Merensky cleared his throat and gripped the arms of his chair. “Then perhaps, young man, you’d be kind enough to tell us why someone should wish to discredit you in our eyes?”
“Richard, have you done anything in the Reich you shouldn’t have?” asked Wunsch.
What was the matter with them? “Of course not. I’m far too busy. Bernard, you of all people ought to know that. Look, I honestly don’t know why anyone should want to do this.”
“Perhaps,” breathed Isaac Hond, letting the word fall softly as he glanced from one to the other of them.
It was Lietermann who interceded. “Richard, is there something we should know? Have the Nazis …”
Hagen hoped his look of concern would suffice. “They know we’re thinking of moving the Antwerp stocks to London. Don’t ask me how they found out. I certainly didn’t tell them, but the Krupp asked me of it and he questioned me on alternate sources.”
“Should the Reich find itself cut off again without a ready supply of industrial diamonds,” interjected Merensky, studying the cigar he’d taken out. He let his words hang in the air, knowing they would drive the others to remember the Great War and the blockade.
Then he said bitterly, “Damn the Nazis, Jacob. What the devil are they up to?”
A big man, with pallid jowls, Merensky clenched his fist and broke the cigar.
“Abraham, please. Your blood pressure,” cautioned Lietermann. “Some coffee, Bernard?”
“Something a little stronger for me,” snorted Merensky. “A cognac, young man.” He snapped his fingers. “I know full well Bernard keeps a bottle in that cupboard.”
It was Hond who, not looking at any of them, said, “So, I have told you this already, Jacob. Me, I have said the Nazis would find out about our wish to move the diamond stocks to London. They have their spies everywhere—the break-in here, the theft—yes, we must call it that—of Mijnheer Hagen’s file is evidence enough. Now they will try to scuttle our plans. Our businesses will be ruined.”
“Isaac, please. It’s not a disaster yet,” cautioned Lietermann. “Richard, I take it the Gestapo paid some attention to you this time?”
Unsettled by the question, Hagen said warily, “Yes … yes, that’s true. Normally I’ve been given a fairly free rein. We send the Reich Ministry of the Interior my itinerary. The Germans then check it out and—”
“The German security services,” interjected Isaac Hond.
“Yes, the Gestapo, the Sicherheitsdienst—the Abwehr, for all I know,” countered Hagen. “Someone checks the itinerary and the ministry provides me with the necessary letter of approval.”
“Someone checks you out, Mijnheer Hagen,” said Merensky. “Please, we’re not fools.”
Hond replenished his coffee, pausing as he did so. “But this time the Gestapo kept an eye on you?”
Again Hagen found himself having to say, “Yes … yes, that’s correct.”
Hond jabbed at him with the sugar spoon. “So why, please, should someone want to discredit you in our eyes?”
“In all honesty I don’t know, sir.”
“Oh come now, young man. Come now,” interjected Merensky.
“Richard, you won’t have seen the newspapers yet,” said Bernard anxiously. “That Brussels rag the Nazis own has slapped a photograph of you and Heydrich on its front page. The handshake of goodwill.”
Betrayal was in Bernard’s dark brown eyes.
“They’re trying to suggest to us that not only are you not to be trusted, Richard, but that you are one of them.”
This had come from Lietermann but all of them were the accusers.
Hagen ran a weary hand over his brow, pushing aside the boyish hank of hair. “I’m just a salesman, gentlemen. I’m not one of them. How could I be? I’m one of you and I always will be.”
It was Isaac Hond the worrier who quietly said, “You’ve done amazingly well with them, Mijnheer Hagen. This latest request of the Krupp’s only serves to emphasize their continued faith. So, what are we to think when we see you saying ‘Heil Hitler’ to the head of the Sicherheitsdienst, the Secret Service of the SS!”
“That he’s a very difficult adversary for us to have to face, and that for some reason—one we may never know—he’s decided to make a point of meeting me and of letting everyone—not just yourselves, gentlemen—know of it. Incidentally, I didn’t say ‘Heil Hitler.’ I said ‘Heil,’ as I always do when forced into that particular corner. I also didn’t know my picture was being taken.”
At a curt nod from Merensky, Wunsch reluctantly opened a drawer and took out the two little books he had found in Richard’s flat. For a moment he ran his fingers uncertainly over them. Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland and Through the Looking Glass. Things were at such an impasse he regretted ever having questioned Richard’s possession of the little books.
Yet he had to say it. “Richard, there is a very obvious reason why Heydrich should take such a personal interest in you. Could it be that he feels the German Military Intelligence Service are not doing their job? We are all aware of the fact that men such as yourself must have Abwehr clearance, though it’s never admitted by them. The matter of moving our diamonds to London would, I assume, also be a matter for the Abwehr, not the Sicherheitsdienst?”
“I don’t know, Bernard. Your guess is as good as mine.”
“No, it isn’t, Richard. Yours is infinitely better.”
He couldn’t waver. “I’m sorry, Bernard, but I simply don’t know what you mean.”
Wunsch felt the little books again. “Several of the poems are marked. Though it’s not common knowledge, I myself have some experience in these matters. Such things are used for secret communications. Are you gathering military-industrial intelligence for the British, the Americans or both?”
Hagen looked sadly at each of them. He wanted to confide in them but couldn’t.
“I wondered why that broken passage from ‘The Walrus and the Carpenter’ had been included in your cable, Bernard. Gentlemen, I can appreciate your concern, but those books were read to me as a boy by my mother. We had to travel light while prospecting. Even in base camp, where my mother and I usually stayed, things were pretty primitive. As a very young boy I came to love those little books, that’s all. That’s why I have copies of them.”
“These are not typical of something that has been knocked about in the jungle, Richard. There are no mildew stains. The termites haven’t been at them,” said Wunsch.
“Of course they’re not mildewed. My mother found those for me in a secondhand shop and sent them on as a birthday gift.”
“But there is no inscription!” exclaimed Bernard, being fussy. Damnably fussy.
“She wouldn’t have written one. Ever since she left my father we’ve not got on. Gentlemen, please try to understand that my actions have always been honorable and will continue to be. When this happened—” he held up his left hand “—it was the last straw in a marriage that had been steadily deteriorating. When I was well enough to travel, my mother refused to let me stay with my father and took me from him to the United States. I loved my father very dearly. To understand this, you have only to appreciate that he gave me adventures no other boy could ever have had and that he treated me always as an equal. If she had stayed with him, he’d be alive today.”
“Still hunting for diamonds,” said Merensky dryly.
“Yes. He knew parts of the Congo like the back of his hand. He was in on the discovery of Tshikapa, in on that of Mbuji-Mayi, though others got the credit.”
“And the profits.” This came from Lietermann of all people.
“Yes. I admit he felt badly about some things, also that the Diamond Corporation has been trying to make it up to me ever since.”
“Then you hold no ill will toward Sir Ernest?” asked Hond. Suspicion still.
Hagen met his gaze. “Why should I? Sir Ernest has always been more than kind to me.”
Hond was persistent. “And you’ve no thoughts of forming
your own mining and prospecting company—of striking out on your own and being a rebel like your father?”
So that was it. They were afraid Heydrich had tried to bribe him into working for the Nazis. “None at the moment, mijnheer. I’m still learning. As for the dream, don’t all of us have one? A realist would say it’s crazy, my father, that it was essential—that the farther off, the better, so long as there was the dream to keep us going. I love prospecting. It’s always been a part of me, and always will be, but for now I’m entirely content to be working for Bernard and yourselves.”
It was Lietermann who, seizing the moment, said, “Richard, please give us your thoughts on what is happening in the Reich. Let us have the benefit of your travels.”
Hagen talked for nearly an hour, at times earnestly, at times with a sadness whose depth of sincerity could not be misunderstood. Somehow they had to realize time was of the essence, that no matter what the opposition, everything had to be done to clear the way for transferring the diamond stocks to London.
“All their industries are working at capacity. It’s awesome. It’s the greatest war machine the world has ever seen.”
For several minutes there was silence. Merensky stared at the crumbs of his broken cigar; Bernard fiddled with the knot in his tie.
Isaac Hond sought solace in the carpet.
Jacob Lietermann was again their spokesman. “Richard, you must be exhausted. Indeed, if you will forgive my saying so, you don’t look well. But if you could spare us another hour? Sir Ernest has cabled a request that you pay him a visit in London. We must decide on this and other matters. Please, you do understand? Perhaps you could visit briefly with de Heer Levinski and his wife. They’ll want the news of their daughter I’m sure you bear. Then, on your return, we will not keep you waiting any longer.”
Lev and his wife took the news of Rachel and her husband for what it was, an honest appraisal. Hagen said that he was sorry he couldn’t have been more helpful. “But I may have a lead on one or two things. I’ve asked them to apply to Brazil, and I’ve told them I’ll lend them sufficient money.”
Lev was grateful but still he had to say, “If they can get out in time.”
Hagen knew he had to give them further hope. “There’s another avenue. Let me explore it a little more on my next trip. If it looks like we can get them out that way, I’ll let you know the moment they’re here. The problem then will be in keeping them in this country.”
“And the Committee?” asked Lev.
He shrugged. “I’m on trial. The whole thing’s a mess.”
“Don’t worry. Those guys know what’s what, Richard. That Lietermann—” Lev touched his temple “—he’s smart. They might suspect you of espionage, but this will only make them think you have the ear of important people in London. Even I, a poor diamond cutter, have figured this out, haven’t I, Anna?”
His wife gave him an uncertain smile. Lev patted her hand and beamed. “Because of this, you’re all the more valuable to them.”
Hagen couldn’t bring himself to tell them that Krantz had followed him to Rachel’s house. “How’s Arlette?”
Lev told him that she had left their employ and why she had done so. “It’s not often a girl feels that way toward a man. If I were you …” He looked away. “Bernard, he feels the same as I do. We both think … well, of course, it’s none of our business.”
When Hagen returned to the office, Lietermann told him that the Committee had unanimously decided to publicly dismiss the charges against him as false and to give him all the support he needed.
“Now you must go to London for us as soon as you can, Richard. Try to convince Sir Ernest, of the urgency of our request. Tell him about the guns and airplanes. Tell him about the Gestapo and the apparent interest of Reinhard Heydrich.”
Tell him.
“And what will I tell the Krupp about his request for a year’s supply?”
“That you cannot possibly get so many together at one time without disrupting the market, but that you will see what you can do.”
Sunlight sparkled on the waves off Ostend. As the sailboat came about, Arlette drew in the cool salt air and said, “It’s so good, Willi. Just to feel free like this. Why didn’t you tell me the Vega was such a boat?”
De Menten laughed. “You’re surprised? You really like her?”
“Oh, I do. She’s perfect. Such a job. But are you really sure the varnish is dry?”
“Of course it is. I’m sorry you had to wait so long.”
Stretching his lanky legs across the well of the boat, de Menten hunkered down out of the wind and folded his hands behind his head. He was glad now that he had kept her waiting.
Arlette felt the 5.5-meter yacht beneath her hand. She lifted her eyes momentarily to the masthead. The bow went up. Spray glistened in the sun.
She knew Willi was studying her. He was the son of a butcher and she had known him nearly all her life. He was thin, wore wire-rimmed eyeglasses, had red hair, freckles, was overly serious at times, overly rambunctious and fun-loving at other times. An awkward boy in the guise of a young man of twenty-six. Sometimes she thought he would never grow up. At other times he seemed ancient. He had a temper, too.
The sun had burned the pale skin over the bridge of his nose and under his sea-green eyes. It had bleached the long lashes, and she wondered how many times he had had the boat out and not said a thing of it to her?
Willi had bought the Vega from an estate auction and had worked on her all winter in his spare time. The brass fittings shone. The sails were new; he had sewn them himself.
Yes, he was very capable with his hands. She’d have to give him that. He wasn’t handsome. He was gangling, and what started off badly with the short red thatch, the protruding ears, narrow face and long neck only continued down to the big feet that were death on the dance floor.
She was pleased he had fixed the boat so beautifully and had kept it as such a surprise. She was flattered, secretly warmed inside, and men—most men—were not handsome anyway.
But she didn’t love him, not in the way she …
“That’s a new bathing suit, isn’t it?”
She drew in her tummy, hauling on the mainsheet a bit. “Yes. Do you like it?” She wished he’d leave well enough alone, was nervous now.
Goose pimples had risen on the tan she had acquired since coming home for the holidays.
“You know I like it. Especially the front and the back!”
Arlette let go of the tiller and dropped her eyes to her front, threw her hands up to the straps, then watched in dismay as the boom swung toward them.
Petrified, she couldn’t seem to move. Her breasts must have shown. She hadn’t tied the straps tight enough! She knew she hadn’t!
De Menten leaped for the tiller and the mainsheet. The boom swung back. The sail flapped mercilessly, then snapped taut as it refilled.
Coloring quickly, Arlette found him very close to her. Their knees were touching. One bare leg rubbed against her own. “I’m sorry. I should have done better but it … it wasn’t nice of you to tease me like that. You’re always teasing, Willi.”
She was so embarrassed, so afraid of his scrutiny. He kissed her then. The kiss was awkward and not very satisfactory. They might get better, but she had the uncomfortable feeling they never would.
“Don’t you like me, Arlette?”
She dropped her eyes, was crying now. “Of course I do.”
“It’s him, isn’t it? That guy at the place where you used to work?”
“It is not! I just want to have some fun. I want to sail.”
He let her take the tiller again. He said he was sorry, but she could tell that he didn’t mean it.
“What’ll you do now that you’ve left Dillingham’s?”
“Look for another job. In Liege, I think,” she said with punishing severity. “My cousin says there might be something for me at the Browning factory.”
“From diamonds to guns, that’s quite a change.�
�� Liege … it was so far away. “Arlette …”
She tightened up on the sail, gave the jib a passing glance, then examined all the rigging. “Yes, what is it?”
She was afraid.
“What would you say to staying here? My father …he might be willing to let me take over more of the business. We’re doing well with the hotels this season. We’ve got two men working for us now. One of them could take over the deliveries.”
“I thought you didn’t like working for him? I thought you were sick of driving that van?”
“I am. But there’s something else, something really big. Arthur Lund, down at the garage, says he could use me. I’m good with cars, good at fixing engines. In a year or so I’ll have my mechanic’s papers. Maybe then we could …”
There were crowds of people on the beach in front of the hotels and guest houses that lined the promenade. Some huddled in the lee of their bathing tents, others sat in deck chairs behind striped bits of awning.
As they came abreast of the pier, one of the tour boats sounded its whistle while the other one came in to dock. Soon it would be time for the afternoon ferry from England.
“Willi, I need some time. Please. Just a little. I must find myself another job, yes? I can’t expect my parents to keep me.”
“Your father says you’re needed in the shop.”
“He always says that. He’s said it since I was a little girl.”
“Your mother wants us to get married. She’s been talking with my mother.”
“Yes, I know. But there’s lots of time. Let’s just enjoy ourselves. Let’s not spoil things.”
“I didn’t think I was.”
“Oh, now you’re hurt! All I want is a little time. I need to find myself, Willi. I need to be on my own for a while.”
When hunger got the better of them, they made peace with each other and headed up the coast to where the beach was not so crowded and the ragged dunes were piled.
Marram grass seesawed in the wind.
Hagen watched their approach. Beyond the sailboat, almost due west of him, he could just make out the chalk-white cliffs of Dover.
The Alice Factor Page 10