One man, wearing a Dutch cap, nudged Frau Koenig’s shoulder with the muzzle of his rifle.
A second lifted his aim in Magda’s direction. “You know her? You two related?”
Magda shook her head. “I used to work here.”
“This is the housemaid Koenig was looking for.” The realization on the second man’s face spread.
“Is that right?” the third man asked.
The other looters gathered around them on the lawn. One woman stepped forward and spit on Frau Koenig’s head. The scalp was splotched red. Blood ran from a cut and down her forehead.
The woman who had spit on Frau Koenig peered at Magda. “Yeah, this one was wanted by the Obersturmbannführer himself. Must have done something real bad. Must be a hero.”
“I’m not a hero,” Magda said shakily.
“She’s the one who saved the Taubers’ little girl,” another woman cried. “There was a fire, and this woman here, she saved the doctor’s little girl.”
Magda stared at her. She did not recognize the woman. The only people here that night had been the family and the staff. “How do you know about that?”
The woman shrugged. “I just heard.”
“A real hero,” Dutch Cap said over Frau Koenig. By a tuft of remaining hair, he yanked the poor woman’s face up. “What did you do to our girl here?”
“I’m not a hero,” Magda repeated.
The third rifleman approached Magda. He held his weapon out to her. “Here. She and her husband must have done quite a job on you, by the looks of your face. You do it. Kill the bitch. Don’t you want to kill the bitch?”
Magda stared at his rifle. She did.
She reached for her rucksack on her shoulders and slowly removed it so that everyone could see what she was doing. She held the gaze of the three men surrounding Frau Koenig. She opened it and reached in. Magda withdrew her revolver.
The men sniggered, each taking a step back.
“That a girl,” Dutch Cap said.
The second nudged the third. “She’s got as much balls as we do. Go ahead girlie. She’s all yours.”
He shoved Frau Koenig, and she fell forward onto all fours. Robert fell from his mother’s arms as Frau Koenig tried to catch herself. His head thudded dully against the flagstones. He lay face upward and stared at the sky for a moment before his face contorted with his cries once more.
Frau Koenig tried to scoop her son into her arms again, but Dutch Cap kicked her in the ribs, and she sprawled sideways.
Magda moved to stand over the woman. “Where is your husband?” she asked in German. She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. Her lips were hot and dry. She felt nauseated. “Woman, if you want to save yourself, you had better be prepared to share information.”
Frau Koenig gasped for air, clutching her side. Magda dropped onto all fours next to her. Robert was trying to get up, and someone moved to Magda’s left. She swung the revolver at the person. It was the second rifleman. “Leave the boy be.”
Robert rolled over onto his side and crawled on all fours toward his mother. Toward Magda.
Magda turned to Frau Koenig again. “I said, where is your husband?”
Panting, Frau Koenig glared at her. “I don’t know.”
The crowd pressed in like hyenas. Magda smelled the adrenaline, the sweat. She glanced at their faces. This was who they had become. Had she?
“There’s a wall,” Magda called, her gaze steady on Frau Koenig’s. “In the master bedroom. It’s a double wall. You’ll find it if you look carefully. Koenig might be there.”
The three riflemen exchanged looks of admiration, then jerked their heads at a group of men in the crowd. Those men dashed back into the house. Others followed in their wake.
“He’s gone,” Frau Koenig said matter of factly. Saliva dribbled from her mouth. “He’s left me and Robert here. He’s gone.”
Magda pursed her lips. Robert reached them, and rocked backward, snot running from his nose. He called to his mother. She did not seem to hear him.
Magda clicked the safety back into place. She turned to the child. “Come here. Come to Magda.”
He shook his head. “Mutti.”
The boy had no idea what he wanted. Magda rose and lifted him into her arms, pressing him against her. She was something solid. Something he could cling to. He kicked his little legs, and she felt the muscles in his torso tense. He was a strong boy. Much stronger than any of the children she had encountered along the way here. Perhaps even too strong for her.
Frau Koenig released a keening wail. “Leave my child! Leave him alone! You witch! You dirty, stinking Jew!”
“Are you Jewish?” Dutch Cap said with surprise.
Magda stared at him, rubbing her hand—the revolver still in it—over Robert’s back. She tried to lift him higher, tried to get him in her arms so he would stop weighing her down. “I’m the child’s godmother.”
There were angry grumbles from the crowd. Magda pressed Robert closer to her. He finally wrapped his legs around her waist. He smelled of lemon and rosemary. She pictured the bars of soap in Frau Tauber’s bathroom.
The second rifleman jerked his head at Magda. “Is this true?”
“Arrest Frau Koenig if you must,” Magda said. “But you will not be murderers like the Nazis. She certainly has valuable information.”
Robert twisted around and looked down at his mother, then whimpered and threw his arms around Magda’s neck. He was hanging on for dear life. Don’t put me down with her. That was what he was saying.
Those who had gone to search the bedroom walked out with disappointed expressions. They had found the second wall, but they had not found Koenig or anyone else hiding there.
Dutch Cap jabbed his muzzle into Frau Koenig’s cheek. “You’re no use, are you?” He spoke in German.
With her left hand, Magda supported Robert. With her right, she cocked the pistol at the rifleman.
“Who the hell do you think you are?” he demanded.
“I’m Magda. Magdalena Novák from Voštiny.”
“And what are
