David Healey - Winter Sniper

“Such aim,” she remarked. “You should think about becoming a marksman.”

“Do you know something about shooting?” he asked pointedly.

“Let’s talk about more pleasant subjects.”

The colonel took two champagne flutes from the liquor cart and poured. “Let’s toast to the year ahead. I can tell that 1944 is going to be a very good year for me.” He raised his glass. “And a good year for America. Not such a good year for you Germans.”

Eva did not sip her champagne. “I am done with Germany.”

“Are you? I wonder.” Fleischmann raised his glass and drank alone, smacking his lips at the taste. “When I left yesterday I asked myself about the note you sent warning of the assassination attempt on General Eisenhower. How would you know about it unless you somehow were party to the assassin’s plans? Yet you sent a warning. I’m not sure why. Perhaps you were concerned that your precious Captain Walker might get in the way? Unless, of course, he was in on it himself. Turns out he was quite the hero of the hour. I understand you two spent some time together that afternoon.”

“Carl, I don’t know what you are suggesting —”

“Come off it, Eva. I know what you are.” The colonel began to pace the room and Eva saw that he was thinking out loud, solving the mystery like some detective at the end of a novel. “Not that I really believe Ty Walker was involved. Ike’s staff worships him, you know. They’re all a strait-laced bunch — duty calls and all that — which is why Ike can’t stand the OSS. What we do is too freewheeling for Ike. As for your friend Ty, he nearly got his head bashed in single-handedly chasing the assassin. Very brave — I’ll give him that — but stupid.”

Ty was hurt? There had been no mention of that in the note Eva received with the flowers. “Is he all right?”

“He’ll be OK,” Fleischmann said grudgingly. He took a gulp of champagne. “No, the captain would never conspire to kill Ike. But who knows what information he might divulge in the throes of passion, so to speak. A spy like you would be right there to milk it out of him and lap it up.”

“I don’t know what you are talking about.”

Fleischmann made a tut, tut sound. “I have other evidence, my dear. The War Department clerk who was spying… Bill Keller. He was bringing information to your house.”

Eva went cold all over. It was a feeling not unlike watching an opponent in a game of chess make a move that you realized too late was checkmate. Fleischmann had outsmarted her. He must have been watching the house. For how long? Not long enough to catch a glimpse of the sniper. But it was likely he had seen all he needed and probably guessed at the rest. Eva’s mind raced. Her whole world seemed to be crumbling around her. He knows. Still, she had no choice but to deny it. “You don’t know anything.”

“I expected you to insist that you were innocent. We both know better, don’t we, Eva? You’ve been spying on us by being a whore. Me, Ty Walker, that fool General Caulfield and God knows who else. Maybe even the paper boy. This whole time, you’ve been serving Nazi Germany on your back.” He grinned. “Even on your knees, sometimes.”

“You filthy Jew.” Eva nearly spit the words at him.

“That’s what you really think, isn’t it, you and all the rest of you Nazis. Blame the Jews. It’s always the Jews.” He took a step toward her, a nasty smile on his face. “This Jew outfoxed you, Eva. Now, you’d better do what I say or the same thing that happened to your friend Bill Keller will happen to you.”

“What are you talking about?” She felt herself grow cold, afraid of what she was about to hear.

“No point in playing dumb about him, either. We know he was spying, taking information about troop strength and supply orders. Someone who knew what they were looking at could start to build a picture of Allied plans out of that information.” He looked at her appraisingly. “I think you were only the conduit, Eva. Keller wanted you badly enough to steal information for you. The poor man was pathetic, the way he must have let you lead him on. But who did you give that information to? Who was your contact?”

“You are like one of those people who used to hunt witches. So sure of themselves. Yet the witches didn’t exist.”

Fleischmann chuckled and studied the bubbles in his champagne flute. “Lies and more lies. You’re good at it, aren’t you, Eva? You’re an actress, for God’s sake. Your friend Bill Keller didn’t have your style. But he did have the decency to hang himself with his shoelaces.”

Eva made a strangled noise and put her hand to her chest. Hanged himself? It was too horrible to imagine. Keller had been nothing to her, just another believer in the Nazi cause. Hardly a bold man, but brave enough, and he had been so careful. If he could be caught —

“What do you want from me?” Eva asked.

“Now we get down to it,” the colonel said, appearing very satisfied with himself. He poured them both more champagne, humming a little ditty as he did so. “Keller talked before he decided to shuffle off this mortal coil. Not a lot, mind you, but enough. What he said could be very damaging to certain individuals. Like you, Eva. I haven’t shared all this information with my colleagues. Your name, for instance. The question, mein leipchen , is what are you willing to do to stay on my good side?”

“Now we get down to it,” Eva said, echoing him.

That made him smile. “You will do two things for me. The first is that you will continue to pass along information I give you to your contact. It’s no secret to you by now that Eisenhower is planning an invasion of Europe within six months. If the Germans thought the invasion was to come at a particular place, the wrong place —”

“You want me to supply disinformation,” Eva said.

“Is that the term for it? See, you do know something about being a spy. Very good.”

Eva ignored that. “What else?” she asked, though she had already guessed.

“I want you to be my mistress, Eva. Mine alone. I can’t have you continue to gather pillow talk from fools like General Caulfield or Ty Walker, who, by the way, is a little young for you.”

“You have been watching the house,” Eva said, getting angry. The colonel had all but confirmed it.

He shrugged. “This is a dangerous game we’re playing, Eva. The stakes are very high.”

“I could ruin you,” she said. “One word to the right person — one word to your wife — and you will be ruined. What do you think the OSS would do if it found out you had been in bed all these months with a German spy?”

“For starters, they would be jealous,” he said. “Then they would endorse my plan to use you for our side — and they wouldn’t be nearly as nice about it.”

The colonel reached out his hand and Eva, almost involuntarily, took it in her own. Fleischmann’s hand was pink and soft as a raw sausage. He squeezed so hard that Eva winced. “We’re joined together now, you and I. There’s no point in fighting it.”

Eva stared at him, thinking it over. Had he really been able to so completely manipulate her? Maybe, just possibly, there was some way she would outsmart him. “I will need money,” she said, tilting her chin up in what she hoped was a regal pose. “I can’t live on nothing.”

“I have plenty of money,” he said. “Now let’s seal our new arrangement is the best way I know how.”

Still holding her hand, the colonel led her upstairs. Sipping from his glass of champagne, he watched as she undressed. Eva had never felt so self-conscious getting naked in front of him before, feeling as if her soul was being laid bare. Fleischmann eyed her appreciatively, used a finger dipped in champagne to wet her nipples, already hard from the cold, and then licked them. Eva shuddered in spite of herself. She reached out to unbutton his shirt, unbuckle his belt. She slid her hand down inside his trousers and fought the temptation to grab hold and squeeze. She caressed him instead. It was, she thought bitterly, the only way she had to manipulate him .