The Pathfinder (36 page)

‘A frock? What a charming gift. And very surprising. Quite un-English. Was it a nice frock?'

‘Yes, very nice.'

‘I should like to see it.'

She fetched the frock which she had hung in the cupboard in Dirk's bedroom and held it up in silence. He looked at it consideringly, his head on one side. ‘Charming. You interest me even more, Fräulein.' He reached out to finger the hem. ‘This is a gown that a man would buy for a woman he loved and respected. How he sees her, or wishes to see her. On a pedestal. You may put it away now, thank you.'

When she had sat down again, he said, ‘What else has he given you?'

Don't lie. Tell the truth or he'll catch you out. ‘A tea set.'

‘A tea set? That's even more surprising but, of course, the English drink a lot of tea. What kind of tea set? Did he bring it all the way from England for you?'

‘No, I believe he bought it at Gatow. At something called the Malcolm Club.'

He nodded. ‘Yes, I know of this. May I see this tea set? Or a piece of it.' She brought him one of the cups and he inspected it gravely. ‘Delightful.' He turned the cup over. ‘Spring. I believe the spring in England is quite spectacular. What flower is this, do you know?'

‘It's a primrose.'

‘Is that so? I've never seen one. Very pretty.' He gave the cup back. ‘It's clear to me that Squadron Leader Harrison holds you in the highest regard, Fräulein Leicht. And yet you say that you are not engaged to be married? Isn't that his signet ring that you're wearing?'

Her mind had been so numbed by fear that she had forgotten all about the ring. ‘It belongs to him, yes.'

‘He gave it to you to wear?'

‘For a while.'

‘As a token of his love. There can be no other reason. Did he also ask you to marry him?' She was silent. ‘Fräulein Leicht, I asked you a simple question. Has Squadron Leader Harrison asked you to marry him?'

‘He spoke of marriage.'

‘Of course he did. It would be useless to deny it. The man who gave such a charming gown and so domestic a tea set to any woman undoubtedly has marriage in his mind. Especially a man like your squadron leader. We know something of him, you see. A distinguished war record. DSO, DFC. A member of the legendary Pathfinder Force of No. 8 Group in the Royal Air Force. A man of courage. A man of honour. Also, a man who will have played a considerable part in reducing this city to rubble. Were you aware of that?'

‘Yes. I was aware of it.'

‘But you still welcomed him into your home, and your bed. You've come to terms with it, shall we say?'

‘Yes.'

‘No grudges borne?'

‘No.'

‘You must be in love with him yourself.'

Her instinct was to deny it and yet she dared not do so completely. ‘I find him attractive.'

He stubbed out the cigarette in the tin lid ashtray and took another from the packet, lighting it with a match. She watched him blow out the flame and put the match neatly back in the box. He always replaced it the opposite way from the unused matches. ‘You find him attractive. So, when he asked you to marry him, what did you reply?'

‘I asked for time to think.'

‘How wise. What is the old saying? Marry in haste, repent at leisure. So true. But, of course, you would be very foolish not to accept such an advantageous offer. What an agreeable life you would lead. So comfortable. So secure. Well fed. A loving English husband.' He looked round the room. ‘The contrast could hardly be greater. There is nothing to keep you here. And now that your brother has gone, there is even less. Nobody else left for you to worry about, except yourself. Both your parents, of course, are dead. Your mother in the bombing, your father at the hands of the Nazis. Your father was a staunch opponent of the German National Socialist Party, isn't that so?'

‘He was against Hitler, yes.'

‘Your mother, too?'

‘My mother was a milliner, Herr Silogov. She made beautiful hats. She was not much concerned with politics.'

‘And you?'

‘I was too young.'

‘But old enough to understand a great deal. Surely your father must have preached the evils of fascism to his family. Taught you of the dangers? He had many Communist Party friends in Berlin. You must have known that?'

‘He had many friends of all kinds.'

He drew on the cigarette, watching her. ‘Millions of Russians did not shed their blood in the war in order to have western capitalists step straight into the shoes of the Nazis, Fräulein. I'm certain that your father would not have wanted that to happen either. He would have been on our side, don't you think? He would have been as opposed to capitalist greed as he was to the Nazi creed.'

‘I don't know.'

‘But naturally, he would have been. He was a man of very strong principles. Indeed, he died for them. And so, in helping us, you will be honouring his memory. We had a bargain, you and I, remember? I have kept my side of it and your brother was released. Now, it's your turn to keep yours.'

She swallowed. ‘What do you want me to do?'

‘You will accept Squadron Leader Harrison's offer of marriage, of course – if you have not already done so, which I think you have. And you will tell us everything you learn about the British Royal Air Force in your new life with him. Not from a military point of view – you are unlikely to learn very much about that – but from the human angle. The gossip. Find out who has some weakness, some indiscretion, some guilty secret they would be very anxious to keep dark. Adultery, homosexuality, dishonesty, debt . . . we should like to hear of it.'

She told herself that she had only to pretend to agree with him, that was all. Pretend. Once she had married Michael and got away, there was nothing they could do. Dirk was safe, Rudi and Grandfather were safe. Later, she could tell Michael what they had tried to make her do and he would understand why she had had to agree.

‘I'll try.'

He smiled. ‘You will have to do a little better than that, Fräulein. We're not quite so gullible, you know. You will have to try very hard. Otherwise we shall have to tell Squadron Leader Harrison some unpleasant truths about you. Things that he does not yet know.'

‘What . . . things?'

‘That you were raped by a gang of Russian soldiers after the fall of Berlin. He might forgive you for that – it was hardly your fault – but how will he receive the news that later on you sold yourself willingly to a number of American servicemen, like a common whore? How many was it? Five, six, seven? More? That's quite a tally of men who have had the pleasure of knowing you. What will General Sir Arnold and Lady Harrison think of their new daughter-in-law, I wonder, when that comes to their ears? Most interesting of all, what might it do to the squadron leader's very promising career when all the juicy details leak out about his German wife's past? Of course, if we feel like it, we can also add the edifying snippet that your brother is a drug dealer. He was carrying drugs when he was arrested, you know.'

She had leaped to her feet while he was speaking and he looked up at her coldly. ‘You had better sit down again, Fräulein. There is nowhere for you to go and we have not finished talking yet.'

‘Get your best blue pressed and ready, Tubby. It's all fixed for the day after tomorrow. A civil ceremony. Over and done in a few minutes.'

‘Count on me to be present and correct, dear boy. Have you got a ring?'

‘I bought one in England. And it fits.'

‘Splendid. Any leave?'

‘They're giving me a forty-eight. We'll have a proper honeymoon in England later on. I've found a small apartment not too far away from here. A bit grim but it's clean and weatherproof. After what Lili's been living in I expect it'll seem like a palace to her.'

‘You've got it all worked out. Nothing more to worry about. All's well that ends well.'

Harrison guessed that Tubby still had his own reservations but he was carefully hiding them. He wished he could count on his parents in the same way. Now that his father was out of hospital and on the road to recovery, he had written a letter, telling them that he was marrying Lili Leicht. He would have much preferred to talk to his father about it in person, face to face, but that was impossible. All he could hope was that they would both accept a
fait accompli
and welcome Lili, if not exactly with joy, at least with kindness and understanding.

‘I'm collecting her at Albrecht Strasse tomorrow, with all her gear, such as it is. Thank God, she'll soon be out of that place.'

‘I'll drink to that, dear boy. And make it a double, will you?'

The left-hand door was standing slightly ajar. He pushed the wolf's head gently so that it swung inwards, and stepped into the hallway.

Silence. ‘Lili?' No answer. He took off his cap and went on into the living room. Someone was sitting in the grandfather's chair – not Lili but an emaciated old man dressed in a long overcoat and a black beret covering silver-white hair, gnarled hands resting on the arms. A complete stranger. As Harrison hesitated, the old man spoke in slow but clear English with a heavy German accent.

‘Squadron Leader Harrison? Please allow me to introduce myself. My name is Dr Meier. I am a friend of Fräulein Leicht. I also live in Albrecht Strasse. Forgive me for not standing, but I have not been well.'

He said abruptly, ‘Where is she?'

‘Not here. She asked me to wait here for you. Please sit down, if you will.'

‘No, thank you.' He stared at the old man with foreboding. ‘Why isn't she here? She's expecting me. Is something wrong?'

His questions were ignored. ‘She has asked me to speak to you, on her behalf.'

He said again, more roughly, ‘Where is she?'

‘Not here, I assure you.'

He went to look in the rooms beyond – the one where Dirk had slept and the bathroom. Both were empty. He pulled open a cupboard and found that empty too. Then he went back into the big room. The stranger was still sitting where he had left him.

‘Where's Lili?'

‘I regret that I am not able to tell you.'

He went over to the old man, seized hold of the lapels of his overcoat, and yanked him up out of the chair. It was like lifting a bag of bones. ‘I think you'd better tell me. Damn quickly.'

‘If you will be good enough to release me, I will explain.'

He held on for a moment longer, glaring at him. The old man met his eyes, showing no sign of fear, no emotion other than a calm politeness. What could he do to him, anyway? He let him fall back into the chair. ‘All right. Explain. What's this all about?'

‘Fräulein Leicht has asked me to tell you that she has changed her mind. She does not wish, after all, to marry you.'

He said quietly, ‘I don't believe you. What's happened to her?'

‘Nothing has happened to her. But she has decided that it would be better if you and she were not to marry. She does not think that it would bring happiness, most especially to yourself. If you will remember, she expressed some grave doubts on the subject to you before. For you to marry a German girl, is perhaps not such a good thing.'

‘We've sorted all that out,' he said slowly. ‘Talked it over. There's nothing for her to worry about.'

‘She is not so sure.'

‘What is she not so sure about?'

‘She is afraid the past would come between you.'

‘What do you mean – the past? I don't give a damn about the past.'

‘But Fräulein Leicht does.'

He stared at the old man. ‘Where is she?'

‘I am unable to tell you.'

‘I must speak to her. Talk about all this.'

‘It will not be possible. You must respect and accept her decision.'

‘
Like hell!
' he said furiously. ‘I won't accept it. I want to see her. Talk to her myself.'

‘She will not see you. Never again.' The old man indicated the table. ‘She left the gown you gave her and the English tea set, and also your ring. Please take them, Squadron Leader, and go, like an officer and a gentleman. There is nothing more to be said.'

The brown paper package, neatly retied with its string, lay beside the cardboard box that had held the tea set, also tied with string. His signet ring was on top of the box.

‘Christ almighty . . . Why didn't she tell me herself? Why ask you to do it?'

‘She knew that you would be unwilling to accept the decision. That you would try to change her mind. It's easier for her like this. For both of you.'

‘Did she leave a letter – a note of some kind?'

‘No. Nothing like that.'

He picked up the ring and pushed it back onto his little finger. He said bitterly, ‘Tell her she can keep the rest.'

He passed the place quite by chance as he walked through the streets. His mind was in miserable turmoil and he scarcely noticed where he was going. He'd stopped at a bar and downed several vodkas, overpaid and walked on, turning at random in the vague direction of the Brandenburg Gate. It was almost dark and he knew it was risky to be in the Russian sector but he didn't care.

He noticed the flight of steps going downwards from the pavement. No different from hundreds of others in Berlin leading to foul basements and cellars, except that something about these ones rang a bell and when he shone his torch down it showed an odd-looking door at the bottom, repaired with planks of wood, nailed in a criss-cross fashion so that it resembled a portcullis.
Der Keller.
Nico's seedy dive.