The Traitor Blitz

by Johannes Mario Simmel

  Monerov gave him the gun. "I'll pack my things. Be back in a minute," and he ran out of the room.

  I got up and walked over to Jules. "You bastard!" I said. "You're working for the Russians!"

  "Oh... you've caught on! Didn't take you long," said Jules Cassin, raising his gun as I approached. "Stay where you are. Don't think for a moment that I wouldn't put a bullet through you."

  "You—you—" But I stood still. "You were assigned to sound me out for—for that!" I pointed to the microphone in the radio, which was still playing soft music. "You were given the assignment to keep me here—"

  "Clever, clever!" said Jules. "Congratulations!"

  "And Seerose? Who saved your lif e? Or isn't that true either?"

  "Saved my life?" Jules spat and swore in French. "Merdel Repayment, that's all! I got him out of a prisoner-of-war camp in '45. And got him his license. But my family—all of them—died in that damn' war! Bombed. Or in the Resistance. Or in concentration camps. I hate all Germans!"

  "Forever and a day, yes?"

  "Forever and a day—yes!" His face was filled with rage. "You asked me why I was still a waiter at my age. Why I don't have the bar of my own I wanted."

  "Yes."

  "Alors ... I married a German woman. Thought there should be an end to all this hatred. So what did she do, my sweet little German wife? Deceived me! Lied to me! Said I was too old! And then, when I'd saved enough money to buy a bar, she stole it and ran off with another man. An American. Good friends today—the Americans and the French. But not of mine!" His eyes

  were blazing. Tm going to leave this country and find work somewhere else, and I'm never coming back! Never!"

  "I understand."

  Monerov came back with a small suitcase. He had on a hat and coat now, too. "You won't get far," I told him. "You'll be arrested."

  "Oh, no," said Monerov. "In five minutes well have disappeared and nobody will find us." He picked up a heavy candlestick and smashed the telephone with it, and the panel with the buttons to call for the waiter, maid, and valet. He went into the bedroom and bathroom and smashed every means of outside communication. At last he came back.

  Bilka ran up to him. He had been drinking steadily all the time I had been telephoning and by now was out of his mind. He babbled, "My brother, my brother! What will happen to him now? I don't believe you! I don't believe you'll let my brother live if Herr Roland doesn't write his story!"

  "You don't have to," said Monerov.

  "What—what do you mean?"

  "Now that we have Bilka, Herr Roland can do whatever he likes. Write... not write... we don't care. That was only a little precautionary measure, in case we didn't succeed in kidnapping your brother. But we succeeded."

  "So... are you going to kill Jan?"

  "Not yet. We need him to get the rest of the film, in New York."

  "And when he has told you where they are... when you have them, too... what—what will you do with Jan then?"

  "What do you suppose we'll do?"

  Bilka went for him. Jules Cassin struck the drunken man with the butt of his gun, and he sank to the floor, groaning.

  "So," said Monerov. "I'm sorry about having to lock you in here, but I'm sure they'll find you soon. Pound on the door. Shout. All we need is time to get out of the hotel, and that won't take long." He ran out of the suite; Jules Cassin followed him, walking backwards. Then we heard him double-lock the door.

  When they were gone, nobody moved. It was as if all of us had died. And then, very slowly at first but growing louder, we heard the melody of "Reigen" again, coming from the damaged radio.

  At that moment Vaslav Bilka shrieked wildly and staggered across to the French window that led out onto the balcony. It all happened so fast, there was nothing I could do. He tore aside the

  curtain; the glass door behind it was ajar. He opened it wide. I saw him walk out onto the balcony, teeter on the balustrade; then I heard him shout, "J an '" as he let himself fall from my balcony on the fourth floor into the depths below.

  Irina turned her back and buried her face on my shoulder. We could hear Bilka's body landing at the bottom with a sickening thud. Irina's fingers were clutching my jacket like claws. I could feel her nails go through the material, sharp on my skin. And the "Reigen" sounded sad, yet so beautiful—

  Imprimatur

  "She is a traitor ... a traitor—"

  "She is a sinner ... a sinner—"

  "She has betrayed us... betrayed us "

  Voices, loud threatening voices, coming from every side of the dark night in Alster Park, voices Fraulein Louise didn't recognize. Male and female. Yes, female, too. What was going on? What was going to happen to her? She hurried back and forth between the paths, across the wet grass, panting, panic-stricken, holding her umbrella over her head.

  "Disaster... disaster "

  "Misery... more and more misery—"

  "It's her fault... her fault... her fault—"

  "Because she betrayed us... betrayed us—"

  "Because she was arrogant... arrogant—"

  "Corrupt... corrupt "

  "Because she doesn't know love... love... love—"

  "Because she interfered... interfered... interfered—"

  "Who are you?" Fraulein Louise cried. "I don't know you. I never heard your voices beforel Go away! Come to me, my friends!"

  But the dreadful voices only grew louder. They seemed to come from the treetops, from behind every bush. "False friends!" The strident voice of a woman.

  "False friends... false friends "A chorus of men's voices.

  "Revenge!" A male voice, bellowing. Fraulein Louise began to tremble.

  "Retribution!" shouted another.

  "Death!" screeched a woman's voice.

  "Damnation... damnation "

  Fraulein Louise leaned against the trunk of a tree. She was utterly exhausted. Rain and tears were pouring down her face. Her boots sank into the wet grass. Terrified of me, she had left our suite, hurried to the elevator, and gone down to the lobby, her one thought to get away from the hotel.

  Everything had gone wrong. She hadn't found Karel's

  murderer; she hadn't been able to persuade Irina to come with her. She had failed. Failedfailedfailed! The fragile net of faith in her friends, which had prevented her from breaking down for years, was tearing... here—

  She knew that my suite faced the Alster. She wanted to look up at my window and pray, pray that there might still be a miracle and that her friends would help her, at least to bring back Irina. She stumbled through the dark. She looked up at the hotel with its many windows and balconies. Which was my window? My balcony? She didn't know. Most of the curtains were drawn, only a few windows showed light. She stood in the rain, staring up at the facade and was desperate. And that was when she began to hear these strange voices all around her.

  "There she is "

  "It's all over ... all over "

  "Doesn't know what to do... do... do—"

  "They threw her out... out... out—"

  The voices were scornful, malicious, and cruel, cruel, cruel! And they grew worse. They began to berate her, insult her, threaten her. "Liar! Liar!" And as she cried out to her friends, she could hear a new chorus of voices, male and female.

  "We're not your friends... not your friends—"

  "Because you blasphemed... blasphemed—"

  It barely registered with Fr&ulein Louise that these voices were speaking to her in the third and second person. Everything was all mixed up. The systems of thought in her brain collapsed, bit by bit. She began to run across the wet grass to the street. But the voices accompanied her wherever she went.

  "Now she's running... running "

  "Chase her! Chase her!"

  "We're behind you... behind you "

  "See her runrunrun... she's going to fall!"

  Fraulein Louise stumbled over the root of a tree and fell.

  "There she lies—"

  "In the dirt—"

>   "Where she belongs "

  "Get up!" A man's voice.

  Fraulein Louise struggled to her feet and fled on.

  "Now she's fleeing... fleeing—"

  "But we'll get her... get her—"

  "Destroy her... destroy her—"

  And then, a monstrous voice, like thunder from heaven: "Revenge is mine!" 430

  Frfiulein Louise fell on her knees and folded her hands. 'The dear Lord," she whispered, "is speaking to me."

  "No!" screamed a woman's voice. "It isn't the dear Lord! The dear Lord doesn't speak to sinners!"

  Fr&ulein Louise jumped to her feet and hurried on, dragging her umbrella behind her, her heavy bag dangling from her arm, wet through now, and dirty. And then a wonderfully gentle voice said, "God's mercy is everywhere...."

  But there was no respite. Three voices bellowed in unison, "Now we've got her!" ,

  Frfiulein Louise ran as fast as she could to the street with its lights, but the voices were after her. "We shall follow you... follow you "

  "We shall punish you...punish you...."

  "Away! Away from here... back to the moor... the moor... •"

  "It's your fault... your fault—"

  "You interfered in our plans.., our plans...."

  I betrayed my friends, I trusted false friends— Thoughts like this were coursing through Fr&ulein Louise's tortured brain. And the voices continued to torment her, even when she got to Harvestehuder Weg, where there were people and cars and normal voices and sounds. They only served to frighten Fr&ulein Louise even more, because they mingled with the terrifying voices from the park and created an uproar in which she could make out single voices "Now! The time has come—"

  Without realizing what she was doing, she ran across the street. A car just missed her, the driver blowing his horn wildly. The cars, she thought, shaking with fright. They're hunting me with cars. They're signaling with strange lights and their signals are aimed at me. At me—

  The cars drove by, their tires swishing in the rain. Fr&ulein Louise stumbled on, bumped into pedestrians, almost fell, caught herself. And then she heard a voice, a voice she knew: "I shall protect you!"

  It was the voice of the former SS leader Wilhelm Reimers. Involuntarily she raised one arm. A car stopped. "Where do you want to go, lady?" asked a man, leaning out of the car window. A taxi.

  "To—to' the train station," stammered Fr&ulein Louise, opened the back door, and fell into the seat. The taxi drove off.

  In the taxi the misery went on.

  "She thinks she can get away from us!"

  "She'll never get away from us... never—"

  A glass window separated her from the driver. He couldn't hear a thing. "Who are you?" groaned Fraulein Louise. "I don't know you."

  "You know us—"

  "But we don't want you anymore."

  "We're abandoning you... abandoning you—"

  The taxi arrived at the station. Fraulein Louise handed the driver a bill through the opening in the glass and jumped out of the car. "Just a minute! That's much too much!" yelled the driver. But Fraulein Louise didn't hear him. She hurried into the station where she had met the former SS man. A lot of people. Standing around and walking back and forth. A loudspeaker. She only caught a word here and there. "Train... leaves for Bremen... a few minutes... track four—" And there they were again, the dreadful voices! But now they were the voices of the people in the station. Everybody was staring at her, talking about her, calling out to her.

  "There she goes! The old lady—"

  "—who did everything wrong!"

  "—who sinned!"

  Fraulein Louise held one hand over her face, and people finally were staring at her as she ran, as if hunted—dirty, disoriented, her white hair disheveled. She had lost her little hat.

  "Look at her run!"

  "Because she wanted to do everything herself!"

  "Because she betrayed God... betrayed God—"

  "She is an outcast... an outcast—"

  Fraulein Louise had bought a return ticket. Miraculously her crazed eyes and trembling fingers found it in her bag. She handed it to the conductor at the gate and hurried down the stairs. Below her she could see a train coming in. And now she

  could hear voices again, but this time voices she knew ... oh, what bliss! What incredible relief! The voice of the Russian. "Louise... come to us in the moor "

  The voice of the Jehovah's Witness: "Come quickly... quickly... before it is too late!"

  And then again, the strident voice of a woman: "There she is! Running down the steps! Go after her... after her "

  Louise ran down the steps as fast as she could. She was at the end of her strength.

  "She tried to play God... play God—"

  "She must be humbled... humbled—"

  "But you told me yourselves that I should do it!" she screamed, as she finally reached the platform... and people turned around to stare at her.

  The voices answered scornfully, "We didn't ... we didn't "

  "The false ones did that... the false ones—"

  Fr&ulein Louise didn't know how she got on the train to Bremen. Her memory failed her. The next thing she remembered was that the train was moving past many lights, and over bridges and silver-gray water with the rain beating down on it. She came to her senses slowly. The voices, the dreadful voices were silent. For the present.

  A pretty, heavily made-up, rather vulgar young woman in a fur coat was sitting opposite her, watching her curiously. Fraulein Louise looked at her, her eyes still full of fear.

  "Why are you trembling?" asked the pretty young woman in the fur coat. She had a high voice that sounded as if she were astonished; she seemed to be good-natured and simpleminded. "Are you cold?"

  "No," said FrSulein Louise.

  She was exhausted, her feet hurt, she felt like someone who had just had a serious heart attack. These voices... those terrible

  voices At least they were quiet now. But they could come

  back any minute. She shivered.

  "What's the matter?" asked the pretty young woman in the fur coat in her baby voice.

  "Nothing... nothing—" mumbled Fr&ulein Louise.

  "But you're so excited!"

  The train was moving fast now, the lights had been left behind, the rain was beating against the window. Fr&ulein Louise had passed a hand across her forehead and saw that she was dirty. With trembling fingers she opened her heavy bag to find a handkerchief. The pretty woman stared at the bundles of money. She watched Frfiulein Louise clean her face and run a comb through her hair. "Excited?" said Fr&ulein Louise. "Yes. I am excited."

  "But why?"

  "Oh... I've been through a lot. Horrible things. And it's not over yet."

  "What's not over yet?" asked die pretty woman. "By the way, my name is Flaxenberg. Inge Flaxenberg. But everybody calls me Bunny. You don't want to tell me your name?"

  "Oh, yes," said Fr&ulein Louise. "I don't mind. My name is Gottschalk. Louise. Everybody calls me Fr&ulein Louise."

  "So what's not over yet, Fr&ulein Louise?" asked Bunny Flaxenberg.

  "They're after me," Fr&ulein Louise said simply and still somewhat stupefied. "They're pursuing me."

  Bunny half closed her eyes. "The police—right?"

  Fr&ulein Louise didn't answer. Bunny took this to be assent. "The pigs! Just because one's managed to do a little business on the side, right?"

  "I must get to my friends," mumbled Fr&ulein Louise.

  And so each went on talking....

  "They raised us tonight, too," said Bunny. "The bandits!"

  'They'll protect me," murmured Fr&ulein Louise.

  "Came tearing into the casino and behaved like animals," said Bunny. "I worked in a casino. Small place. About thirty kilometers from Hamburg." She gave its name. "Was a dive, but Herr Olbers rebuilt it and arranged for bus service, so people from Hamburg could come. They came in their own cars, too... roulette."

  "If I can just get home... I still have a ch
ance."

  "Just roulette. Everything worked out fine. For two years. I worked at the bar. Made good money. Lived there, too. My

  home is in Zeven. Sometimes I'd go there for a visit. Or my fianc6 came to see me."

  "Once I get there, maybe they'll leave me in peace and my friends will help me," murmured Fraulein Louise.

  "And then the pigs had to cornel Said the game was rigged. Magnets under one table."

  "What?" asked Fraulein Louise, startled suddenly.

  "Magnets. Under the wheel. To manipulate the ball, you understand?"

  "No."

  "Confiscated everything. Arrested Herr Olbers. Closed the casino. The damn' cops. Just because they found a magnet under one wheel. And in spite of the fact that Herr Olbers swore by the life of his mother that he'd known nothing about it. What do you think of that?"

  "They're after me," mumbled Fraulein Louise, who was on the verge of falling asleep from exhaustion.

  "My fiance is meeting me in Bremen with his car. Where are you going?"

  "To Neurode."

  "That's where you have friends?"

  "Yes."

  "You know what—my fianc6 will drive you there. It's no distance from Zeven. And you've got to disappear fast, right?"

  "Yes. Fast." Fraulein Louise was half-asleep.

  "Well, then that's settled. We'll get you there. Must stick together, mustn't we?" said Bunny Flaxenberg. "Against the goddamn' pigs! The other wheel was perfectly all right. Somebody who had it in for Herr Olbers must have installed that magnet. Somebody who wanted to bust him. Some bastard! That's what I told the police. Do you think they believed me? They laughed at me! The business was doing so well, too. Herr Olbers would have been crazy to put in a magnet. But you can't reason with those guys. They're pigs, dumb pigs!"

  She could see that Fraulein Louise's head was dropping forward and that the old woman was asleep. Quietly Bunny Flaxenberg closed Fraulein Louise's bag with all that money in it. "And now I can look for another job," she said. Fraulein Louise heard the words in her sleep. The train was moving fast.