City of the Sun (32 page)

The information was spinning around in Mickey’s head like a tornado. Whoever got the bomb first was going to win the war. “How far away are we?”

“Nobody knows. A year? Five years? We’re well into it.”

“Why is Blumenthal so important?”

“He wrote a paper on a new approach to nuclear fission. The paper interested Fermi, a lot. The president wants Blumenthal on our team.”

“Can another scientist from his French team continue his work?”

“Not really. None of them have Blumenthal’s expertise in this new area and would need a lot of time to catch up. Nothing has progressed since they arrived in England. The British, who are taking a different approach to starting a chain reaction, have not been funding their research.”

“I see,” Mickey said. “So the British would have no interest in Blumenthal?”

Kirk shook his head. “They don’t believe in the heavy water
approach. They think that fast, unmoderated neutrons would work best.” He sighed. “I’ve already told you more than I should. Dorothy is dead. Your life may already be in danger. Perhaps you should be leaving town.”

“I’ll take responsibility for my own life.” Mickey stood up and paced. “I’d like to talk to Donovan.”

“He won’t be available for ten days.”

“Ten days! I’d think this would be a top priority for him.”

“I’ve told you all I can, Mickey. We’re going to take it from here.”

“Well, I work for Donovan, and until he fires me, I’m not quitting,” Mickey said flatly. “Dorothy died because I lost that picture, and I’m going to find the son of a bitch who killed her.”

“I sent her to get the photo, so we can share the blame,” Kirk said, biting his lower lip.

“What I want to know is how in the world that bastard knew that Dorothy had Blumenthal’s picture.” He walked back to Kirk. “I need a gun, a Jeep, and more cash. And I want my press badge back.”

“Be careful, Mickey. Who knows what Dorothy might have revealed under duress,” he choked out before resuming in a more even tone. “You should assume that the spy already knows about you and is on your trail. And it may not just be your own life you’re putting in danger, but possibly those around you as well. You’ve seen how he operates.”

A chilling thought immediately occurred to Mickey: Would he be endangering Maya by seeing her again?

CHAPTER 30

It must have been the tenth outfit she’d tried on in the last two days in preparation for her date with Mickey on Wednesday. All that he had said was that it was a surprise and to meet him at the entrance to the Museum of Antiquities, next to the Khedive Ismail Bridge. She had no idea where he would be taking her and she was going crazy trying to be ready for anything. Lili had been an angel, coming up with all kinds of makeshift outfits from her own wardrobe and sewing up a storm. Maya finally settled on a blue skirt with polka dots and a white blouse, which she would wear with a white belt and high-heeled shoes if they were going to a nice restaurant, or without a belt and flats if they were going on a picnic. She’d take a large bag to carry the extra choices. In both cases she would wear the scarf she’d worn on their first date, which had been a big hit with him.

She and Lili had hatched their cover story, telling Allegra that they were going on an outing with the Judeo-Spanish club here in Heliopolis. They’d planned to go to downtown Cairo together and then split up. Lili would join Fernando at the cinema while Maya went off with Mickey.

She sat on Lili’s bed, trying to collect herself. In a few minutes they would be out of the house. Her mind had been continuously buzzing since that magical night on the yacht, savoring and replaying every word, touch, kiss, look, and
declaration they’d exchanged. It was rare for a man to openly discuss his feelings, and she was glad that he trusted her enough to talk about his ex-girlfriend. He had dared to let her glimpse the man inside, and she saw behind those lion eyes, the eyes of a child, curious and vulnerable. And playful, too. She loved the way he teased her. Here she was telling Lili not to trust love at first sight and that relationships took time to develop, yet she thought she was already in love herself.

But where was all this going? Where could it go? The timing couldn’t be worse. In a few weeks, she and her family would be in Palestine. And then what? She thought of all those romantic poets she’d read, from Goethe to Baudelaire, who glorified the pain of impossible love. Was that going to be her fate too? Once she would have reveled in the twisted pleasure of being a tortured soul, but she’d known suffering, and now she just wanted plain, simple happiness. But was it in the cards for her? She cracked her knuckles. She was nervous. Call her pessimistic, but she’d had a premonition all day that bad things might be in the offing.

It had started in the morning when she awoke to an unfamiliar, pungent odor and was greeted with thick, foul-smelling smoke in the hallway. She’d followed the fumes toward the living room, where she found Allegra and Sayeda swinging braziers of burning coal as they circled the furniture, chanting in Arabic. They looked like witches.

“That’s the
bokour
,” Lili had explained later. “It’s used to cast the evil eye out of the house.” What evil had befallen the house, Maya wondered. Is it us? She could not get any further explanation from Lili, but later Allegra locked herself in her room for the rest of the morning, complaining of a splitting headache. She had rudely declined Maya’s offer to bring her a cup of tea. Perhaps Allegra was still angry with Vati for reprimanding Soussou so sharply the day before when he’d found the boy playing with Mutter’s violin. He
had nearly brought the child to tears, but Vati later apologized and helped him with his clarinet. Nevertheless, it was clear that something was going on when Joe, who had left the house hurriedly after an agitated phone call early in the morning, had not returned home for lunch as he always did. All the while, the hot desert winds of the
khamseen
were blowing hard, which was unusual for this time of year.

If this weren’t unsettling enough, Maya had only been able to reach Mickey once in three days, and they’d only spoken briefly as she’d caught him dashing out the door.

Enough, enough, enough! Maya had to control this nonstop worrying mind of hers. All was well, she assured herself. To make herself cheerful, she started humming the French song Mickey had sung on the yacht. She went to the dresser and was putting some perfume on when the door opened and Lili appeared, frazzled and wild-eyed.

“You’d better go to the living room,” she said. “Your brother and my father are having a big fight.”

“Your father? He’s here?” Maya repeated, her heart sinking. This could spoil her plans for the afternoon. “What are they fighting about?” she asked.

“Palestine,” Lili said in a hushed voice. “They kicked me out of the room.”

Maya’s heart sank. The subject seemed to be a taboo in this house, with Joe and Allegra always avoiding it. She feared that Erik had exhausted his patience and was going to confront their hosts about what was going on with their papers. She shared his frustration, but did not want to rock the boat. It had been such a long ordeal getting here, and she felt very vulnerable. They were stateless, with only temporary visitors’ papers, and were very frightened by the rapid German advance toward Cairo. Making matters worse, there seemed to be no place in the world that would accept
Jewish refugees. Perhaps Erik’s colleagues in England could help them again as they had with Turkey, but the visa process would take months with no assurance as to the outcome. The Jewish Agency in Istanbul had tried to get them visas for Palestine, but they were told there would be no exceptions to the British freeze on immigration.

But while their efforts at the Jewish Agency had failed to win a visa, they had won them an ally. A woman who worked there had taken notice of them and, impressed with Erik’s credentials, had clandestinely sought them out. “How badly do you want to go to Palestine?” she’d asked. Erik, who had been voraciously reading Zionist literature, answered without hesitation—very badly. He was convinced that assimilation would not succeed anywhere in the world, and that a Jewish homeland in Palestine was the only solution. The woman had been pleased with his response. She could make no guarantees but said that she was connected to a “highly reliable and effective” network of Zionists in Egypt. There would be risks involved, and they would surely be interned by the British if caught, but Erik had wanted to take the gamble. He did not feel secure at all in so-called neutral Turkey, because of its uncomfortable amount of “friendly” communication with Germany. He had feared a Vichy-type regime would emerge there too. Yes, their best hope would be illegal immigration to Palestine—
Aliyah Bet
. But now they were faced with this inexplicable delay.

Maya wiped off some of her lipstick with a handkerchief and headed for the living room.

Joe, who usually spoke with great equanimity, could be heard through the closed doors, and when she entered, he was visibly emotional. “Are the Jews a tribe? A people? Yes. Do they need a homeland? Probably yes. But does it have to be in Palestine? No.”

“Palestine is the homeland of many—the Christians, the Muslims, the Jews …” Allegra said, holding her belly. “It does not really belong to any one people—it belongs to everyone.”

“The English made a promise to us,” Erik replied, “and they were the rightful governors of the land.” He was sitting on the edge of the settee, Vati next to him.

“Yes, the Balfour Declaration, but they made that very same promise to the Arabs!” Joe countered.

“Forget the English. It has always been our land,” Vati shouted, the veins in his temples throbbing.

“That was long ago,” Joe retorted. “Let’s talk about the realities of today. We’ve had nothing but trouble with the Arabs there. How much more blood must be spilled?”

Just then, the laughter of the children was heard in the hallway as they returned from school with Sayeda.

“Shh,” Allegra hissed. “Quiet, please. I don’t want the children to hear this.”

“Why not?” Vati exclaimed. “Your children should know where they come from and they should learn to be proud of it,” Vati continued, his voice less strident. “Why not, when German children are taught about their Aryan superiority in kindergarten? Perhaps none of this is what you want to hear, but where will your family go when the Germans invade Egypt?”

Allegra’s face flushed. “The Germans are not going to invade Egypt, monsieur. The English will stop them. We understand you, but Egypt is our home and we will never leave. We have no problems with the Egyptians.”

“What about the looting of your stores and the burning of your synagogues, madame?” Erik interjected. “I see how you ignore it, like my parents did when it happened in my country.” His words cut the tension in the room like a knife.

Joe lowered his eyes, while Allegra looked away and stroked her belly.

“What you see now is only the beginning, I promise you,” Vati
warned. “For two thousand years we have tried to gain acceptance in other countries, only to be met with contempt and violence.”

“I am not religious,” Erik proclaimed, “but as long as there will be anti-Semitism, I will be a Jew. Please understand, we are one-hundred percent committed to emigrating to Palestine, but this delay is agonizing to us. I do not wish to offend you, but we need to know what’s holding things up. Please be honest with us. This is our lives.”

Joe and Allegra exchanged nervous looks as a heavy silence fell over the room.

Maya walked to a chair next to the settee and sat down. “What happened this morning?” she asked bluntly. “Something happened.”

Joe exchanged another weary look with his wife, who nodded her acquiescence. He bent forward and interlaced his fingers before speaking. “After Hassan al-Banna’s escape from jail, they found a list of fifteen names in the home of one of the members of the Muslim Brotherhood. Most belong to the underground Zionist network we are in touch with. The police thought it was a list of targets for assassination. They were right. Three weeks ago one of them was murdered. Today, another was found dead.” He swallowed hard and continued, “The man helping you is also on that list.”

Maya felt sick. She realized that by helping them, their hosts were now also in jeopardy. Of course Joe and Allegra were scared. “We won’t put you in danger one more night,” she said. “We’ll pack and leave this evening.”

“Nonsense. You’re not going anywhere,” Joe immediately objected. “You will stay with us until your papers are finalized. We will be fine. We have no overt connection to Zionist activities, and very few people know about us. Those who do can be trusted. As for the man on the list who is helping you, he is not one who can be intimidated.”

He stood behind his wife and placed his hands on her shoulders.
“Being Jewish is complicated for my wife and me,” he continued. “Our religion is Judaism, but our citizenship is French, and our homeland is Egypt. My family does not share your politics, but we want to bring you to safety. If you wish to go to Palestine, you can count on our help.” He looked at each of the Blumenthals with an unwavering gaze.