Death in Twilight (12 page)

And special tonight, something a little more dangerous: guns.

“Maybe I should try the sweater on,” Aaron suggested. “See if it fits.”

“Maybe you should.”

Of course, in order to make sure the fit was right, he needed to remove his coat, and then a layer or two more. It was enough to reveal the shape of his body, even though there was hardly more than starlight filling the room.

“Oh my God,” she said. “How can you possibly look thinner than the last time I saw you?”

Aaron felt slightly ashamed, though he knew she spoke only out of concern.

“I eat better than most,” he said. “Thanks to you. Let’s not talk about it, we haven’t much time, anyway.”

She reached for him.

Afterward, it was a matter of quickly putting back on the few clothes they’d taken off. The room was freezing and there was no time to spend drowsing in each other’s arms.

As Aaron reached for his coat, Yelena surveyed him one more time in the dim light. She thought she saw something in his posture beyond the hunger, the pressure and the unrelenting grimness of the life he lived while she was on the other side of the wall.

“Got something on your mind?” she asked, trying to keep her tone light.

He laughed.

“What, you mean besides the ghetto and the Nazis?”

“Besides that.”

“I can’t think of anything.”

He smiled.

“Come on. I can see it,” she said.

“We should get back downstairs. No way to know when the others will arrive,” Aaron replied.

She grabbed his arm as he turned toward the door.

“You might as well tell me. What am I going to do, worry?”

Aaron couldn’t think of a way to argue against that.

“The Judenrat’s got me investigating a murder,” he said.

Yelena looked genuinely shocked.

“A murder? In the middle of this massacre?”

“One of the Jewish Police turned up dead late last night, maybe early this morning. I actually stumbled across him on my way home. Anyway, my father apparently told Zimmerman what I used to do for a living,” Aaron said. “So, they dropped it in my lap.”

“So what? Why would you care?”

“I don’t, but their ultimatum was pretty good. They threatened to shut us down.” He took her hand and squeezed it. “There are a lot of reasons I wouldn’t want that to happen.”

“Me, too,” she said, squeezing back.

“Actually, you might be able to help, if you’re willing.”

“Willing is such a strong word … ”

He pinched her and she yelped.

“Okay, okay,” she giggled. “What do you need?”

“I’m told the man who was killed — his name was Lev Berson — was involved in some kind of smuggling,” Aaron said. “He was partners with Tamislaw Jaruzelski, who turns out to have also been named Gersh.”

“What? I don’t think I get all that.”

“It’s confusing the hell out of me, so I’d be surprised if you did. Turns out the Jaruzelski we were dealing with was also a man named Gersh who worked in the Jewish Police,” Aaron said. “I have no idea which identity came first.”

“Why don’t you ask him?”

“He’s dead. Just a few hours ago.”

“Killed by the same person?”

“No, and that’s one thing I’m sure of.”

Aaron explained what had happened at Breslaw Hospital.

“Jesus,” Yelena said. To Aaron, she sounded nearly out of breath.

“Yeah, it’s been quite a day.”

“Jesus,” she said again. “I have to say, I was wrong. You look remarkably good for a day like that.”

She paused.

“Aaron, I think it’s time for you to leave Miasto,” she said. “Come with me, tonight.”

“You know I want to,” Aaron replied. “God knows this is the last place I want to be.”

“So, come with me.”

“I can’t yet. Soon.”

“Soon?”

“I promise,” Aaron said. “Let’s finish what we started, then I’ll go.”

He sat up.

“Are you sure Andrusz will be here tonight?” he asked.

“He promised,” Yelena said.

“And we need him? I would have preferred to keep this to just the normal crew.”

“Unfortunately, he’s the one with the connections,” Yelena replied. “If you want guns, you need him.”

“Okay, I trust you.”

“I should hope so!” She played affronted. “I don’t know many other women who would do something like this for their husbands.”

“I didn’t mean it that way!” Aaron said quickly, not getting the joke. Words stumbled out of his mouth. “Life behind this wall … it doesn’t make any sense. The good guys are the bad guys … Hell, there aren’t any good guys. Nothing, nobody is ever clean.”

Yelena reached for his hand.

“I love you, Aaron,” she said, trying to quiet him. “Don’t doubt that.”

“I don’t. I love you, too.”

“Even when you don’t need something?” she said, teasing again.

He took a deep breath, even laughed a little.

“Even then,” he said.

They took one more moment for themselves, slowly breaking their embrace. It was time to re-enter the war.

When Teitel saw them come down the stairs to the basement, he didn’t bother to hide his somewhat mocking smile.

“Were you able to agree on the terms?” he asked.

“Yes, I think everything worked out quite satisfactorily,” Yelena said.

“Oh. That sounds a little disappointing. I always hope for better than satisfactory with most of my deals,” Teitel said. “I guess you take what you can get in wartime.”

The others chuckled. Aaron colored slightly. Yelena’s skin retained its normal whiter shade of pale.

“No signal from anyone, yet?” Aaron asked.

“We haven’t heard anything. Not a peep,” Boris replied.

“Why don’t we get comfortable?” Aaron suggested, huddling down against one wall.

Teitel brought out a second bottle, schnapps this time. Yelena passed around a pack of cigarettes. Everyone smoked and drank quietly for a few minutes.

“I should have brought sandwiches,” Yelena said.

“It would have been nice. Or a kielbasa. I haven’t had a decent kielbasa in a million years,” Boris said, licking his lips.

“Treif!” Teitel said.

“You’d really quibble over a little pork at this point? What’s wrong with you?”

Boris’ eyes were wide in mock amazement.

“Don’t mock a holy man,” Aaron said. “Even if he’s a holy hypocrite.”

Teitel struggled to lean over far enough to swat Aaron, but couldn’t quite make it and gave up.

The room was quiet for a little while. One of the lanterns sputtered and went out.

Aaron turned to Yelena.

“How much longer until we should be worried?” he asked.

“Soon,” she said.

One more round of cigarettes, and then came the distinct sound of rubble crumbling under boots. A voice called out.

“Yelena?”

“Here.”

An enormous man bent nearly double and poked his head through the hole. Seeing no obvious signs of danger, he came under the ledge and stood up in the dim room.

“Everything good?” he asked.

“We’re fine here. Start bringing the stuff through,” Yelena said.

The tall Pole climbed back up and soon returned with several others who carried sacks containing flour and potatoes and even onions. A short queue of wheelbarrows followed with more produce, beets, turnips, parsnips. All and everything was welcomed by the Jews in the basement, their eyes nearly as ravenous as their stomachs.

Finally, luxury items. The cigarettes, the booze. Tins of meat, some of it no doubt spoiled. It would be eaten anyway.

Last and most dangerous, guns.

Not many. Rusty rifles with a few rounds of ammunition each. The Polish Army hadn’t been the best equipped in Europe in 1939 — it contained many brave, gallant cavalry officers, after all — but the weapons that entered the basement looked as if they’d been old in the previous war.

“No muskets?” Teitel joked.

“Don’t worry. These are just as likely to blow up in your face,” replied one of the Poles who was going back up for a last load.

Finally, the procession ended and the room was nearly full.

Yelena and two of her men came and stood over the chests the Jewish team had assembled. Aaron handed her the satchel with cash first.

“How much?”

“All told? About one hundred thousand zloty. Plus the gold,” Teitel said. “I can’t give you a better number because I don’t know what gold’s worth in the real world, anymore.”

Yelena spilled the gold out into her hand. Teitel hadn’t been joking earlier; along with coins of several sizes, there were a few teeth with gold and silver fillings.

“Good,” Yelena said. “And the trunks?”

Teitel opened them.

Inside one was the gold menorah, some other gold items and many that were silver. The menorah might have come from a rich family’s house or been taken from a synagogue as Jews fled the German advance. Every item bore unreadable memories that stretched back over generations.

Inside the other chest was the rich pile of furs, stoles and coats. Enough to keep the cold at bay even on a journey to the North Pole. Most of what was there could have been mistaken for new. The labels were all from the best Jewish furriers.

Everything had been given to Aaron’s gang a piece at a time, to pay for a few potatoes, maybe enough flour for a week’s worth of bread. People bought what little they could with everything they had.

Yelena nodded.

“This is fine, though I think I could probably live without the furs.”

“Oh, please, even members of the master race need to stay warm,” Teitel said. “But there’s one more item I want to show you.”

He pulled back the bottom fur and picked up the glittering thing beneath. Aaron nodded as he saw it.

Yelena and the other Poles were transfixed. It was a gold plate suspended from a chain as if it were a necklace, except this bauble was the size of a small breastplate from a suit of armor. It was encrusted by gems of many kinds, and Hebrew letters were picked out in gold filigree.

“Holy shit!” one of the Polish men said.

“Very holy shit,” Aaron said wryly.

“What is it?” Yelena asked?

Teitel explained.

“It’s a ceremonial covering for a Torah. This one was made a long time ago in a town that might not even exist anymore,” he said. “Gorgeous, isn’t it?”

“Well, thank you for throwing it in!” a huge blond Pole — Andrusz — said, laughing.

“Not exactly,” Aaron said. “This is a separate deal. This isn’t just for a few groceries and a some rusty carbines.”

“You need those groceries,” the Pole pointed out, while Yelena stood quietly aside.

“Yes, but this is special. There isn’t anything else like it in the whole ghetto,” Teitel said, speaking directly to the big man.

“Okaaaay.” Andrusz tortured the word. “What do you want for it?”

“Guns,” Aaron said. “Real guns. Ones that’ll fire more than two shots without jamming. And ammunition that’s more of a danger to the Germans than it is to us,” Aaron said.

Yelena nodded.

“I spoke with Aaron about this before you got here, Andrusz,” Yelena said. “I thought you might be able to help get this done.”

“Very hard to find,” Andrusz said, thoughtfully.

“Impossible?” Aaron asked.

Andrusz concentrated for a second.

“Not impossible,” he said slowly. “No, not impossible, but nearly. How many would you need?”

“Fifty.”

“No way. Maybe ten. Maybe.”

“Thirty.”

“I might be able to make it twenty-five, but it’s going to cost more than one nice piece of gold,” the Pole said, though his eyes wouldn’t leave the object.

“We didn’t mention that it comes with two matching crowns that sit on the handles of the Torah scroll?” Teitel asked. He loved to haggle and always kept something in reserve.

“You didn’t,” Andrusz said, considering.

“Do it,” Yelena said.

“I’ll need some time,” Andrusz said.

Aaron nodded, but betrayed no emotion.

“Good!” Teitel said. “Tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow? You’re insane.”

“I might have forgotten to mention that there’s also a cloth-of-gold covering that goes over the whole scroll. It has rubies on it.” Teitel smiled openly now. He loved to see the avarice on a mark’s face.

“Tomorrow,” Andrusz said. He nodded very slowly to himself. “It should be possible.”