Pavel watched Harro scurry down the steps of the apartment building into a waiting taxi. Moments later, he stood outside Harnack’s door. He heard a guitar playing within and pressed his ear against the entrance to catch the words of the song. His mind drifted back to his childhood and the small Belarus village where he had grown up. Long before he knew anything about anti-Semitism he had visited and played in the Jewish section of the village. His friend had introduced him to the works of Mordecai Gebirtig, a Yiddish folk poet and songwriter. He couldn’t believe his good fortune. His favorite “Avreml the Pickpocket,” was being sung in the Harnack apartment. Not only had he put the lyrics to memory, he had even learned to sing it in Yiddish. Taboo in the circles I now roam. In whispered tones, he sang along until it finished. Then, he knocked on the door.
Like a deer in headlights, his eyes fixed on hers. The rapid drumbeat of his heart echoed in the chambers of his ears. Careless observation would have discerned nothing between these two lovers, but closer scrutiny would have seen everything. Within that surreal moment, a cornucopia of what had been and what still might be was shared without saying a word. He wanted to, but dared not, hold her close to his breast. Unwise. Not yet. He sensed she understood. Though the moment melted away, his soul remained invisibly tethered to hers. Their hands touched then separated. In another time—a gentler time—acting on his feelings would have been an accepted, commonplace exchange between lovers. But he and she had a duty. He struggled to steel himself against those feelings. It would be injudicious of me to do otherwise. Too many depend on me for their survival.
“Let the man in!” Arvid called out.
The well appointed, spacious two-bedroom apartment was self contained. Beyond the foyer the carpeted flooring led to the living and dining rooms. The bedrooms were along a hallway that led to the bathroom. The kitchen was to the right of the entrance.
Lynn stepped aside while the two men embraced each other. Pavel peered at the young man who placed his guitar on the dining table. “Excuse me, Arvid.” He strolled across the room to the guitarist. “Where did you learn it?” The confusion on the young man’s face told him that he had no idea what he meant. “The song you just sang, ‘Avreml the Pickpocket’?”
“I taught him or at least my father did.” Elsa stepped from the group and pointed toward a man, built close to the ground, standing outside the closed bedroom door. She encouraged him to join them, but he waved her off and sat alone in the living room. She excused herself and hunched down beside his chair.
By all appearances, life had not treated her father well. Pavel kindly estimated his age to be sixtyish.
Several minutes later Elsa rejoined them. “My father needs to be alone with his thoughts. Don’t think badly of him. He, like me, is worried about my mother. She’s been very ill. He’ll join us when he’s ready. By the way, my name’s Elsa.” She extended her hand to Pavel.
“Then you must be Richard. Alexander Collier’s boy?” Richard nodded. “I’m surprised by how good your Yiddish is.” Richard stared at him coldly. “Pickpocket is my favorite.”
“You speak Yiddish, too?” Richard took Elsa’s hand.
“Not really. Your father never mentioned that you did.”
“Why would he? He didn’t know and, quite frankly, I don’t think he would have cared. Anyway, how did you know who I was?”
“You’re a much younger version of him. I must admit the resemblance is uncanny, right down to the pipe.” He gestured at the bowl of the pipe poking out from the breast pocket of his jacket.
“I’m nothing like him. Nor do I want to be.”
“Sorry. Didn’t mean to step on toes.” He glanced at the others while he chewed over Richard’s remarks.
“Why such a sombre expression?” Arvid stepped forward and eyed Pavel closely. “You do have the passports?”
“I do.” He reached into his pocket and handed him a brown envelope. “You know, Yiddish is easily recognizable. If I could stand beyond your door and listen undetected, so could another who might not be so friendly.” Mildred and Libertas exited the bedroom and closed the door behind them. “I understand being cooped up for as long as you have, isn’t easy. Nevertheless, your survival depends on remaining invisible.” Mentally, he counted the number in the room. “We may have a problem. Where’s the map outlining your escape route?”
“Right here.” The group separated to reveal Melissa sitting at the mahogany dining table waving the folded map.
“Pavel. There are two extras than originally planned,” Arvid said.
“I know. Why wasn’t I told?”
“Because we didn’t know until just a few hours ago.” Mildred walked across the room to join them. “Actually, Pavel, there are three.”
Flabbergasted, Pavel didn’t know what to say. Anger more than disappointment bubbled up in him.
“These two—” Arvid placed a hand on each of their shoulders—“were brought from Brussels by Leopold. Being managers of his small export business and Jews, he was concerned for their safety.”
Leopold’s name was all too familiar to Pavel. Though one of Stalin’s spymasters, Pavel’s network had grave doubts about Leopold. They feared he may be a double-agent. “He brought them from Brussels into Germany because they were Jews? Didn’t that arouse suspicion? Because it does for me.” Alarmed by a flicker of panic in one of the men’s eyes, Pavel pulled out his eight-shot Korovin TK pistol from inside his jacket and directed the muzzle at him.
“Werner sent them?” Queenie piped up.
Pavel swung around to face her. “Who the hell are you?”
Lynn stepped between them. “This is Elizabeth Stoddard, who goes by the nickname Queenie.”
“The third uninvited person.” Pavel’s gaze shifted back to the two men. “Look, Miss Stoddard, or whatever your name is, my sources are irrefutable on this, Werner was killed in a train crash at Magdeburg.” Pavel handed his automatic to Arvid. “Keep an eye on those two.”
“I only wish Werner had been.” Queen’s tone became more sombre. “Now I must contend with both Reinhard Heydrich and Werner.”
Reinhardt’s name, like approaching doom, sent a chill up Pavel’s spine. “Right now, I’m not making sense out of anything you’re saying. So, would you please explain what the hell you’re talking about?
“Pavel!” Lynn interrupted. “Right now, there’s more pressing matters.” She tilted her head in the direction of the two men Leopold had left behind.
Pavel scrutinized Queenie closely. “I’ll get back to you later.” His attention swung to Arvid. “Is that other bedroom empty?” Arvid nodded. “Good! We’ll put them in there. Give the package to Mildred to distribute. Choose two men to secure and gag these two bastards. I’ll interrogate them later. Once you’re done, get back out here.” When the bedroom door closed, he went to the map on the dining room table and dragged his finger along the train route.
Melissa whispered, “Are you alright?”
Pavel drew in a deep breath. “Mildred, Elsa, pass out the travel documents. We go tonight.” He felt the air being sucked out of the room. “Everyone! I understand your concern. Right now, we need cool heads. So, take in a few deep breaths and be ready to leave within the half hour. Only bring essentials. No more than one suitcase each.”
“Elsa!” her father called out. She handed the travel documents to Mildred and went to his side.
Melissa pulled on Pavel’s sleeve and drew closer. “What’s changed?”
“The timing has been halved,” he whispered. “Germany will invade Poland on the first of September, not the third. That means we only have two days.”
“Wouldn’t Harro have known that?”
Pavel shook his head. “My bet is that he will learn that this evening.” He fixed his glance on Libertas.
Arvid vacated the bedroom behind the two men he had chosen to assist him and shut the door. Elsa rose from the floor beside her dad’s chair and scurried across to talk to him.
After their conversation, he returned the pistol to Pavel who holstered his gun inside his jacket. “Wearing your emotions on your sleeve, Arvid, makes you and, by association, everyone here vulnerable.”
“We are all vulnerable if it turns out that Leopold has sold us out.”
“Our whole network.” Pavel felt pressure building up in him. I must act. “I have people close to Leopold.”
“Elsa’s mother is gravely ill. Her father won’t leave without her. The question begs to be asked—how do you expect to obtain train tickets at such late notice without arousing Gestapo suspicion?”
“You forget. Our comrades run the railway system. A simple phone call will take care of that. What do you suggest we do with Elsa’s parents?”
“I wish I had an easy answer,” Arvid replied. “But I don’t. I’d better help Mildred get the others ready.”
While Arvid and his wife advised and assisted the others Pavel turned to Queenie. “My guess is you’re right about those two men in the bedroom. I’ll know soon enough. But—”
Queenie stepped closer. “Werner duped Leopold into taking them in.”
“Assuming you’re correct about Werner, how do they know each other?”
“They don’t know each other at all. At least not in the usual sense. What’s known only travels one way and that’s to Werner.”
“That’s a strange way to say whatever it is you’re trying to tell me.”
“Perhaps. Nevertheless, Leopold’s not the problem. But those two men in the bedroom are a different story.”
“You’re a strange bird. I have no idea how you know these things. Yet, my instincts tell me to heed what you say.”
“Thank you. I can tell you that Werner’s defenses are stronger now. It took me longer to break through.”
“Defenses? Whatever are you talking about woman?”
Lynn came alongside Pavel. “Trust what she has to say.”
Somewhat discombobulated, Pavel stared at Queenie. “How does Reinhard fit into all of this?” She stared at him. He found her silence unnerving.
“The question is, where does he not fit in?” she finally replied.