“Well, if I told you, then both of us would know. What would be the sense in that? This way, I can buy a little insurance-something to keep your finger off the trigger. I’m too valuable to shoot.”
Sikorsky stubbed out his cigarette, rubbing it back and forth. “What do you want?” he said finally.
Jake shook his head. “Your information isn’t good enough. You see, you brought the wrong thing to the table. I don’t want to see Emil. You can tell him goodbye yourself.”
“You don’t want to see him,” he said skeptically.
“Not especially. But his wife does. All I wanted was to make an arrangement, as a favor to her. No skin off your nose, as far as I could see. But no. You just want to prove what a tough guy you are. Steel. So nobody gets what he wants.” He paused, then looked up. “She wants to see him. That’s still the deal. If I were you, I wouldn’t be in such a hurry to move him-if you want us to have another little talk.”
There was a roar behind them as Brian, in his cups now, laughed at one of his own jokes.
“An old newspaperman’s trick,” Sikorsky said sarcastically. “This too, I think.”
“Suit yourself. I’d give it some thought. You know, suspicion’s a funny thing-it eats everything up. Even steel can rust. A Russian failing.” Now it was his turn to reach for his hat. “Anyway, thanks for the soup. When you change your mind, let me know.”
He stood up, so that Sikorsky was forced to rise as well, eyes still locked on his.
“It seems we’ve wasted our time, Mr. Geismar.”
“Not exactly. There was only one thing I wanted to know, and now I do.”
“One thing. Yet so many questions.”
“A newspaperman’s trick. Get people talking and they’ll usually tell you what you’re looking for.”
“Is that so?” Sikorsky said dryly. “And what have you learned?”
Jake leaned forward, resting his hands on the table. “That it’s still going on. It didn’t end with Tully-you just want us to think so. That’s why you want me to see Emil-so I can tell everybody I saw him go and I know who his delivery boy was. Case closed. But it isn’t. You just told me so. Future deliveries. Emil had to disappear, no trace. Why? Tully gets killed. Game over? No, an inconvenience, just a hitch in the operation. Was he going home? Not the end of the world either. Why? Because he wasn’t working alone.” Jake leaned back. “It’s like Stalingrad, isn’t it? You’re still protecting your supply line. Tully wasn’t your partner, he was just one of those kids the Germans could pick off. Expendable. As long as the boats kept running. You don’t care who killed him, just whether we know how it all worked. And now here’s Geismar, sticking his nose in. He makes the connection to Tully, half the story. So let’s let him think he’s got it all, let’s even give him a goodbye interview. I told you you were a lousy judge of character. Do you think I’m going to stop? When this started, I thought I had a bad apple in the black market. Then it kept getting bigger and bigger. Not just Tully, not just Brandt. Not even just you. Now it’s a whole rotten barrel. With your supplier still in place, selling us out. That’s the story I want.”
Sikorsky stood still, expressionless. “If you live to write it.”
“Well, that’s up to you, isn’t it?” Jake said, nodding toward Sikorsky’s holster. “If you’re sure I’m the only one who knows. Are you?”
They stood facing each other for another second, not moving.
Jake put on his hat. “Checkmate.”
Sikorsky stared at him, then slowly raised his hand palm out in a stop sign. Then, resigned, he turned it down toward the table, gesturing to Jake to take his seat. “You are attracting attention.”
Sikorsky sat down, but even after Jake followed he said nothing, looking away toward the room, as if he were sifting through his options. Jake waited him out. How would he start? But Sikorsky stayed silent, apparently at a loss, his gaze stuck over Jake’s shoulder. Then, unexpectedly, he raised his eyebrows and smiled oddly, no more than a tremor of his closed mouth.
“You’re a poor chess player, Mr. Geismar,” he said, still looking past Jake.
“Am I?”
“Very. Even a poor player knows not to move up the queen.”
Now the smile broadened, almost a smirk, so that Jake turned to follow it, feeling some new disturbance in the room.
She was standing near Brian’s table, letting him take her hand, hair pinned up, the palm of sequins glittering on the front of her dress, the whole room quiet, looking at her. In the startled second that followed, Jake saw everything in a rush, a jerky loop of film-Brian kissing her hand, offering a drink, the Russians getting up, Lena shaking her head politely, then finally her face coming toward him, bold and determined, flushed with its own daring, the same face that had jumped off the sailboat into the Havel. He felt himself rise, the room skidding around him, but in the panic of everything going wrong what struck him, and wouldn’t let go, was the sequins, that she had dressed for Emil.
“Frau Brandt,” Sikorsky said, moving a chair. “An opportune visit. You’ve come to see your husband?”
“Yes.”
“Good. He’ll be pleased. Mr. Geismar here has refused our invitation. But you, I think, may feel differently.”
“Refused?” she said to Jake.
“The general isn’t interested in a meeting. They’re taking Emil east tomorrow,” Jake said evenly.
“East? But then—” She halted, stopped by his glance.
“Yes,” Sikorsky said. “So you see, opportune. Of course, you would be welcome too. An honored guest of the state.”
“You mean he’s leaving?” She turned to Jake, glaring. “Did you know this?”
“A little surprise from the general. We were just discussing a different arrangement. A later departure date.”
“Oh,” she said, looking down, finally aware. “A later date.”
“Unnecessary now,” Sikorsky said.
“I thought he wouldn’t believe you,” she said weakly, still looking down at the table.
“You were correct. My apologies,” Sikorsky said to Jake. He poured some vodka and moved the glass to Lena. “A drink?”
She shook her head, biting her lower lip. “Leaving. So I won’t see him.”
“No, no. Dear lady, you can see him now. That’s what I’m telling you.” He turned to Jake, enjoying himself. “That is what you wanted, isn’t it?” he said smoothly.
Lena answered for him. “Yes. I want to see him. You can arrange that?”
Sikorsky nodded. “Come with me.”
“Nobody’s going anywhere,” Jake said, moving his hand to cover hers. “You think I’m going to let her walk out of here with you?”
Sikorsky rolled his eyes. “Your friend is suspicious. Like a Russian,” he said, playing. “Calm yourself. We don’t go far. Upstairs. Then I’ll bring Frau Brandt back to you and we can finish our talk. An interesting conversation,” he said to Lena. “Mr. Geismar still has things to tell me.” He looked at Jake. “You’ll be the guarantee for her return.”
“Upstairs?” Jake said. “You mean he’s here?”
“I thought it better to keep him close. For his safety. And you see how convenient.”
“Had it all figured out, didn’t you?”
“Well, I did not expect Frau Brandt. Sometimes—”
“Then figure again. She doesn’t go. Not like this.”
Sikorsky sighed. “A pity. But it’s of no importance.”
Lena looked at Jake, then slipped her hand out from under his. “Yes, I’ll do it.”
“No, you won’t.”
“It’s my choice,” she said to him.
“As you say, Frau Brandt,” Sikorsky said. “Your choice. Have a drink, Mr. Geismar. We won’t be long.”
Jake looked from one to the other, cornered. Sikorsky moved his chair back.
“If she goes, I go with her.”
“You don’t think your presence would be intrusive?” Sikorsky said, amused.
“I won’t be watching them, just you. Try one move—”
Sikorsky waved his hand, brushing this away.
