were they doing here? Was Shaeffer keeping him here? Had they told Lena? He turned to her. Get it over with. “They got Emil.”
“Yes, he came to the flat. With the American. Such a scene, you can’t imagine.”
“To the flat?” Jake said. “Why?” Nothing clear.
“He was looking for something,” Erich said.
The files, even now. “Did he find it?”
“No,” Lena said, looking away.
“He was angry,” the boy said.
“Well, now he’s happy,” Lena said to him quickly. “So never mind. He’s going away, so he’s lucky too.” She looked at Jake. “He said you saved his life.”
“No. That’s not what happened.”
“Yes. The American said so too. Oh, you’re always so modest. It’s like the newsreel.”
“That didn’t happen either.”
“Ouf,” she said, brushing this away. “Well, now it’s over. Do you want something? Can you eat?” Busy again, picking up a shirt from the floor.
“I didn’t save him. He tried to kill me.”
Lena stopped, still half bent over, the shirt in hand. “Such talk. It’s the drugs.”
“No, that’s what happened,” he said, trying to keep his voice level and clear. “He tried to kill me.”
She turned slowly. “Why?”
“The files, I guess. Maybe because he thought he could. No one would know.”
“It’s not true,” she said quietly.
“No? Ask him how he got the scratches on his hand.”
For a moment, silence, broken finally by someone clearing his throat.
“Well, suppose we put all that behind us now, shall we?” Shaeffer came through the door, Ron trailing behind him.
Lena turned to him. “So it’s true?”
“Anybody in a car crash gets a few scratches, you know. Look at you,” he said to Jake.
“You saw it,” Jake said.
“Confusing situation like that? A lot of splashing, that’s what I saw.”
“So it is true,” Lena said, sinking onto the bed.
“Sometimes the truth’s a little overrated,” Shaeffer said. “Doesn’t always fit.”
“Where have you got him?” Jake said.
“Don’t worry, he’s safe. No thanks to you. Hell of a place to pick to go swimming. God knows what’s in there. Doc says we’d better get some sulfa drugs into him before we take him to Kransberg. Might spread.”
“You’re taking him to Kransberg?”
“Where’d you think I was taking him-to the Russians?” Said genially, without guile, his smile pushing the rest of Jake’s haze away. Not Shaeffer after all. Someone else.
“Tell me the truth,” Lena said. “Did Emil do that?”
Shaeffer hesitated. “He might have got a little agitated is all. Now let’s forget about all that. We’ll get Geismar fixed up here and every-body’ll be just fine.”
“Yes, fine,” Lena said, distracted.
“We have a few things to go over,” Ron said.
Lena looked at the boy, who’d been following their conversation like a tennis match.
“Erich, do you know what’s downstairs? A gramophone. American records. You go listen and I’ll be down soon.”
“Take him down and get him set up,” Shaeffer said to Ron, giving orders now. “Your kid?” he said to Lena.
Lena shook her head, staring at the floor.
“All right,” Shaeffer said, turning to Jake, back to business. “Why the hell did you keep running away from me?”
“I thought you were someone else,” Jake said, still trying to work it out. “He knew I’d be there.” He looked up. “But you knew I’d be there too. How did you?”
“Boys over in intelligence got a tip.”
“From whom?”
“I don’t know. Really,” Shaeffer said, suddenly earnest. “You know how those things work. You get a tip, you don’t have time to chase around to see where it comes from-you find out if it’s true. You ran out on us once. Why the fuck wouldn’t I believe it?” He glanced over at Lena. “I thought you were doing the lady another favor.”
“No, I was doing you a favor.”
“Yeah? And look what happened. Who’d you think I was?”
“The man who shot Tully.”
“Tully? I told you once, I don’t give a shit about Tully.” He looked over. “Who was it?”
“I don’t know. Now I’m not going to.”
“Well, who cares?”
“You should. The man who shot him got Brandt out of Kransberg.”
“Well, I’m putting him back. That’s all that matters now. The rest, that’s all forgotten.” Another American smile, last week’s game.
“You’ve still got some bodies to account for. You going to forget about them too?”
“I didn’t shoot them.”
“Just the tire.”
“Yeah, well, the tire. I figure I owe you for that one. Not that I fucking owe you anything. But it fits. Ron says we can play it this way.
“What are you talking about? You’ve got people shot in public. Witnesses. How do you play that?”
“Well, that’s a question of what was seen, isn’t it? A German guns down a Russian officer, hightails it away, gets followed, gets killed. Kind of thing happens in Berlin.“
“In front of the whole press corps.”
Shaeffer smiled. “But the only one they recognize in the whole mess is you. Isn’t that right, Ron?”
“Afraid so,” Ron said, coming back in. “Hard to keep track of what’s what when things are-hectic.”
“So?”
“So they know you were there. You were seen, so we had to explain you.
“Explain me how?”
“Damned fool thing going after him like that,” Shaeffer said. “But that’s the kind of damned fool thing you do. Got a reputation for it. And the press-you can’t blame them-they always like it when the hero’s one of their own.”
“Fuck you. That’s not the way I’m going to write it.”
Ron looked at him. “That’s the way it’s gone out. From everybody. While you’ve been on the critical list. ‘Hanging by a thread,’ as they say. They did, too.”
“I said I owed you for the tire. So now you’re a fucking hero. Not that you deserve it. But it fits.”
“Maybe the Russians won’t agree. They were there too.”
“Only the one who’s dead.”
“You shoot the guys in the Horch?”
“What Horch?” Shaeffer said, looking up. “Next question.”
“Who shot Gunther then? He didn’t die in a car crash. There’s a bullet in him. So who put it there?”
“You did,” Shaeffer said calmly.
Ron leaped in before Jake could say anything. “See, Kalach-that’s the Russian he shot-saw him aim for the stands. Lucky Kalach got to him before he could take out Zhukov-that’s who we think he was after. Of course, not so lucky for Kalach. But hell, it might have been Patton. On Victory Day. That kind of thing brings them out, makes a statement. Apparently there were personal problems-a drunk, never really got over the war. Cop who went bad-you know, when they do that, there’s nothing worse. Do anything. Not that I blame him for having a grudge against the Russians.”
