“Yes, why do you come with her?” Emil said.
But Jake didn’t hear him, his mind fixed instead on the hard eyes above Sikorsky’s smile. As long as you like. All night, waiting to hear something Jake didn’t know. Locked up here until he did. Worse than cornered-caught.
“But she leaves,” Jake said, looking directly at Sikorsky.
“Of course. That was the agreement.”
But why believe this either? He saw Lena being bundled onto a train with Emil, while he sat, helpless, in his Adlon cell, making up stories. I lied. They’d never let her go now.
Sikorsky put his finger on Jake’s chest, almost poking it. “A little trust, Mr. Geismar. We’ll give her to your friend. Then we’ll have a brandy. It loosens the tongue. You can tell me all about Lieutenant Tully.”
“Tully? You know Tully?” Emil said.
Before he could answer, there was an abrupt knock on the door, so unexpected that he jumped. Two Russians, chests half covered with medals, started talking to Sikorsky even before they were in the room. For a second Jake thought they’d come for Emil, but their attention was elsewhere, some crisis that involved quick spurts of Russian back and forth, a blur of hands, until Sikorsky, annoyed, waved them to the bedroom door. He glanced at his watch again.
“Excuse me. I’m sorry to miss your explanation,” he said to Jake. “An interesting moment. Frau Brandt, there isn’t much time. I suggest you save the details for later.” He looked at Jake. “Send your husband a letter. Perhaps Mr. Geismar will help you with it.“ He raised his head and barked out something in Russian to the other room, evidently answering a question only he had understood. ”Of course, it’s better like this. The personal touch. But hurry, please. I’ll only be a moment-a small office matter, not so dramatic as yours.“ He turned to go.
“Why should he help you with a letter?” Emil said. “Lena?”
Sikorsky smiled at Jake. “A good starting point,” he said, then crossed over to the bedroom with another burst of Russian, leaving the door open so that the sound of him was still in the room.
Jake looked away from the door, his eyes stopping at the crack in the wall, another collapsing house, suddenly back there again, the creak of joists whistling inside his head. No newsreel cameras waiting outside this time, machine guns, but the same calm panic. Get her out before it comes down. Don’t think, do it.
“Why do you bring her?” Emil said. “What do you have to do with all this?”
“Stop it,” Lena said. “He came to help you. Oh god, and now look. Jake, what are we going to do? They’re going to take him. There isn’t time-”
He could hear the sound of Russian through the open door, low, like the rumbling of the settling wall in Gelferstrasse. He’d just walked out the door. A hero. People saw what they wanted to see. I’ll only be a moment.
“Time for what?” Emil said. “You come here together and-”
“Stop it, stop it,” Lena said, tugging at his sleeve. “You don’t understand. It was for you.”
He did stop, surprised by the force of her hand, so that in the sudden quiet the sound of Russian in the next room seemed louder. Jake glanced again at the crack. One more move. The element of surprise.
“No, keep talking,” Jake said quickly. “Just say anything. It doesn’t matter what, as long as they think we’re talking.” He took off his hat and put it on Emil’s head, lowering the brim, testing it.
“What are you doing? Are you crazy?”
“Maybe. Keep talking. Lena, say something. They need to know you’re here.” He started tearing off his tie. “Come on,” he said to Emil, “strip. Hurry.”
“Oh, Jake-”
“He’s crazy,” Emil said.
“Do you want to get out of here or not?”
“Get out? It’s not possible.”
“Take off the goddamn shirt. What have you got to lose? They’re giving you a one-way ticket to Nordhausen, except this time you’re one of the guys in the tunnel.”
Emil looked at him, amazed. “No. They promised-”
“The Soviets? Don’t be an ass. Lena, help. And say something.”
She looked at him for an instant, too frightened to move, then Jake nudged her toward Emil and she started unbuttoning his shirt. Pale white skin. “Do what he says. Please,” she said. Then, raising her public voice, “You know, Emil, it’s so difficult, all this.” The words dribbled out, a kind of nervous gibberish.
Jake dropped the holster belt on the couch and unzipped his pants. “We’re the same size. Just keep the brim down on the hat. They don’t know me. All they’ll see is the uniform.”
Lena was keeping up a patter, but flagging. Jake stepped out of the trousers. This would be the moment. Caught literally with his pants down.
“Quick, for Christ’s sake.”
“You know about Nordhausen?” Emil said.
“I was there.” He flung the pants at him. “I saw your work.”
Emil said nothing, staring.
“Jake, I can’t do it,” Lena said, struggling with the buckle.
Wordlessly, almost in a trance, Emil unhitched it and dropped his pants.
