“Which is?”
“They think it’s a fuckup. Brandt cons Tully into giving him a pass. Just a nice guy.”
“And you don’t think so?”
“I don’t believe in the Easter Bunny either. I checked. The guy’s an operator. You know he was selling releases to Germans?”
“I heard.”
“A real piece of work. Twice sometimes-that’s how it came out. But they couldn’t prove it. His word against theirs. A bunch of Germans squealing. Who’s got time to investigate that? But Brandt- that’s something else. I get interested. And here’s the thing-it was Tully’s idea, skipping out. So I figure he’s up to his old tricks.”
“Tully’sidea?”
“Nobody thinks to check the taps,” Shaeffer said. “We only make transcripts when the guests are talking science. The rest of the time, our guys are reading a comic or taking a leak or something. So I get the monitor for that night and ask him what they were talking about. Nothing, he says, personal stuff. Like what? Nothing, Tully just told him they’d found his wife. Nothing,” he said sarcastically.
“But they hadn’t.”
“No. But I didn’t know that then. What I knew was that Tully’d got himself a paying customer. The one thing Brandt wanted. So I figure they negotiate a little private business. Brandt never made any noises about leaving before. He doesn’t clear it with von Braun-he just goes. Tully even drives him out. So when I hear that, I blow some whistles to yank Tully in, but by that time he’s gone too.”
“To Berlin. Why?”
“Payday, probably. They didn’t have money at Kransberg. I figured Brandt got the cash from his wife.”
“But he never found her.”
“Then Tully had one pissed-off German on his hands.” “No,” Jake said, shaking his head, thinking. “They didn’t meet up again in Berlin. Why would Tully want to do that if he’d lied about the wife?”
“Well, I didn’t know he had. See? I told you we could use you.” He leaned back, turning it over. “But he came.”
“Anything in the taps about friends in Berlin? Tully know anybody here?”
Shaeffer glanced up at him. “He knew Emil Brandt.”
“You trying to say Emil killed him?”
“I’m trying to say I don’t care. I just want him back. Tully’s not important.”
“He was important enough to shoot.”
“Him? Maybe he just got in the way,” Shaeffer said irritably, adjusting his bandage.
“Maybe,” Jake said. Like a girl taking pictures. “Be useful to know.”
“Not anymore,” Shaeffer said, wincing now, distracted by the bandage. “All I know is, he was going to lead me to Brandt and he didn’t.” He looked up. “Glad to hear about the wife, though. That’s something. At least the bastard didn’t get paid.”
“No, he got paid.” Jake looked again out the window, another jolt. With Russian money.
“Yeah, I guess,” Shaeffer said, meaning the bullet. “What is it?” he said, following Jake’s stare.
“Nothing. Just thinking.” Move her. He picked up his cap. “I’d better go. You want the nurse for that?” He nodded at the bandage.
“Just thinking, huh?” Shaeffer said, studying him. Then his face hardened, back in the poster. “Don’t think too much. I want him back. I don’t care what he did.”
“If he did.”
“You just find him,” he said evenly, then smiled. “Christ, the wife. We could make a good team, the two of us.”
Jake shook his head. “People get shot around you.” He looked out the window again. “What if the Russians already have him?”
“Then I’d want to know that too. Where.”
“So you can organize another raiding party? The Russians wouldn’t like that.”
“So what?”
“You might not be so lucky next time. Liz won’t be there to take one for you.”
Shaeffer glared at him. “That’s a hell of a thing to say.”
“All right, skip it.”
He looked down. “I liked Liz. She was a good egg.” A kid in a soda fountain booth.
“All right,” Jake said again, an apology.
“You’ve got some fucking nerve. Anyway, what makes you so sure it was me? You can’t tell anything with the Russians. How did they even know I’d be there? Tell me that.”
“Why were you? Shopping in the Russian zone-not the smartest idea in your line of work.”
“That was Liz. She wanted a camera. I figured, why not? How would they know? How did they know? ”
“Maybe a greifer spotted you.”
“What’s that? A kraut word?”
“Sort of a lookout scout.” Jake started for the door, then turned. A greifer. “The name Sikorsky mean anything to you?”
“Vassily?”
“That’s right. He was in the market that day. Would he know you by sight?”
Shaeffer looked away, silent.
Jake nodded. “Make sure Breimer gets the guard.”
“Don’t worry, I can take care of myself.” He pulled a gun out from under the sheet and patted it.
Jake stood still for a second. Just a casual extension of his hand, like a fielder’s mitt. “You always keep one in bed? Or just lately?” He reached for the doorknob. “Better stay away from the window.”
Shaeffer aimed the gun there, target practice. “A Colt 1911 will stop anything at this range.”
Jake looked over at him. “A Colt 1911 stopped Tully too.”
Shaeffer turned, frowning, still holding the gun. “Says who?”
“The ballistics report.”
“So? It’s a standard-issue piece of equipment. There are only about a million of them around.”
“Not in German hands. Or do you think Tully gave him one with the pass?”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“That Emil didn’t do it. Not with one of those.”
Shaeffer glanced up, then smirked. “That’s right, I remember. You think I did. ‘Where were you and Breimer on the night of-’ whatever the fuck it was.”
“July sixteenth,” Jake said. “And where were you?”
Shaeffer lowered the gun. “Go fuck yourself.” He put it back under the covers. “You don’t listen. I’m the only one who wanted him alive. He was going to lead me to Brandt, remember?“ He stared at Jake for another second, then let it pass, shaking his head. ”You’ve got a funny way of making friends.“
“Are we? I’m still trying to figure that one.”
Another sharp look. “Just find him.” Shaeffer sank back against the pillows with a grunt, forcing a smile. “You’re all alike, you guys. Smart talk. Always something smart.” He looked up, his eyes steel again, Aryan gray. “Just don’t forget whose uniform you’ve got on. We’re on the same team over here. The same team.”
“Is that the same one Liz was on?”
“Yeah, well,” he said, looking down. “Things happen, don’t they? Wartime.”
“We’re not at war with the Russians.”
Shaeffer looked over at the newspaper with its black headline, then raised his head. “Says who?”
Afternoon light was streaming into the flat, but Hannelore was already putting on lipstick to go out.
“A little early, isn’t it?” Jake said, watching her lean into the mirror.
“It’s a tea party. It’s supposed to be early, A jause, no?”
“A Russian tea party?” he said, amused. A table of stolid commissars, with the Mad Hatter pouring out.
“No. My new friend, a Tommy. A real tea party, he said. You know, like before, with cups and everything.”
Spiked, followed by another party on the couch.
