thousand tons a day on Germany. Sixty-six against three thousand, that is the mathematics they were working with. And to do this, forty thousand prisoners finally. More and more for this number. You want me to explain what happened? They were crazy. They made us crazy. I don’t know what else to tell you. How can I answer this?” He stopped pacing, turning his hands up in question.
“I wish somebody could. Everybody in Germany has an explanation. And no answer.”
“To what?”
“Eleven hundred calories a day. Another number.”
Emil looked away. “And you think I did that?”
“No, you just did the numbers.”
Emil was still for a moment, then came over to the bedside table and picked up the cup. “You’ve finished your coffee?” He stood near the bed, staring down at the cup. “So now I’m to blame. That makes it easy for you? To take my wife.”
“I’m not blaming you for anything,” Jake said, looking up into his glasses. “You do it.”
Emil nodded to himself. “Our new judges. You blame us, then you go home, so we can accuse each other. That’s what you want. So it s never over.”
“Except for you. You go to the States with the rest of your group and go on with your fine work. That’s the idea, isn’t it? You and von Braun and the rest of them. No questions there. All forgotten. No files.”
Emil peered over his glasses. “You’re so sure the Americans want these files?”
“Some of them do.”
“And the others at Kransberg? You would do this to them too? It’s not enough to accuse me?”
“This isn’t just about you.”
“No? I think so, yes. For Lena.”
“You’re wrong. About that, too.”
“You think it would make her happy? To send me to jail?”
Jake said nothing.
Emil raised his head, letting out a breath. “Then do it. I can’t stay here. They’re looking for me, she told me this. So send me. What difference where I’m a prisoner?”
“Don’t be too anxious to go. You’re a liability now, undelivered goods. He’ll have to do something.”
“Who?”
“Tully’s partner.”
“I told you, there was no one else.”
“Yes, there was.” Jake looked up, a new idea. “You talk to anyone else at Kransberg?”
“Americans? No. Just Tully,” Emil said absently, not interested.
“And Shaeffer. The debriefing,” Jake said, explaining. “Ever meet his friend Breimer? ”
“I don’t know the name. They were all the same to us.”
“Big man, government, not a soldier?”
“That one? Yes, he was there. To meet the group. He was interested in the program.”
“I’ll bet. He talk to you?”
“No, only von Braun. The Americans, they like a von,” he said, shrugging a little.
Jake sat back for a moment, thinking. But how could it be? Another column that wouldn’t add up.
Emil took his silence for an answer and moved toward the door, carrying the mug. “You’ll at least send word to Kransberg? My colleagues will worry—”
“They’ll keep. I want you missing a little while longer. A little bait.”
“Bait?”
“That’s right. Like Lena was for you. Now you can be the bait. We’ll see who bites.”
Emil turned at the door, blinking behind his glasses. “It’s no good, talking. The way you are now. What is it, some idea of justice? For whom, I wonder. Not for Lena. You think I ask for myself-for her too. Think what it means for her.”
“I see. For her.”
“Yes, for her. You think she wants this trouble for me?” He opened his hand, taking in not just the room but the files, the whole clouded future.
“No, she thinks she owes you something.”
“Maybe it’s you who owes something.”
Jake looked up at him. “Maybe,” he said. “But she doesn’t.”
Emil shook his head. “How things turn out. To think I left Kransberg for her. And now this-all our work. So you can prove something to her. Wave these files in my face. ‘You see what kind of man he is. Leave him.’”
“She has left you,” Jake said.
“For you,” Emil said, shaking his head at the implausibility of it, drawing his round shoulders back, upright, the way they must have looked in uniform. “But how different you are. Not the same man. I thought you would understand how it was here-leave me my work, that much. No, you want that too. Your pound of flesh. Make all of us Nazis. She won’t thank you for this. Does she even know, how different you are?”
Jake stared at him for a minute, the same man on the station platform, no longer blurry, as if the train had slowed so he could really see.
“But you’re not,” he said, suddenly weary, the dull ache in his shoulder spreading to his voice. “I just didn’t know you. Your father did. Some missing piece, he called it.”
“My father—”
“You never had anything in your head but numbers. Not her. She was your excuse. Even Tully bought it. Maybe you believe it yourself. The way you think Nordhausen just happened. All by itself. But that doesn’t make it true. Owes you something? You didn’t come to Berlin for her-you came to get the files again.”
“No.”
“Just like the first time. She thinks you risked your life to get her. It wasn’t for her. Von Braun sent you. It was his car, his assignment. To keep the work going. No embarrassing pieces of paper. You never even tried to get her, just save your own sorry skin.”
“You weren’t there,” Emil said angrily. “Get through that hell? How could I do that? I had the other men to think of. There was only one bridge left—”
“And you drove right out with them. I don’t blame you. But you don’t blame yourself either. Why not? You were in charge. It was your party. How long did it take you to get the files? That was your priority. Passengers? Well, if there was time. And then there wasn’t.”
“She was at the hospital,” Emil said, raising his voice. “Safe.”
“She was raped. She almost died. She tell you that?”
“No,” he said, looking down.
“But you got what you really came for. You left her and saved the team. And now you want to do it again, even make her help this time, because she thinks she owes you something. She’s lucky she got the phone call.”
“It’s a lie,” Emil said.
“Is it? Then why didn’t you tell von Braun you were leaving Kransberg with Tully? You couldn’t, could you? Not the real reason. He thought you’d already taken care of the files. But you had to be sure. That’s why you came. It’s always been about the files. Not her.”
Emil kept staring at the floor. “You’d do anything to turn her against me,” he said, his tone aggrieved, closed off. He looked up. “You’ve told her this?”
“You tell her,” Jake said steadily. “I wasn’t there, remember? You were. Tell her how it was.” He watched Emil stand there, shaking his head numbly in the sudden stillness, and sank back against the pillow. “Then maybe she’ll figure it out for herself.”
Brian turned up after dinner, bringing a newspaper and a bottle of NAAFI scotch.
“Well, safe and sound. That looks nasty,” he said, pointing to the shoulder. “You ought to see to that.” He opened the bottle and poured two drinks. “Quite a hidey-hole, I must say. I saw a lovely thing in the hall. Nothing under the wrapper, by the looks of it. I don’t suppose they give out samples. Cheers.“ He tossed back the shot. ”How’d you find it?“
“It’s British owned.”
