better be in Argentina, because that's where we're both headed. Him for obvious reasons. And me because Eric Gruen--the real Eric Gruen--has framed me to look like him. Him and your friend Jacobs. And now I can't afford to take the risk of staying here Germany anymore. Not now that this has happened. Understand?'
He bit his lip and nodded.
I finished dressing. I helped myself to Shlomo's shoulder holster and buttoned the Colt into it. Then I searched the big man's pockets, taking money, cigarettes, and a lighter. 'Where are the car keys?' I asked.
Aaron put his hand into his pocket and tossed them to me, covered in blood. 'It's parked all the way down the drive,' he said.
'I'm taking your car and I'm taking your boss's gun. So don't try to follow me. I'm pretty handy with this thing. Next time I see you I'm liable to finish the job.' I lit two cigarettes, put one in Aaron's mouth and one in my own, and started down the hill toward the house.
'Gunther,' he said. I turned. He was sitting up, but looking very pale. 'For what it's worth,' he said, 'I believe you.'
'Thanks.' I stayed put for a moment. There was more blood coming from his leg than I had imagined there would be. If he stayed there he would bleed or freeze to death.
'Can you walk?'
'I don't think so.'
I got him onto his feet and helped him back down to the house. There I found some sheets and started fixing a tourniquet around his leg. 'I'm sorry about your two friends,' I said. 'I didn't want to kill them. But I had no choice. It was them or me, I'm afraid.'
'Zvi was okay,' he said. 'But Shlomo was a bit of a head case. It was Shlomo who strangled those two women. He wanted to kill every Nazi that ever existed, I think.'
'Can't say as I blame him, really,' I said, finishing off the bandage. 'There are too many Nazis still walking around as free as air. Only I'm not one of them, see? Gruen and Henkell murdered my wife.'
'Who is Henkell?'
'Another Nazi doctor. But it would take too long to explain. I have to get after them. You see, Aaron, I'm going to do your job for you, if I can. I'm probably too late. I'll probably end up getting killed myself. But I've got to try. Because that's what you do when someone murders your wife in cold blood. Even though it was finished between us, she was still my wife and that has to count for something. Doesn't it?' I wiped my face with the remainder of the sheet and went to the door, pausing only to check the phone. It was dead.
'The phone isn't working,' I said. 'I'll try to call an ambulance for you when I get a chance. All right?'
'Thanks,' he said. 'And good luck, Gunther. I hope you find them.'
I went outside, walked down the drive, and found the car. There was a warm-looking leather coat in the back. I put it on and sat in the driver's seat. The car was a black Mercury sedan. The fuel tank was almost full. With its five-liter engine it was a good, fast car with a top speed of over a hundred kilometers an hour. Which was approximately the speed I was going to have to do if I was going to make Rhein-Main before midnight.
I drove back via the lab in Garmisch-Partenkirchen. Jacobs had cleared out the filing cabinets. But I wasn't interested in the files. Instead I went back down to the cellar to collect a couple of the packages and paperwork that were--I hoped--going to gain my entry to the U.S. airbase. It wasn't much of a plan. But I remembered something Timmermann, the
After telephoning to get an ambulance for Aaron, I drove west and north toward Frankfurt. It was a city I knew little about except that it was five hundred kilometers away and full of Amis. The Amis seemed to like Frankfurt even more than they liked Garmisch. And Frankfurt liked the Amis. Who could blame them? The Amis had brought jobs and money, and the city--once seen to be of little importance--now had the reputation of being one of the most affluent places in the Federal Republic. Rhein-Main Air Base, just a few miles south of Frankfurt, was America's principal European air transport terminal. It was from Rhein-Main that the city of Berlin had been kept supplied during the famous 'Operation Vittles' airlift from June 1948 to September 1949. Without the airlift, Berlin would have become just another city in the Russian Zone. Because of Rhein-Main's strategic importance, all roads to and from Frankfurt had been very quickly repaired after the war, and were the best in Germany. And I made good progress as far as Stuttgart, when the fog came down, a real sea of mist that had me cursing at the top of my voice like a human foghorn, until I remembered that planes couldn't fly in fog. Then I almost cheered. With fog like that there were was still half a chance that I could make it in time. But what was I going to do when I got there? I had the forty-five automatic of course, but my appetite for shooting people had diminished a little after what had happened at Monch. Besides, shooting four, possibly five people in cold blood had only limited appeal. And even before I had reached the airbase just after midnight, I had already concluded I could not shoot the two women. For the others I would just have to hope they wanted to make a fight of it. I tried to banish all such considerations from my mind as I pulled the car up outside the main gatehouse to the airport. I switched off the engine, collected my paperwork, straightened my tie, and walked toward the security guard. I hoped that my English would be equal to the lie I had been rehearsing during the course of my six-hour journey.
The guard looked too warm and well fed to be alert. He wore a green gabardine coat, a beret, a muffler, and thick green woolen gloves. He was blond and blue-eyed and about six feet tall. The name plate on his coat read 'Schwarz,' and for a moment, I thought he was in the wrong army. He looked more German than I did. But his spoken German was about as good as my spoken English.
'I have some urgent package for a Major Jonathan Jacobs,' I said. 'He was scheduled to fly out to the States at midnight tonight. To Langley Air Force Base, in Virginia. The major is stationed in Garmisch-Partenkirchen and the packages arrived for him after he had already left to catch his plane.'
'You've driven all the way from Garmisch?' The guard looked surprised. And he was looking closely at my face. I remembered the hammer blow I had received from Shlomo. 'In this fog?'
I nodded. 'That's right. I ran off the road a while ago. Which is how I got this bruise on my head. Lucky it wasn't worse, really.'
'That's one hell of a drive.'
'Sure,' I said modestly. 'But take a look at this paperwork. And these packages. It's all really urgent stuff. Medical supplies. And I promised the major that if they arrived after he had left, then at least I would make an attempt to make sure they caught up with him.' I smiled nervously. 'Perhaps you could check if that flight has taken off yet?'
'Don't need to. Nothing's flying tonight,' said Schwarz. 'Even the birds are grounded. On account of this damned fog. Been like this since late this afternoon. You're in luck. You've got plenty of time to catch your major. Nothing's going out of here until the morning.' But he carried on checking through his paperwork anyway. Then he said, 'Looks like there are only four supernumeraries on that Langley flight.'
'Supernumeraries?'
'Nonmilitary passengers.'
'Dr. Braun and his wife, and Dr. Hoffmann and his wife,' I said. 'Right?'
'That's right,' said the guard. 'Your Major Jacobs escorted them through here about five or six hours ago.'
'If they're not flying tonight,' I asked, 'where would they be now?'
Schwarz pointed across the airfield. 'You can't see it now because of the fog. But if you drive down there and bear left you'll see a five-story airport building. With the words 'Rhein-Main' down one side. Behind is a small hotel attached to the main air force barracks. Which is probably where you'll find your major right now. Happens a lot with that midnight flight to Langley. On account of the fog. Yes, sir, I expect they're all tucked up for the night. As snug as a bug in a rug.'
'As snug as a bug in a rug.' I repeated the phrase with a kind of fascination for the dexterity of the English language. And then a grim fascination with an idea that suddenly came to me. 'Yes, I see. Well, I'd better not disturb him, had I? He might be asleep. Perhaps you could direct me to the cargo bay for that flight. I'll leave the package there.'
'Next to the barracks. Can't miss it. All the lights are on.'
'Thanks,' I said, heading back to my car. 'Oh, and by the way. I'm from Berlin originally. Thanks for what you did there. The airlift? As a matter of fact, that's half the reason I bothered to drive all the way here tonight.
