The Gypsy Moon (27 page)

****

“You look tired, my dear. Here, let me take your coat.” Liza Burke took Dalton’s coat and hung it on the rack in
the foyer and then put her arms around him and kissed him. “You look absolutely exhausted. You’re working too hard.”

“I suppose so. I am tired.”

She took his arm and led him toward the kitchen. She fussed over him, sitting him down and putting a slice of his favorite cake—chocolate—in front of him, along with a cup brimming with black coffee. It was a ceremony they repeated each day when he came home from work.

He took a bite of the cake. “Very good, as always. No one makes cake like you, my dear.”

“You do remember that we have tickets to the opera tonight?”

Dalton stuffed his mouth full of cake and talked around it. “It will have to be a German opera,” he said moodily. He was getting heavier as the years went by, and strain had begun to etch lines in a face that had once been round and smooth.

“I’m afraid so, but you do need to get out. It will be good to relax. You spend too many hours concentrating on your work.”

“Oh, by the way, where is the letter from Gabrielle you told me about over the phone this afternoon?”

She took the letter out of the pocket of her apron and sat down across from him, watching his face as he read.

“Her letters aren’t very informative,” he said when he had finished. “She speaks only of her work and a little about our old friends and neighbors.”

“Why do they censor her letters?” Liza pointed to the parts of the letter that had been blotted out by heavy black ink. “Someone feels that what she says would be dangerous to the war, I suppose.”

“What foolishness! What could Gabby know that would influence the war? I would love to see her, Liza. I miss her so much.”

“Can’t we go home for a visit, Dalton? I’m so lonesome for the sight of our home or for a tulip or a windmill—and especially for Gabby.”

“I have asked, but they say my work is too important to leave right now. And if I finish sooner, Goebbels has promised a great reward from the führer.”

She watched as he finished off the cake and washed it down with a long swallow of coffee. “What exactly are you working on, dear? Of course I wouldn’t understand it, but . . .”

“It is a matter of atomic physics. There’s a secret to be discovered that would give the world unlimited power. Can you imagine what would happen in undeveloped countries if they had an unlimited and inexpensive source of power for houses? It would give them a whole new economy.”

“I’m not at all sure that would be good. It seems every time an industrialized nation goes into an undeveloped country, that country is ruined.”

“Progress, my dear. Progress. It would keep them from starving.”

Liza was puzzled, for she knew Adolf Hitler was not interested in developing poor countries. He was interested in conquering the world. She didn’t voice her confusion but asked, “Are you content, Dalton? With your life here, I mean?”

He swirled the coffee in his cup while he appeared to contemplate the question. “I long for the old days, Liza. Everything then was so simple.”

“Let’s not go out tonight. Let’s stay home. We’ll listen to
Carmen
on the gramophone. But first I’ll cook you a good Dutch dinner. What would you like most? Anything you can name.”

“Really? Let’s have
erwtensoep
and
rolpens.
”

****

The dinner was excellent, for Liza was a fine cook. After she put the dishes in the sink, they relaxed in the living room while they listened to
Carmen.
When the last strain sounded, Liza took the needle off the record and said, “Are you ready for bed?”

“One more piece of chocolate cake.”

“You’re going to be as fat as Saint Nicholas if you keep eating so much.”

“Then you shouldn’t be such a good cook.”

They had their late-night snack and went to bed.

He was tired, but Dalton was too troubled to sleep for some time. He could not get the visit of Joseph Goebbels out of his mind, and the letter from Gabby had saddened him. It reminded him of his home, and more and more of late, he had been longing for the peace of Holland. He knew it would be different now that the country was occupied by an enemy power, but still he missed their old house and the walks along the canals. And he missed his mother more than he ever intimated to Liza. He wondered how she was doing and missed the godly wisdom she often shared with him.

After tossing and turning for some time, he finally drifted into a fitful sleep. It was one of those nights in which he was more wakeful than usual.

He came out of sleep when a voice sounded close by. He opened his eyes with alarm, and fright ran through him as he saw a shadowy figure standing beside his bed. “What do you want?” he cried out and felt Liza shift and murmur faintly. “Do not harm my wife!” he pleaded. “Take anything you want, but do not harm my wife!”

“I don’t mean to harm either of you.”

Dalton struggled to sit up in the bed and put his arm around Liza, who had done the same. “What do you want? What are you doing here?”

A flashlight suddenly threw a cone of light onto the face of a man who stood beside the bed. He was a frightening figure, but his voice was calm. “I’m sorry to frighten you, but I’m an English agent. I’ve come to bring you a letter from Gabrielle Winslow.”

The words brought instant comfort, for at least this man was not a burglar. Dalton cast the cover back and threw the switch on the light beside his bed. The tall man dressed in black was pulling something from his pocket. Dalton could
not focus clearly for a moment, and he put on his robe and slippers while Liza did the same. “How did you get in here?” he asked.

“It’s sort of a specialty of mine.”

Liza fastened her robe. “What do you want?” she asked. Her face was pale, and her voice was unsteady. She clearly did not trust the stranger. He showed no sign of having a weapon, but she knew he must have one. “What did you say about Gabrielle?”

Dai Bando took no pleasure in frightening two older people, but he had not been able to come up with a better plan to talk with them. He had been dropped into Germany and made a connection with his contact. The groundwork had been done, and he had found it amazingly simple to get into the house the Germans had provided for the Burkes. There was one guard, but he went off duty at midnight. Dai kept his voice calm as he said, “I’ve spent the last month in Oudekerk aan de Amstel, and I’ve gotten to know your niece very well.”

“What is your name?”

“Dailon Bando.”

A wave of reassurance came over both Liza and Dalton, for Gabby had mentioned this name more than once in her letters. She had simply said that he worked at the hospital there, but at least there was some familiarity.

“And you have a letter from her?” Dalton asked.

“Yes. Here it is.”

Dalton took the letter and found his glasses on his bedside table. “Let’s read it together, Liza.”

She moved around the bed and kept her eyes fixed on the letter as he unfolded it.

“After you read the letter I’ll tell you more about myself,” Bando said quietly. He watched their faces as they read silently, clearly horrified by what they read. Gabby had shown Dai the letter and insisted that he read it. It told of the fate of the Goldmans, who had been sent to a concentration camp.

Dalton’s hand began to tremble, and he sat down on the bed, hands over his face, and began to weep. Liza sat down beside him and put her arm around him, but she was weeping also. Dai silently waited while the two shared their grief.

Finally, Dalton looked up with tears streaming down his face. “This can’t be true! The Goldmans are like our own family.” He embraced his wife tightly. “Is it true, sir? Were they sent to a concentration camp?”

“I’m afraid it is true.”

“What will happen to them?” Dalton whispered. “We are told that the camps are not bad, but I have difficulty believing that.”

“I’m sorry to confirm your fears, but they are slaughter-houses. Men, women, and children are being killed and buried in mass graves. We have hard evidence of this.”

Dalton’s body shook as he sobbed. He realized at that moment that he had deliberately refused to face the facts. He remembered how Liza had tried to speak to him of the terrible things that were happening under Nazi rule, but he would not listen.

Liza looked up. Her arm was around her husband as she studied the face of the man who waited quietly. She knew nothing about him, but there was strength in his countenance and even compassion. “We knew some of this, Mr. Bando. Not so much about the camps, but about the slaughter of civilians by the German army.”

She turned to her husband and wiped tears from his cheeks with her fingers. “We should never have come to Germany, Dalton,” she said quietly. “These are not our people.”

“Can we continue this conversation elsewhere?” Dai asked. “You might be more comfortable if you were dressed.”

“Give us a few minutes, and then I’ll come down and make some coffee,” Liza said. “Why don’t you wait for us in the kitchen?”

Twenty minutes later the three of them were sipping coffee in the kitchen while Dai told the couple about what was
happening in the Netherlands. He painted a picture in bald terms of Germany’s actions. “Your people are risking their lives every hour—and Gabby is one of them. I don’t think she would mind if you knew she’s working for the underground.”

The two gasped. “Do you mean . . .” Dalton started.

“Yes. She and a small group of friends are helping Jews get out of the country.”

“If she is captured, will she be shot?” Dalton whispered.

“Yes, she will,” Dai said bluntly.

Dalton stiffened. “I will not stay in this place! Liza, we must return to Holland.”

“Thank God!” Liza said. Her voice shook with emotion, and tears ran down her face. “But they will never let you go.”

“Take us back with you, Mr. Bando,” Dalton implored.

“I’m afraid that’s not possible,” Dai said regretfully. “It’s a minor miracle that I got in here, and it will be another one if I get back.”

“But we can’t stay here,” Dalton insisted.

“No, my whole mission is to get you away.” Bando leaned forward, his eyes bright, and he spoke quickly. “You must deceive the Germans. Go to work tomorrow. Pretend that nothing has happened.”

“I don’t know if I can do that,” Dalton said, shaking his head.

“You must do it, sir! There is no way that I can organize a party to kidnap you. We would never get out of Germany.”

“What will we do, then? We can’t stay in this place until the war ends!”

“You must find a reason for going back to Holland. I’ll help you with it. It will have to be a strong reason, but it’s the only way.” Bando encouraged the pair, who looked at him with trust. “We’ll find a way. And when the opportunity comes, you must insist on going. Refuse to work until they let you go. The Germans will send you under strong guard, but once we get you into Holland, we will see that you escape their evil clutches.”

As they continued to talk, Liza asked the man about Gabby’s work at the hospital. She saw something change in his face when he said Gabby’s name, and Liza realized that there was more between this man and her niece than he was telling.

Finally Bando rose. “I must go. Somehow, God will get you out of this place. In the meanwhile we will do what we can.”

“Thank you for coming, Mr. Bando,” Dalton said. “We realize it was extremely risky for you to deliver your message to us, and we appreciate it.”

“I was happy to do it, Mr. and Mrs. Burke.”

When the door closed behind him, Dalton said, “I’m afraid I’ve ruined our lives, my dear.”

“No, you haven’t. God will take us from here safely.”

As they clung to each other, he said, “I like that man, but he seems very hard.”

“He has to be, I’m sure, to be involved in the kind of work he does, but did you hear his voice change when he spoke of Gabby? I think he’s in love with her.”

Dalton pulled away from their embrace. “How could you possibly know that?”

She patted his cheek. “Women have ways,” she said with a smile. “Men are a little dense sometimes.”

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

No More Worries

“Congratulations on your promotion, sir.”

General Flynn shrugged off Major Ian Castleton’s warm words. “More weight on my shoulders, that’s all.”

The two men were meeting in Castleton’s office, talking about the war, which was not going well for the British. The only bright spot of the year had been the evacuation of 340,000 Allied troops from Dunkirk, but German troops had overrun Paris, and German planes continued to attack the Royal Air Force over England. The Battle of Britain was taking place at this moment, with the Luftwaffe dumping tons of explosives on Britain, killing thousands. For a time the two men spoke glumly, and then Castleton said, “One bit of good news, sir.”

“Oh, what’s that?”

“Regarding Operation Jonah. I think we may safely say that Dalton Burke will defect—if he gets a chance.”

“What does that mean?” Flynn asked.

“It means they’re guarding him like we guard our crown jewels.”

“No doubt. What can we do now?”

“We’re looking for a plausible excuse for the Burkes to go back to Holland. Once we get them there, we’ll smuggle them out of the country and into England.”

“Is it possible? Does Bando want more backup?”

“No, sir. He says the fewer in on this mission, the less chance for failure.”

General Flynn dropped his head and was silent for a long moment. When he looked up, his eyes were quizzical. “Are you a praying man?”

“Well, after a fashion.”

“That about describes me, and we’re going to need God’s help to do the impossible. The Nazis don’t want to lose Burke. I have a feeling that if we can pull this off, it’ll do more to win the war than anything else we’ll touch.”

****

Betje had been living with Gabby for a week. A fire had broken out in her apartment building, and the smoke damage had been considerable. The arrangement was working out fine. The two had been friends long enough that they knew each other’s habits, and being together made it much easier for the cell to meet.