'Or they get bumped off,' Esther said.
Susanna wished she hadn't put it like that, not because she was wrong but because she was right.Or they get bumped off. That had always been the Reich 's answer for everything-and, judging by the past seventy years, a very effective answer it was, too.
VI
Heinrich Gimpel kissed Lise, grabbed his attache case, and headed out the door. It was a fine, bright summer morning, the sun already high in the sky. The orbiting weather platforms predicted that this heat wave would last for the rest of the week. A heat wave in Berlin would have been nothing in Algiers, or even in Rome, but it was better than the week of rain and mist that could come even in the middle of July.
Volkswagens and the occasional Mercedes zoomed past Heinrich as he stood at the corner and waited for the commuter bus. He'd never seen much point to owning a motorcar. To him, they were just swank, and more expensive than they were worth. With the buses and trains, you could get anywhere you needed to go.
As if to prove as much, the commuter bus pulled up a minute later. He got on, fed his account card into the slot, reclaimed it, and found a seat. A few stops later, Willi Dorsch got on, too. He plopped himself down beside Heinrich with a grunted,'Guten Morgen.'
'Guten Morgen,'Heinrich said.'Wie geht's?'
'Well, I'll tell you, it could be better,' Willi answered. 'How's it going with you?'
'I'm doing all right.' Heinrich couldn't tell Willi how worried he was about the Kleins. That would have required too much in the way of explanation. But he could sound sympathetic when he asked, 'What now?'
Unlike him, Willi wasn't inclined to suffer in silence. When Willi felt wronged, the whole world heard about it. And so, all the way to the train station, Heinrich got a blow-by-blow account of his friend's latest tiff with his wife: who'd said what, who'd thrown what, and how Willi had had to sleep on the sofa in the front room. 'Why is it,' Willi asked, 'that when you have a row with your woman, you're always the one who sleeps on the couch? She stays in bed and she stays comfortable. My back is killing me.'
'I don't know. I never really thought about it,' Heinrich said. Except when Lise was in the hospital after giving birth to one of their girls, the two of them had never slept apart.
'I never thought about it, either, not till this morning,' Willi said. 'Erika acts like it's a law of nature-she isn't happy, so I have to go somewhere else. You call that fair? Do you?'
The bus came up to Stahnsdorf's train station just then. Heinrich didn't need to answer, which was probably just as well. As far as he could remember, he'd never heard of a woman sleeping on the sofa while a man stayed in bed. It didn't seem fair. It wasn't anything he'd ever had to worry about himself, but it didn't.
In the station, he put fifteen pfennigs into a vending machine and pulled out a copy of the Volkischer Beobachter. Even in buying a newspaper, he fed the Party's coffers. Were he the good German he pretended to be, he supposed that would have made him feel proud, or at least patriotic. As things were, it left him mildly-perhaps a little more than mildly-irked. He couldn't even find out what was going on in the world without helping to finance his own destruction.
Willi put coins in the machine and got a paper, too. Along with the other people who'd ridden the bus to the station, they went to the platform to wait for the train to downtown Berlin. Heinrich glanced at his watch. They wouldn't have to wait long.
When the train pulled up a very few minutes later, the commuters fed their account cards into the slot one after another. Willi was in front of Heinrich in the queue. He sat down by a window, and thumped the seat next to him to show Heinrich was welcome. They both started reading the papers.
'Buckliger's going to talk to a bunch of big shots in Nuremberg tomorrow,' Heinrich remarked. 'I wonder what he'll have to say.'
'Whatever the Bonzen want to hear,' Willi predicted. 'What other point is there in going to Nuremberg?' He spoke with a Berliner's cynicism and a Berliner's certainty that no other place in the Reich really mattered.
'Maybe,' Heinrich said. 'But maybe not, too. He didn't say what everybody expected him to the last time, you know.'
He waited to see what Willi would make of that. Willi started to tell him he didn't know what he was talking about-started to and then, very visibly, stopped. 'That's true,' his friend said. 'He didn't. But why would you go to Nuremberg to say anything that's out of the ordinary? Out of the ordinary isn't what Nuremberg is for.'
'Who knows?' Heinrich shrugged. 'If we're confused after he makes his speech, Horst will tell us what to think about it.'
'Well, of course he will,' Willi Dorsch said, with no irony Heinrich could hear. 'Telling us what to think is what Horst Witzleben is for.'
'He's good at it, too,' Heinrich said.
'Not much point to having a Propaganda Ministry where the people aren't good at what they do, is there?' Willi said.
'Oh, I don't know. Look at the Croats,' Heinrich said. The Croatian Ustasha did their jobs with an enthusiasm even the Gestapo found frightening. The German secret police were-mostly-professionals. The Croats were zealots, and proud of being zealots.
But Willi shook his head. 'They want to show how frightful they are, and so they do. The national sport down there is hunting Serbs. And if the Serbs had been on the winning side, their national sport would have been hunting Croats. And do you know what else? They would have bragged about it, too. Tell me I'm wrong.'
He waited. Heinrich thought it over. 'I can't,' he said, 'not when you're right.'
To his surprise, Willi looked angry. 'You'd be more fun to argue with if you didn't admit you were wrong when you're wrong,' he complained with mock severity.
'No, I wouldn't,' Heinrich answered.
'Yes, you-' Willi broke off and sent him a reproachful stare. 'Oh, no, you don't. You're a devil, is what you are.'
'Danke schon. I do appreciate that.'
'You would,' Willi said. They both laughed. The train pulled into the Berlin station. Everything seemed the way it had in happier, less nervous times. Then Willi asked, 'When are we going to play some more bridge? It's been too long.'
Air-raid sirens started howling inside Heinrich's head. He couldn't show them, though, any more than he could show so much of what he felt. He couldn't even show this particular alarm in front of Lise. He'd dug that trap for himself, and now he'd fallen into it. Knowing he had, he said, 'Why don't you and Erika come over Friday of next week after work?'
'Sounds good,' Willi said.
Did it? Heinrich was anything but sure. He did think-he certainly hoped-Erika was less likely to say or do anything drastic at his house than at hers. If he turned out to be wrong…If I turn out to be wrong, Lise will clout me one, and I'll deserve it. Still, next to some of the other things that could happen, even a clout from his wife didn't seem too bad.
Then he had no more time for such worries. He stuffed the Volkischer Beobachter into his briefcase and performed the elaborate dance that took him from the downstairs train platform to the upstairs bus queue. As with any dance, if you had to think about what you were doing, you didn't do it so well. Willi matched his movements as smoothly as one ballerina in an ensemble conforming to another.
Their reward for such a performance was not an ovation but standing room on the bus that would take them to Oberkommando der Wehrmacht headquarters. Someone on the bus hadn't seen soap anywhere near recently enough. Heinrich took in small, shallow sips of air, which might have helped a little. Then Willi muttered, 'Who brought along his polecat?' You couldn't take small, shallow sips of air when you were laughing like a loon.
Once they got to the office, Heinrich phoned home and let Lise know about the invitation: he was a well- trained husband. 'That sounds like fun,' she said, which proved she didn't know everything that was going on. Heinrich couldn't tell her, either, and not just because Willi's desk was only a couple of meters away.
Willi, for that matter, might not have heard a word he said. Willi was busy flirting with Ilse. By the way she
