then,” he shouted. “I’m waiting.”
Max stood facing Edmund, his feet planted apart. “Drop the doll, Edmund and step away.”
Edmund laughed. He tossed Aschenputtel behind him and stepped out of the wheelhouse. “You’re going to have to come and get it.”
Max took a step forward. They tussled, Edmund attempting to grab ahold of his younger adversary. Max kept Edmund off balance by rocking the boat from side to side. He increased the rocking motion until Edmund fell over. Then Max slipped past into the wheelhouse and grabbed Aschenputtel. The cameo brooch was still attached to the doll’s clothing. Edmund threw himself at Max, but Max slipped under the big man and retreated to the stern. Edmund advanced again. Using his bulk to hold Max in place he grabbed the doll with one hand and began to push Max backward over the edge with the other.
Max swung a fist that bounced off Edmund’s chest. The big man showed no sign that he’d even noticed the blow. He locked a hand around Max’s throat. Max was instantly paralyzed by the pain, struggling to breathe. They were both now clinging to the doll, Max’s eyes smarting from the pain, neither one prepared to let go.
Edmund laughed. “I’m going to have to crush your windpipe, little man. If I had two hands free I could show you how I break necks.”
Waves of pain swept over Max. He felt the heat of the outboard engine on his back as Edmund exerted more and more downward pressure. He had seconds to act. He knew if he didn’t do something quickly he would be choked to death or fried on the hot engine cowling. He did the only thing he could do. He twisted his body sideways, rocking the boat and unbalancing Edmund, pulling the doll sharply downward at the same time. Edmund toppled forward, losing his grip on Max’s neck. Max tugged Aschenputtel free and tossed her over Edmund’s back toward the wheelhouse.
Max got to his feet and placed himself between the big man and the doll. Edmund shouted something unintelligible. Lowering his head, he charged at Max like a bull. Max sidestepped, but Edmund’s left arm caught him and they crashed down together. Max’s head fell on the doll. Edmund was not so lucky. He hit his head on the gunwale. He struggled to his feet dazed, swinging a couple of wild blows that met nothing but air. Max picked up the doll and Edmund came at him again, wrapping an arm around his shoulders.
Max held the doll out over the side of the boat. Edmund stretched for it, but he couldn’t reach. He leaned out some more. Max dropped, twisting his body and throwing himself backwards. As he fell, he kicked out with his right leg, catching Edmund in the groin.
Edmund sailed over Max, executed a somersault worthy of an Olympic gymnast, and hit the water with a resounding splash.
Max tossed a floatation device into the water for Edmund before starting the motorboat engine and returning to the Storchen Hotel to reunite Aschenputtel with Sophie.
Chapter 100
December 1940
Jürgen’s claim that he slept with Anna preyed on Max’s nerves. He suspected that it was true, that it was Jürgen who told her the name of the murdered priest. But he never confronted Anna with the accusation. He reasoned that whichever way she replied, whether she denied it or admitted it, their marriage would suffer.
The work of the Red Orchestra continued apace in Berlin. The circulation list for their monthly broadsheets grew. Arvid’s spare Hectograph was taken out of its hiding place and put into production.
The NKVD set up a radio transmitter in Zurich to replace Gilbert’s in Brussels. Harro Schulze-Boysen continued to expand his network of spies in the ministries, and the Red Orchestra continued to pass intelligence reports to Moscow through the Russian embassy or via the transmitter in Switzerland.
Ule was the center of Greta’s life. Now nearly three years old, and eating like a horse, he was growing fast. His language skills were encouraging, too, and she planned to start teaching him to read on his third birthday.
She had heard nothing from Max or Anna, and she often wondered if they made it to safety, if they’d found work and a place to live, if Sophie had found a measure of happiness. And whether the 9-year-old was still clinging to her doll.
Then one day in December 1940, she received a letter postmarked Zug, in Switzerland.
Dear Frau Greta,
I am uncertain that this letter will reach you. I hope it does. Are you and Adam well? And little Ule, is he still growing!? We are now settled in Switzerland. We moved from Zurich to another town where they speak German. Life’s no gymkhana, but Max has found work. He’s paid quite well, despite being an Ausländer. Living on one income is proving difficult, but we’ll manage until the baby is born.
I should have mentioned that earlier, I suppose. Yes, I am expecting a baby in January. Sophie’s hoping for a baby sister. Max says he doesn’t mind what it is, but I suspect he secretly wants a boy.
Remember Aschenputtel’s cameo brooch? We took it to an antiques expert here, and he identified it. It was once owned by the Grand Duchess Tatiana Nikolaevna Romanova, one of the daughters of Tsar Nicholas of Russia. It’s worth A LOT of money. But, of course, Sophie says Aschenputtel doesn’t want to sell it. It was the last gift her mama and papa gave her. Max has persuaded her to put it into a bank deposit box for safekeeping.
Max says the war should be over by Easter. Let’s hope he’s right. If he is we’ll come and visit you with the new baby, maybe in the summer. In the meantime, look after yourselves.
If you get a chance to visit Switzerland, the manager of the Storchen Hotel in Zurich has our address.
All our love,
Anna, Max, Sophie and Aschenputtel.
THE END
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AUTHOR’S NOTE
This is a work of fiction. However, several of the members of the Red Orchestra featured in the book were real people: Adam, Greta (and baby Ule) Kuckhoff, Arvid and Mildred Harnack, Harro and Libertas Schulze-Boysen, Annie Krauss, and Dr. Himpel. I have included these people in order to respect their actions, their bravery in the face of implacable evil, and the personal sacrifices that many of them made. They were all heroes of the German Resistance. In order to incorporate these real people in the book, I have had to imagine and invent scenes and dialog and some
of the events have been moved around in time for storytelling purposes.
There were many more people involved in these resistance activities, of course. I couldn’t include them all. If you are interested in reading the history of this group, I recommend The Red Orchestra by Anne Nelson, Random House 2009, ISBN 9781400060009
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
Thanks to all my proofreaders, Bonnie Toews, Lara Zielinski, Lesley Lodge, Paul T. Lynch, and Pam Toner. A special thank you to Marion Kummerow, who took time from the launch of her own book about the Red Orchestra, Unrelenting, to proofread the book from a German perspective. I am indebted to Stephen Walker for an inspired cover design and to Janet for editing the book.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
JJ Toner lives in Ireland. He writes short stories and novels. JJ Toner’s website