Carla Neggers - Cut and Run

Ryder’s reaction to Juliana Fall had been more visceral than to anyone he’d ever met in his life, but sensing Rachel Stein watching him, he tried to control it.

“Juliana’s quite a performer,” the old woman said quietly.

“Yes, amazing.” Ryder coughed as he fought to recover his composure, hoping this impossible woman didn’t notice how little he had left. “She’s an amazing talent.”

On stage, Juliana Fall took her bows alone, with the conductor, with the entire orchestra. Her smile was dazzling. Her shining hair flopped carelessly down the front of her shoulders as she gave her final bow. Ryder could almost feel its softness on his fingers.

“You must understand something, Senator Ryder,” Rachel said.

“Please-not now. In a moment.”

She ignored him. “Hendrik de Geer is the kind of man who would destroy Juliana Fall if he felt he had to to save himself.”

Ryder swung around. “No!”

“You heard me,” she said calmly.

Ryder swallowed, fighting himself. The manipulative little witch! But he couldn’t lose control, not now. Juliana Fall was an unexpected twist; he’d expected to find her as distasteful as her mother’s friend. Ryder was furious. This wasn’t at all what he’d planned! Rachel Stein was the one to have been caught off balance.

“Once I was young and beautiful and talented, as was Juliana’s mother,” Rachel said wistfully, “but Hendrik de Geer robbed us of that, he and his Nazi friends.”

I don’t care! Ryder thought wildly. He had to finish it now and regain the momentum. People were streaming into the aisle. “I’m very sorry about your past, Miss Stein, and I’m sympathetic to your suffering.” He paused, feeling his sense of control seeping back into him. Yes, he thought, I can handle this. “I wish I could help you bring this de Geer to justice, but I’m afraid there’s nothing I can do. I know a good deal less about him than you do yourself and have been unable to learn more. If you wish to bring charges against him for his actions in Amsterdam during Word War II, I can only encourage you, although I must warn you that you’re unlikely to get very far. Greater criminals than he have gone free. In any case, I have to tell you that what you choose to do from this point is your responsibility.”

Rachel Stein made no response. She simply nodded dully, as if she’d withdrawn into herself, as if she were sorry she’d ever believed in him or anyone else. Ryder brushed off the stirrings of pity. The woman’s maudlin, he told himself, and there is nothing I can do.

He added, “I only met de Geer that one time.” He sighed, lifting his shoulders in a helpless, innocent shrug. “As I told you, I had no idea of his Nazi past.”

“Then there’s no point in our meeting with Catharina going forward,” Rachel said tightly.

“I’d like to explain my position to her-”

“Why waste your time? In fact, why did you even bother with tonight if you knew you could do nothing? A telephone call would have been sufficient.”

“I felt the need to tell you in person, face to face. And I didn’t give up trying to get information on de Geer until right before the concert.”

Her dark, intense eyes shot up at him. “I don’t believe you, Senator. I should have known from the beginning that you would do nothing to help me. Hendrik de Geer is responsible for the deaths of twelve people, but they were not Florida voters, were they? Well, I am not ready to give in, not yet. You say you met Hendrik only that one time? All right. I will find out if you speak the truth. I will find out if there’s any connection between you and Hendrik de Geer.” She narrowed her eyes, her anger and determination palpable. “I will find out.”

Still fuming, she marched past him.

Sam Ryder watched the tiny, shattered woman disappear into the crowd drifting toward the lobby, but he didn’t dare relax. She would leave and accept that her threats were empty, but, nevertheless, Ryder no longer felt that telling Bloch about her had been such an act of weakness. Surely, though, she was intelligent enough to recognize her defeat. There’d be no more calls, no more visits, no more letters. He was sorry not to meet Catharina Fall, in case she would have been able to provide more leverage for him against de Geer, but at least he’d gotten rid of Rachel Stein. One tactical objective achieved. Now on to the next. The Dutchman would be waiting outside in Ryder’s car.

But Juliana Fall…

Ryder admitted he didn’t want to involve her in his difficulties, but he didn’t see that he’d have to. She was a pianist. Beautiful, unforgettable. He would just have to leave her out of it and concentrate on making de Geer do his bidding.

Yet, as he walked stiffly out into the aisle, he looked longingly back toward the stage. It seemed so empty. She was back there, somewhere, accepting congratulations, flowers.

De Geer can wait, he thought. You’re a United States senator. Use your influence.

He threw his coat over his arm and headed backstage.

Adrian Fall took his wife’s arm as she stumbled into the aisle. He was a tall, fair-skinned man with handsome, angular features, and she loved him dearly. He had come into her life just when she’d begun to believe she would never be able to love and trust anyone again, and he’d taken her away from Amsterdam, from her past, from her memories. He understood that these were things she couldn’t talk about. He never pressed her, just allowed her to be what she was. Together they’d spoiled and adored Juliana, building a new life, their own life. He was a quiet, dear, understanding man, but right now she wished he’d just stayed home tonight. He knew nothing of Rachel Stein, nothing of Hendrik de Geer. How could she explain to him?

“Catharina,” he said, worried, “what is it? Are you all right?”

She gulped for air, not seeing him. She was white, shaking all over. “Yes, fine, I just…” There wasn’t enough air! I’m going to faint. “A headache.”

“You’re hyperventilating. I think I’d better get you home.”

Home, she thought vaguely, trying to stop gulping for air now that Adrian had told her what was wrong. There was too much oxygen in her bloodstream already. Ah, Adrian, always so steady, so right. Her mother used to say the best cure for hyperventilation was a bag over the head. Oh, Mamma! Her mother would be strong now. She wouldn’t simply go home. She wouldn’t be tempted to lock herself in her rooms high above Park Avenue and never come out.

Catharina stretched herself and put a shaky hand to her mouth. My God, she thought, I’ve seen him too. Hendrik! She had sensed he would be here tonight. He had walked right past her, and she’d only caught a glimpse of him. It was enough. His face was seared in her memory.

She touched Adrian’s hand, letting his warmth anchor her in the present. She had to warn Rachel that Hendrik was here. That much she had to do, no matter her shock and fear. “I’m supposed to meet a friend,” she told her husband softly.

Adrian shook his head firmly, the stolid, practical banker. “You’re in no condition to meet anyone.”

Catharina looked down the aisle toward the seats where Rachel had sat with her senator. Rachel was gone already, and Senator Ryder-

“No!”

He was making his way backstage! Had Rachel misled her? Had she decided to involve Juliana after all? With a mad lunge, Catharina shot out into the aisle, but Adrian grabbed her by the waist, and she crumpled against him.

“Darling,” he said gently, “let me take you home.”

She was so grateful for her husband, for his goodness, but now she struggled against him, telling herself this time she had to fight, she had to go to her daughter and protect her from this. “Juliana-”