Joseph Kanon - A Good German

“But how-you’re sure?”

A disappointed half-smile. “Yes. I can count. You don’t have to be a mathematician for that.”

“Emil didn’t know?”

“No. How could I tell him that? It never occurred to him.” She turned back to the marker. “To count.”

Jake ran his hand through his hair, at a loss, not sure what to say next. Their child. He thought of her face in the church basement while he read. The way it would have been.

“What did he look like?”

“You don’t believe me? You want proof? A photograph?”

“I didn’t mean that.” He took her arm. “I want it to be. I’m glad we—” He stopped, aware of the marker, and dropped his hand. “I was just curious. Did he look like me?”

“Your eyes. He had your eyes.”

“And Emil never—”

“He didn’t know your eyes so well.” She turned. “No, never. He looked like me. German. He was German, your child.”

“A son,” he said numbly, his mind flooded with it.

“You left. I thought for good. And here it was inside me, this piece of you. No one would know, just me. So. You remember at the station, when you went away? I knew then.”

“And you never said.”

“What could I say? ‘Stay’? No one needed to know, not even Emil. He was happy, you know. He always wanted a child, and it didn’t happen, and then there it was. You don’t look at the eyes-you see your own child. So he did that. He was the father of your child. He paid for him. He loved him. And then, when we lost him, it broke his heart. That’s what he was doing-while he did all those other things. The same man. Do you understand now? You want to let him ‘rot’? There is a debt here. You owe him this much, for your child.”

“Lena—”

“And me. What did I do? I lied to him about you. I lied to him about Peter. Now you want me to turn my back on him? I can’t do it. You know, when Peter died-American bombs-I thought, it’s a punishment. For all the lies. Oh, I know, don’t say it, it was crazy, I know. But not this. I have to put it right.”

“By telling him now?”

“No, never. It would kill him to know that. But to help him-it’s a chance to make it right. A debt.”

He took a step back. “Not mine.”

“Yes, yours too. That’s why I brought you here.” She pointed to the marker. “That’s you too. Here, in Berlin. One of us. His childyour child. You come in your uniform-so easy to judge when it’s not you. All these terrible people, look what they did. Walk away. Let’s go to bed-everything will be like before.” She turned to him. “Nothing’s like before. This is the way it is now-all mixed up. Nothing’s like before.”

He looked at her, disconcerted. “Maybe one thing. You must still love him, to do this.”

“Oh my god, love.” She moved forward and put her hands on his chest, almost pounding it. “Stubborn. Stubborn. If I didn’t love you, do you think I would have kept it? It would have been so easy to get rid of it. A mistake. These things happen. I couldn’t do it. I wanted to keep you. I looked at him, I could see you. So I made Emil his father. Love him? I used Emil to keep you.”

He said nothing, then took her hands off his chest. “And this would make it right.”

“No, not right. But it’s something.”

“He’ll go to prison.”

“It’s for certain? Who decides that?”

“It’s the law.”

“American law. For Germans.”

“I am an American.”

She looked up at him. “Then you decide,” she said, moving away to start back. “You decide.”

He stood for a moment, looking from the row of graves down to the marker, the part of him that was here now, then turned slowly and followed her down the hill. Contents — Previous Chapter / Next Chapter

The first part of Shaeffer’s plan was to get the location moved.

“They’ve got too many men at Burgstrasse.”

“You mean you can’t do it?”

“We can do it. It might get messy, that’s all. Then we’ve got an incident. Hell of a lot easier if you get him moved.” He scratched his bandage through his shirt, dressed now. “An apartment, maybe.”

“They’d have guards there too.”

“But not as many. Burgstrasse’s a trap. There’s only one entrance. To think he’s been there all along- How did you find out, by the way? You never said.”

“A tip. Don’t worry, he’s there. Somebody saw him.”

“Somebody who?” Schaeffer said, then looked at Jake’s face and let it go. “A tip. What did that cost you?”

One small boy. “Enough. Anyway, you wanted to know. Now all you have to do is get him out.”

“We’ll get him. But let’s do it right. I don’t like her at Burgstrasse. That’s cutting it close, even for us.”

“I still don’t see why you need her at all. You know where he is. Just go in and get him.”

Shaeffer shook his head. “We need the diversion, if we want to do it right.”

“That’s what she is, a diversion?”

“You said she agreed to do it.”

“I haven’t.”

“You’re here, aren’t you? Come on, stop wasting time. I’ve got things to work out. But first, see if you can get him moved.”

“Why would Sikorsky do that?”

Shaeffer shrugged. “The lady’s got delicate feelings. She won’t want to start her new life in a cell-gives a bad taste to it. Might make her think twice. I don’t know, figure something out. You’re the one with the smart mouth-use it on them for a change. Maybe you don’t like it, since you’re making the delivery. That still the way you want it?”

“I go with her or she doesn’t go.”

“Suit yourself. Just cover your own ass. I can’t worry about you too-just Brandt. Understand?”

“If anything happens to her—”

“I know, I know. You’ll hunt me down like a dog.” Shaeffer picked up his hat, eager to go. “Nothing’s going to happen if we do it right. Now, how about it? First have your little talk with Sikorsky. You’re in luck, too,” he said, glancing at his watch. “He’s in the zone. Control Council meets today, so you won’t even have to go out to Karlshorst. You can see him at the banquet. There’s always a banquet. Nobody’ll even know it’s a meeting-you just happened to run into him. With something to offer. How much are you going to ask, have you decided?”

“How much?”

“It plays better if you’re selling her. Just don’t go overboard-she’s not the husband. You want this to happen. The point is to set it up, not make a score.”

Jake looked away, disgusted. “Fuck you.”

“Try to get him moved,” Shaeffer said, ignoring him. “But either way, give me a day or two. I still have to lay my hands on some Russian uniforms.”

“What for?”

“Well, we can’t go in with American uniforms, can we? Might look a little conspicuous in the Russian zone.“

Cowboy stuff. Improbable. “I don’t like this. Any of it.”

“Let’s just get it done, okay?” Shaeffer said. “You can grouse later.

Right now you just sweet-talk the Russian and get the door open.

We’ll do the rest.“ He grinned at Jake. ”I told you we’d make a good team. Takes all kinds, doesn’t it?“

Guards had been posted at the driveway entrance to the Conrol Council building, but Muller’s name got him through. He swung around to the gravel forecourt facing the park, then had to find a place in the crowd of jeeps and official cars. The work party had done its job-the park had been cleaned up, everything neat and polished, like the white-scarved sentries. Officers with briefcases rushed through the heavy doors, late or just self-important, a blur of motion. Jake followed one group into the chandeliered hall without drawing a glance. The meeting room, off-limits to press, would be another matter, but Muller’s name had worked once and might work again, so he headed down the corridor to his office. His secretary, nails still bright red, was just on her way to lunch.