Nights in Berlin
Page 18
“But you were running a racket. What sort of information would you have had?”
He thought for a moment. “Your friend Belinda—my friend Arek—hid in plain sight as a transvestite.”
“He was a transvestite dancer.”
“That’s right, and a very good one, too. It was a role he enjoyed, but he was also a patriot and a soldier and a spy. What was more important, eh? The big hats or cozy tête-à-têtes with German officers?” My French uncle looked away for a moment. “He was betrayed by one of us. That is very painful for me.”
I nodded. That I did believe.
“What is so surprising about my activities? We are not one person, Francis, and we are not to be defined by what we wear or whom we fuck or the scam of the moment. Find what’s important to you and hang on to it, and don’t listen to any old men who want to send you over the top.” With this, he waved to the waiter, paid the check, and left a generous tip. This time, he must be onto something good.
“I won’t see you again,” he said as we left the dining car. Then he stopped, legs braced against the sway, and, Gallic-style, kissed me on both cheeks. “Bonne chance, mon ami,” he said and strode away down the corridor.
You will not guess, I wrote to Nan when I returned to my compartment, whom I have just seen. And who treated me to a meal: He Who Cannot Be Named! Yes! I can only tell you that he is French now and off on some new scheme. I thought I was furious with him, because you know what a pickle he put me in, but you were right: Travel is an education and Berlin was certainly eye-opening. I have to thank He Who Cannot Be Named for that.
What did I learn? That there are lots of people like me. And a whole world of pictures and designs to explore. Most of all, I learned that—Father’s opinion notwithstanding—I’m a person of value who knows useful things, including some learned from the most unlikely people.
So there it is, Nan. I’m ready for Paris, the art center of the whole world. I’m going to learn good French and how to design wonderful things, and I’ll discover a way to make a living for us both.
Love,
Francis
About the Author
Janice Law is an acclaimed author of mystery fiction. The Watergate scandal inspired her to write her first novel, The Big Payoff, which introduced Anna Peters, a street-smart young woman who blackmails her boss, a corrupt oil executive. The novel was a success, winning an Edgar nomination, and Law went on to write eight more in the series. Law has written historical mysteries, standalone suspense, and, most recently, the Francis Bacon Mysteries, which include The Prisoner of the Riviera, winner of the 2013 Lambda Literary Gay Mystery Award. She lives and writes in Connecticut.
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This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, events, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, businesses, companies, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
Copyright © 2016 by Janice Law
Cover design by Mauricio Díaz
978-1-5040-2614-7
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