Len Deighton 3-Book War Collection Volume 1: Bomber, XPD, Goodbye Mickey Mouse. Len Deighton

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СКАЧАТЬ Hausfrauen of Altgarten gathered in Frau Birr’s tea-room each afternoon accompanied by their daughters in neat dark dresses and well-kept shoes. That’s why TENO officers, Army doctors and administration officials from the Amputee Centre liked to have tea here. Sometimes cavalry officers and veterinary surgeons, complete with spurs and riding-crops, came all the way from their depot near Kempen and set the ladies’ hearts aflutter.

      Hansl and Anna-Luisa shared a slice of Apfelstrudel. The coffee wasn’t too bad and Frau Birr could usually find a small glass of milk for the boy. The people in the big cities didn’t live as well as this, thought Anna-Luisa. Life seemed unbelievably sweet. Soon she would be Frau Bach, and the ladies in the tea-shop with their fruit-filled hats would have to nod in a way different from the condescending smiles they gave to the RAD girl.

      Frau Hinkelburg, the architect’s wife, was just as condescending as any of them but at least she was affable. This day she sat with Anna-Luisa and Hansl and told them all her news.

      There were always stories about the Russian prisoners of war in the disused factory beyond the brewery. The citizens of Altgarten were fascinated and a little afraid of these strange Bolshevik men from the far side of the world where so many young Germans were being sent.

      ‘They put two fierce guard dogs to keep the Russians inside the fence at night. Even the dog-handlers were wearing thick protective gloves. By the next morning the dogs had been cooked and eaten. Only the bones remained, they say. And those they carved into crucifixes.’

      Frau Hinkelburg paused long enough to cut a piece of cake and hurry it into her mouth. Anna-Luisa felt that she was expected to add something, but she kept her own wonderful news to herself to be gloated over and devoured slowly. Even before she’d swallowed her cake Frau Hinkelburg smiled at Anna-Luisa and began again.

      ‘Frau Kersten is going to put apple trees in the field behind the cemetery and she’s bought the land she leased from Richter. The money she must make from the potatoes.’ Frau Hinkelburg opened her fine new patent-leather handbag so that Anna-Luisa could clearly see its Paris label. From it she took a small lace handkerchief and brushed a cake-crumb from the corner of her mouth. ‘I heard that Frau Kersten has a leather box full of money hidden in her bedroom. She can’t bank it, they say, for fear of the tax department.’

      ‘Her farmhouse is being replastered.’

      ‘By the French prisoners of war,’ added Frau Hinkelburg. ‘Have you noticed the tall one with the tiny moustache?’

      ‘The one giving orders?’

      ‘He’s giving more than that, my girl, if the stories about him and Frau Kersten are true.’

      ‘But Frau Kersten is nearly fifty.’

      ‘Many a fine tune is played upon an old violin.’ Frau Hinkelburg laughed loudly and clamped her hand over her mouth in a gesture she believed refined. The diamonds on her hand caught the light. ‘Before the Frenchman, they say she was casting her eyes farther afield.’

      ‘What do you mean?’ said Anna-Luisa.

      ‘Your employer, my dear.’

      Anna-Luisa laughed good-naturedly.

      ‘You think that’s funny?’

      ‘But Herr Bach and that fat old Frau Kersten …’

      ‘Yes, Frau Kersten would be a lucky woman to have Herr Bach as a husband,’ admitted Frau Hinkelburg as she thought about it.

      ‘Any woman would be a lucky woman.’

      Frau Hinkelburg looked up sharply. Her ears were attuned to chance remarks and she never missed an innuendo. ‘Ach so!’ was all she said, but Anna-Luisa knew that one part of her secret was a secret no longer. Frau Hinkelburg put a freckled bejewelled hand upon Anna-Luisa’s thin white arm and smiled at her.

      ‘You were not here when the Wald Hotel was really a hotel. What a wonderful place! The chef was French, from Monte Carlo. People came from all corners of Europe – and from America too – to dine there and stay in the suites that face on to the gardens and the forest. There were floodlit fountains and an orchestra outside in the summer. They used to dance until two or three o’clock in the morning and the sound of the music could be heard right across the town on a still summer’s night. When I was a young girl I would open my bedroom windows and listen to the music and the voices of the fine people who left their motor-cars and chauffeurs waiting down there in Mauerstrasse. It will never be the same again.’

      ‘When the war is ended, perhaps …’

      ‘No, the world has changed since then. There is no place for romance now. Why, look at what the Wald Hotel is now used for.’

      ‘No one knows what it’s used for.’

      ‘I know,’ said Frau Hinkelburg. ‘My husband is an architect and he heard it from someone in the Burgomaster’s office.’ She leaned closer to emphasize the confidential nature of her theory. ‘It’s a human stud. Young carefully chosen Aryan girls are sent there to –’ she hesitated – ‘to have children by selected SS officers.’

      ‘How awful,’ said Anna-Luisa. She said it mechanically for she did not believe it.

      ‘Awful,’ agreed Frau Hinkelburg, ‘and yet fascinating. Is it not?’

      ‘There are so many stories about the men in the Wald Hotel.’

      ‘Because they so seldom emerge from the place.’

      ‘Probably,’ agreed Anna-Luisa.

      ‘Well, it’s understandable,’ said Frau Hinkelburg. ‘They have everything they want there, don’t they?’ She laughed coarsely; Anna-Luisa smiled.

      ‘Are you going anywhere tonight, Anna-Luisa?’

      ‘I have so much ironing to do.’

      ‘I thought you might be going to the Burgomaster’s birthday party at Frenzel’s. They are having Russian caviar and roast duckling. I am going.’

      ‘Herr Bach scarcely knows the Burgomaster.’

      ‘But his cousin Gerd knows him.’ She watched the girl carefully. ‘And you are a friend of Andi Niels, the Burgomaster’s secretary.’

      ‘He’s no friend of mine,’ said Anna-Luisa; ‘he’s horrid.’

      ‘He has a reputation,’ agreed Frau Hinkelburg, ‘but he wields a great deal of influence in this town. The girls with extra clothing-ration coupons … you’d never believe.’ She laughed again.

      ‘I have heard stories about him,’ said Anna-Luisa.

      ‘There are stories about everyone in this town. Small towns are always full of gossip. There are stories about you, even … you would laugh if you heard them.’

      ‘About me?’

      ‘It means nothing, child. A beautiful girl is bound to have stories told about her …’

      ‘In connection with whom?’ interrupted Anna-Luisa angrily.

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