The Hunt

Dachau!

“No!” his voice croaked.

“They got four of them. They were arrested for . . “No!” Keegan suddenly screamed, his fists clenched. “Listen.. . listen to me, Francis, there’s nothing—nothing— you can do right now. At least we know she’s alive. She’s a political prisoner. If she were tried, she’d be tried for high treason. But there isn’t going to be a trial. She’s gone for now, Kee. Maybe when . .

“Damn, is that the only tune anybody knows? That’s all I hear. Nothing. I’m tired of hearing that word.”

“Kee..

“I’ll go to the embassy. Damn it, I’ll call the president..

“Kee..

“Goddamn it, we’re going to be married! She’ll be an American citizen. Hell, she hasn’t done anything. Her brother’s ….

Keegan stopped. He was soaked with sweat and his hands were shaking.

“Aw, listen to me, man,” Bert said. “If I could storm the place by myself and bring her back to you, I’d do it. And if you weren’t my best friend I couldn’t say this to you .

“Then don’t,” Keegan cut him off. “You listen to me. I don’t buy nothing. I. . . can’t. . . give. . . this. . . up!”

“You have to!” Bert answered, his voice rising too. “You don’t have any choice!”

“You’re telling me that and you claim to be my best friend .

“Christ, I’m trying to be honest with you . .

“Bullshit. Bull shit!”

Rudman felt his own anger building but he held it in.

“Listen, you’re the one used to say it wasn’t any of your business, remember?” he snapped back. “This isn’t your country. It will all blow over. Used to tell me I was hysterical. Hysterical? Look at you.”

“What the hell do you expect me to do? Jitterbug around the room?”

The room service bellman arrived and they both cooled down while Keegan signed the check. Rudman poured two cups of coffee. He sat down on the sofa.

“Every day hundreds—maybe thousands—of people are dragged off the streets like this,” Rudman said shaking his head. “Out of their homes, offices, shops, out of schools, for God’s sake, and their families never see them again

“I’m not one of them. I’m an American citizen.

“Immaterial, pal,” Rudman interrupted this time. “You’ve got to get that fixed in your head. All your money, your influence, it doesn’t mean anything here. You are one of them, Kee. The same pain, same anger, same . . . everything. This thing, you’re just one of the crowd. All those other voices drown you out.,,

“Then we’ll tell them. Write a story about Dachau, about what’s happening.

“Damn it, don’t you understand, nobody wants to hear it. I did a story on Dachau for the Tribune three months ago. It was buried on page thirty in the New York edition.”

“So I roll over and play dead, that it?”

“Kee, you can’t get her out,” Rudman said slowly. “The whole world feels the way you did, that it’s a German problem.”

“You won’t do anything because it’ll jeopardize your precious bloody bureau, is that it?”

“Aw, for Christ sake, Kee.

Keegan whirled suddenly and threw his coffee cup at the wall. It shattered, spraying bits of china around the room, the coffee etching a brown stain down the wallpaper. His shoulders sagged.

“Go on, get out of here.” Keegan waved his hand dejectedly. “Leave me alone.”

“To do what?” Rudman said. “Wallow in self-pity?”

Keegan dropped into a chair and did not answer. He seemed to shrink from the weight of the tragedy. Rudman sighed and walked to the door. “You’re just another member of a very sad club, Kee, and the membership’s growing larger by the day.”

He left. As the door clicked shut, Keegan jumped up.

“Ah shut,” he said, striding across the room after him. The phone rang.

Vierhaus? he thought. Finally.

He rushed across the room and snatched it up.

“Yes?” he said, far too eagerly.

“Mr. Keegan?”

“Yes.”