Comes a Horseman

by Anne Barwell

  So they were in the area. Reiniger nodded, taking care not to show his true emotions. At last! He’d waited so long to finally renew his acquaintance with at least one of their prey. “That’s interesting,” he said. “Send men out to search the area immediately.”

  “I’ve already done that.” Gerstle nodded his approval of Reiniger’s order. He gestured toward the still half-open office door. “Beutel, please enter.”

  Reiniger eyed the Leutnant with interest. He was a younger man, yet had already begun working his way up the ranks. Whatever he had to say for himself might be the turning point in his career—small incidents had the ability to either make or destroy a man’s future, depending on how his decisions were perceived by a superior.

  The Leutnant saluted and stood to attention. He stared straight ahead.

  Reiniger sighed. While he appreciated men who followed the chain of command and knew their place, it did sometimes become tiresome when they had to be prodded to impart information. “You may speak, Leutnant Beutel. Hauptmann Gerstle tells me you might have a lead as to the whereabouts of the men we’re seeking.”

  “Yes, sir.” Beutel cleared his throat. “I was making a routine check of the outlying farms in the area when my questioning of one of the locals was interrupted by a man claiming to be an undercover agent.”

  “I see.” Reiniger smiled thinly. “So you were questioning a local farmer?”

  “No, sir.” Beutel paled. “I was questioning his daughter, sir. I thought she might have information that could be beneficial.”

  “I see,” Reiniger said again. He studied Beutel more closely. He was not only young, but a man a woman might give a second glance. “One must pursue any useful leads, don’t you think?”

  “Yes, sir.” Beutel frowned, and seemed to relax just a little. A slight smirk crossed his face, although it disappeared quickly.

  Reiniger suspected Beutel had done rather more than just question this girl. However, if his behavior led to the apprehension of at least one of the fugitives, Reiniger didn’t care what the man had done. “Please continue, Leutnant. What did this man look like?”

  “About my height, sir. He had blue eyes and brown hair, and he spoke with a Berlin accent.” Beutel paused for a moment as though remembering. “He didn’t give his name, but he threatened me, sir. Said if I revealed he was in the area, he would make up a ridiculous story and claim I’d attacked the girl.”

  “Ridiculous,” Reiniger said. Did this idiot really believe Reiniger hadn’t worked out what had really happened?

  While the description wasn’t that helpful, Reiniger couldn’t afford to dismiss it. After all, Bryant spoke German with a Berlin accent, and the description fit. However, as there were many Germans who came from Berlin, it didn’t necessarily mean this was Bryant. It would be like Bryant to risk breaking cover in order to save a peasant’s daughter, though. He’d been very upset about the death of his friend at the Kaffeehaus.

  It was a long shot, but one he couldn’t afford to ignore. If the man in question was really an undercover agent, a quick conversation would dismiss him as a suspect. If not, he would be persuaded to help with their enquiries. Reiniger’s orders were not just to bring in Lehrer and those working with him. He was also tasked with tracking down Resistance cells in the area. The only way to discourage foolish Frenchmen from such things was to make an example of those who kept insisting they could free their country.

  “Esser,” Reiniger said, “accompany Beutel back to this farm and arrest anyone found on the premises.”

  “The farmer and his family will be there,” Esser said. “It is after curfew.”

  Reiniger struggled not to roll his eyes. “I believe I said anyone, Oberscharführer. That includes them. Obviously they are not undercover German agents as this man claimed to be, but they might have information about him that will be useful.”

  “Yes, sir.” Esser saluted and left the room, Beutel following him.

  “Do you really think it’s a good idea to arrest a local farmer?” Gerstle asked. “We haven’t had a lot of trouble here because we leave them alone, for the most part.”

  “If they’ve been helping fugitives of the Third Reich, they’re already in trouble, Herr Gerstle.” Reiniger felt the familiar thud above his eye again. Why did he continuously need to deal with these men who insisted on treating their enemies with respect they did not deserve? “Actually….” Reiniger pondered for a moment. “Send men out to knock on doors. I want four arrests. Men, women, or children. I really don’t care who.”

  Given the time of day, everyone would be home. If anyone was caught breaking the curfew, Reiniger wanted a word with them, anyway.

  “Herr Reiniger, I don’t—”

  “I am here as a representative of Standartenführer Holm’s,” Reiniger said, “and have been told to use whatever means I think necessary to complete my mission.” He reached for the telephone. “However, your protest is noted. I will contact the Standartenführer immediately and confirm his approval of this course of action.”

  “I’m sure that isn’t necessary, Herr Reiniger,” Gerstle said hurriedly. He’d backed down on something else earlier with the reminder that Reiniger was Holm’s representative for this mission. “After all, it is not as though it will come to anything, will it?”

  “Of course not,” Reiniger said. He replaced the telephone receiver on its cradle.

  If they found their prey, it wouldn’t come to anything at all.

  KEN LOOKED up at the sound of footsteps on the stairs. Not just footsteps but someone running. He reached for his gun and edged toward the door. As it opened, he grabbed the man who nearly fell through it and hauled him to his feet.

  “Jacques, what’s wrong?” Matt stepped forward. Ken let go of Jacques with an apologetic look, hoping he hadn’t been too rough on the old man.

  “Vous devez partir!” Jacques glanced fearfully through the open door behind him.

  “Bloody hell,” Liang swore softly. “Now what?” He and Sébastien exchanged a worried look.

  “You need to leave,” Jacques said, this time in German. He bent over, his hands on his knees. When he spoke again, it was more clearly but no less insistent. “Leave. Now. There is no time to waste.”

  “Marcel, check downstairs.” Matt gave Ken an order. “Find out what that noise was.”

  “That was my family leaving,” Jacques told them. “I’ve sent Jeannine and Germaine to my brother-in-law’s. I’ve just had word that there are German soldiers heading this way. They are under orders to arrest anyone found here. It is better to risk being arrested for breaking curfew than to be here when the soldiers arrive.”

  Ken stopped, already halfway out the door, but didn’t put his gun away.

  “If we’re leaving, you’re coming with us,” Matt told Jacques. Ken dived back into the room, grabbed his bag and Matt’s, and handed Matt his coat. He gave Matt a quick glance.

  Was this because of what Matt had interrupted yesterday? Even if it was, he would not chastise Matt because of it. The soldier’s behavior had been unacceptable. If Matt hadn’t stepped in, Ken would have.

  “Alexandre, Sébastien, go now. We’ll be right behind you,” Matt said. They’d already organized a meeting place at a safe distance away in case their current location was compromised.

  To Ken’s surprise, Liang hesitated. “You’re not going to do something foolish,” he said to Matt. It wasn’t a question. “Now isn’t the time to play hero.”

  “Don’t worry,” Ken said grimly. “I’ll make sure he doesn’t, but whatever happens, stay out of sight. If we’re not there in an hour, head for the next safe house.”

  “Good luck,” Liang said. “See you soon.” He and Sébastien disappeared down the stairs.

  Matt shouldered his duffel bag. “You’re coming with us,” he told Jacques. “If your family are at your brother-in-law’s, you should join them there.”

  “No.” Jacques shook off Matt’s hand. “Hauptmann Gerstle is a
reasonable man. I will tell his men no one is here and give you time to get away.”

  If Gerstle was so reasonable, why had Jacques sent his family away?

  “Does he usually send his men out after curfew to arrest people?” Matt put Ken’s thoughts into words. Something might have happened for Gerstle to feel the need to authorize this kind of search. From what Jacques had told them of the man, he didn’t tend to waste his resources on anything he didn’t deem necessary.

  Jacques shrugged. A shadow crossed his face but was quickly replaced by a determined look.

  “What aren’t you telling us?” Ken asked. There had to be something, or Jacques wouldn’t have sent his family away.

  “I’ll be fine,” Jacques said. “You’re wasting the advantage I’m trying to give you. Go join your friends. I am going to make some tea. It is what one does when home alone for the evening, oui?”

  “Jacques….” Matt gave Ken a look. Help.

  “We need to go.” Ken grabbed Matt’s arm and steered him toward the door. He’d seen Jacques’s stubborn look on other men. They wouldn’t be able to change his mind. Not only that, but he suspected Jacques would see it as an insult if they tried. “Jacques is right. If he comes with us, there’s a good chance we’ll all be caught.” He lowered his voice. “You’d do the same if you were him.”

  “Ken….” Matt’s voice was dangerously low.

  “Thank you,” Ken told Jacques. He didn’t wait to hear what Matt was going to say next but shoved him out of the room. “Don’t play the hero,” he said. “You saved his daughter. Let him return the favor.”

  They both froze at the knock at the front door. “Open up,” someone yelled in German.

  Matt turned around, pushed past Ken, and headed back up the stairs. If there were soldiers at the front door, they’d hardly leave the back unguarded. “The roof,” Matt hissed. “It’s the only way.”

  “I’m coming,” Jacques called. He placed a brief hand on Matt’s shoulder when they passed on the stairs. “Good luck,” he said quietly before raising his voice again. “I’m coming!”

  Once they were through the door, Ken closed it behind him. Matt strode over to the window and opened it. He adjusted his bag on his shoulder. Luckily they’d split the supplies between them. Leaving their bags for the soldiers to find wasn’t an option.

  Ken peered out the window. Sébastien had underestimated the distance when he’d said it wasn’t far to the lower part of the roof. “It’s a good few feet,” Ken muttered. He looked down and wished he hadn’t. Ken had never been fond of heights, but he usually just gritted his teeth and got on with it.

  “It’s not too high,” Matt said quietly. “I’ll go first, and you can follow me instead of looking down.”

  “I’ll be fine,” Ken said, but he stood back to let Matt go first. Better that one of them got away, and he’d prefer it was Matt.

  Matt swung one leg out the window and looked one way, then the other before edging out onto the roof. The moon was out, so they had some light to guide them. Instead of standing, he stayed in a crouch. “Crawl,” he whispered.

  Not only would it be easier that way, given the pitch of that part of the roof, but they’d be less likely to be seen. Ken didn’t bother to reply, but climbed out the window. He felt himself sway and quickly dropped to a crouch. If he followed Matt, he’d be all right.

  Only a few feet. Only a few feet and they could get down.

  Matt crawled forward slowly but steadily. Ken could hear voices below them. Jacques sounded angry. A loud bang nearly made Ken lose his balance, but he kept shuffling forward. The noise had been a door slamming. The soldiers were searching the house. It wouldn’t be long before they found the loft and the open window.

  Damn it. Ken wished he’d thought to shut it behind them. “Hurry up,” he hissed.

  Matt ignored him and held up one hand while he waited for Ken to catch up. “Nearly there,” he whispered in Ken’s ear. “There’s a drainpipe about a foot ahead of us. Follow me and do what I do.”

  Ken nodded. He watched Matt straighten when he got to the drainpipe and begin climbing down. Ken took a deep breath and followed him. The few feet down seemed a lot longer. When he finally felt the ground under him, he realized he was shaking. Matt put his arms around Ken to hold him steady, pulling them both down so they were out of sight. Ken smiled and brushed his lips against Matt’s briefly, knowing Matt would understand it meant he was fine.

  Voices came closer as the soldiers passed by their hiding place with their prisoner.

  “I told you my family is not here,” Jacques said. “They are staying with relatives for the night. We do not have anyone else living here.”

  “Then you will not mind answering a few questions, Monsieur Dubois,” a familiar voice said.

  Ken frowned. Matt nodded. He’d recognized the voice too. It was the Oberscharführer who had pulled their truck over outside Bétheny.

  “I will cooperate in any way I can, Oberscharführer Esser,” Jacques said. He’d lost his anger, and there was a strained quality to his voice Ken hadn’t heard before. “We do not want any trouble. Hauptmann Gerstle—”

  Another man interrupted the conversation. It was the Leutnant Matt had spoken to the day before. “Hauptmann Gerstle is not in charge of this operation,” he said. “We are reporting to Obersturmführer Reiniger. I’m sure he’ll be very pleased that you wish to cooperate.”

  REINIGER GLANCED up as the prisoner was dragged into the room. He feigned disinterest and wrote a few more notes on the paper in front of him before putting down his pen. “I hear you’re not being very cooperative.” He checked the name in his notes. “Monsieur Dubois.”

  “I have told you everything I know.” Jacques Dubois lifted his bruised face and met Reiniger’s gaze directly.

  “Of course you have,” Reiniger murmured. “I know we both want the same thing… Jacques.” Holm had told him that if a prisoner was not forthcoming with information, to try another method. Politeness and pretending to care often got results violence did not.

  Beutel took a step toward the prisoner, but Reiniger shook his head. Beutel had done a good job with his interrogation. One of Jacques’s eyes was half-closed, and he winced when he moved one arm. Reiniger suspected there were other not so obvious injuries elsewhere on the man’s body. It was shame he was so stubborn. He reminded Reiniger of another prisoner they’d once had. One he wanted to get his hands on again.

  “Beutel, leave us for a moment.” Reiniger wondered if having Beutel help with the interrogation had been a good decision. After all, the man had been accused of attacking Jacques’s daughter.

  “Yes, sir.” Beutel saluted and left the room. He’d wait outside the door, as previously arranged.

  Reiniger smiled. “I apologize for the Leutnant’s behavior. It must have also been very upsetting for you to hear about his supposed… altercation with your daughter.”

  “I only found out about it late yesterday,” Jacques said. “Thank you for your apology. I’m sure he won’t—”

  “You misunderstand me.” Reiniger pushed back his chair but didn’t stand. “I was apologizing for his behavior in interrogating you.” He waved his hand. “I have no proof that he did anything to your daughter, and he claims he only questioned her. Perhaps I should arrange for your daughter to be brought in so she can testify on her own behalf?”

  “There’s no need for that,” Jacques said. “I’m sure it is something best forgotten, oui?”

  “Oh, no, I insist.” Reiniger paused for effect. He rather enjoyed seeing the growing panic on Jacques’s face. “However,” he said thoughtfully, “I do believe there was another witness to the incident. An undercover German officer. If we can find him, we won’t have to investigate further, will we?”

  Jacques shifted slightly. It appeared he thought the suggestion might have some merit, although not enough for him to answer.

  “Oh come, now.” Reiniger stood and walked around the desk so he was less
than a meter from Jacques. “While I am disappointed that you do not hold your fellow villagers in high regard, I really thought you might cooperate to save your daughter’s reputation.”

  Jacques’s eyes widened. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  Reiniger tsk-tsked. “Didn’t Beutel tell you?” he said, glancing at his watch. “If I don’t find this so-called German officer and the men with him before curfew this evening, four people will be executed in their place. I’m looking for four men. If I can’t find them, these poor innocents will just have to pay the price.”

  “He didn’t tell me.” Jacques’s voice shook.

  “Oh yes. That’s right. They would have been arrested around the same time you were.” Reiniger sighed. “Unfortunately no one has come forward with any information, so it appears these poor people are going to lose their lives in a couple of hours. I feel sorry for them, giving up so much for traitors they don’t even know. It’s a shame this war has come to this, isn’t it?” He walked around Jacques. The man needed to be taught to reply when spoken to. “Isn’t it?”

  “I can’t help you,” Jacques said. “Sir.” He held his head high.

  Reiniger sighed again. He really hated these people and their principles. What was it about their need to protect others? Reiniger had never seen the point of it.

  Oh well, he’d tried to follow Holm’s advice. It wasn’t his fault it hadn’t worked.

  He grabbed Jacques’s injured arm and twisted it behind his back. “Oh, I’m sure you can,” he hissed in Jacques’s ear. “You might not give up these men for your friends, but I’m sure you will for your daughter. After all, someone with her reputation might be considered easy prey for men wanting a good time. If she encouraged one officer, she will encourage others.”

  “Please,” Jacques said, “she’s only sixteen. She’s still a child. You can’t.”