The Children's War (16 page)

Once Heiner had closed the door and they were alone, he wasted no time on old-fashioned manners or shyness. He almost lunged at Julia, pulling at her buttons as he kissed her passionately and rolled her onto the couch. Soon they were both gasping and panting and grasping at each other, but for all the noise and
bother, not much was accomplished. Heiner had simply had too much to drink. Even Julia was feeling slightly woozy, and soon they both gave up on the idea and ended up clasped in each other’s sweaty arms, passionately sleepy and verging on hungover.

Once Heiner was fast asleep, Julia extricated herself from his arms. She dressed quickly, then took a moment to extract his wallet from his pants. She took what would be considered a typical, hefty fee and left the rest. It was the best way to avoid either suspicion of her motives or a police report of theft, and besides, the money would come in handy. She crept quietly out of the room only to meet one of Heiner’s comrades in the hallway.

“Hey, I know you!” he shouted.

Julia cringed at his loudness. “Shh!” she advised, waving her hand wildly. Was it possible he recognized her from her years working in the RSHA? It was long in the past, but his accusation sent shudders down her spine.

“You’re that pickpocket,” he said artfully.

Oh, it was only a ploy to get free sex in exchange for not turning her in to the police. Naturally, no one wanted to undergo an investigation, and any prostitute was a ripe target for such blackmail. Julia smiled her relief. She eyed her goodlooking blackmailer from head to toe and her smile broadened. “Look,” she said, “let’s skip the nonsense. I’ll make you a deal. You let me enjoy it, no tough stuff, and I’ll happily give you a good fuck, gratis.”

“You’ve got it!” he agreed, and together they went off and satisfied each other.

“Where the hell have you been?” her partner, Romek, hissed at her from the hallway near the women’s toilet.

A women’s toilet—ha!—and women weren’t even supposed to be admitted to the club! Fucking typical, Julia thought. The hypocrisy was transparent; all one had to do was never question the world order. “Got delayed,” she answered tersely. “And just because I’m playing this role does not mean you can forget that I am your commanding officer. Got that?”

“Sorry, ma’am,” her apprentice apologized sheepishly. “I was just worried.”

“Where’s your equipment?”

“I left it near the basement entrance.” He had gained access to the club via the service entrance, presenting credentials that had convinced the staff he was attending to a possible gas leak deep in the bowels of the building. “There has been a slight but unexpected drop in pressure detected at our distribution junction,” he had told them. “We’re checking out all the buildings in the neighborhood. Probably due to the construction. Not an emergency, yet, but I’ll let you know if the building needs to be evacuated.”

They collected the tools and descended into the basement together. “Where is it?” Romek asked.

Julia paced around, mentally measuring the room and matching it to the plans she had studied. “I’m not sure,” she answered, then indicating a spot on the floor, she said,“Move those boxes and cut into the floor there.”

She retreated to a corner of the room, swiped the dirt away from a box, and sat down as her companion began his work. Reaching into her purse, she pulled out a file and began working on her nails. Romek glanced at her but did not comment. Once he had cut out the floorboards and pried them up, they surveyed the hole together. About a meter beneath them was another floor. They both climbed into the crawl space and snooped around. Finally they found what they were looking for: an ancient trapdoor that led into the cistern hidden below.

Side by side, on their hands and knees, they peered downward into the damp gloom of the empty cistern. “Don’t they know this is here?” Romek asked.

Julia shook her head. “It’s not centered under this building, so I think it’s from an earlier building that was renovated down to ground level. I usually got into there from the house next door, the one they’re demolishing, then I’d crawl along until I was under this building.” She shined her flashlight into the cistern, illuminating a nondescript box in a dark corner. “See? There it is!”

Her partner nodded. “Do you think they’ll find it now that they’ve torn down the other house?”

Julia shrugged.“Maybe. They seem to be stopping at the foundation, but if they do find it, well, it’s just one of many.” She laughed lightly. “We plant two for every one they uncover. This whole city is full of our little weeds just waiting to grow!”

“And how many of our people do we lose keeping it that way?” Romek asked, apparently irked by her lack of seriousness.

Julia laughed again and looked down at the deterrent. “Oh, over the years they’ve been here, I’d say each one has cost us about three lives. Pretty expensive blackmail, isn’t it?”

“Especially since we haven’t really used them yet,” he said, shuddering and looking over his shoulder to the hole in the floor above them.

“Not really. Just a few samples to show we mean business.” Julia smiled at her companion’s nervousness and then said impishly, “Interestingly, this bomb hasn’t cost us anyone yet—so by the law of averages, it’s due, isn’t it?”

Romek looked at her in alarm and she laughed. “Don’t worry, if they find us here and drag us out, they won’t kill you right away. I’m sure they’ll manage to prolong your life for days, weeks even.”

“Shall we get to work?” he asked, deadpan.

Julia reached into her bag and extracted the cigarette case. She pried off the bottom and handed the metallic card to her companion. Then she lit a cigarette and lowered herself so that she was lounging on the floor next to the trapdoor, languidly holding the flashlight so that it illuminated the cistern. “Sure. You know what to do.”

Using a rope, Romek climbed down into the cistern and approached the bomb. He worked in silence with Julia occasionally offering advice and reminders. He installed the new detonator, checked and corrected some of the settings, recorded some data, cleaned the contacts, and replaced a bit of rotted wire. “Done,” he announced quietly.

“Shh!” Julia hissed as she switched off the light. They remained silently in the darkness, listening to the sound of someone opening the door to the room above them.

“Bugger,” Julia whispered, extinguishing her cigarette hurriedly.

“Who’s down there?” a voice called through the hole in the floor.

“It’s me. I’m checking a gas line,” Romek called out.

“In the dark?” A face stared blindly into the darkness.

Julia turned on the flashlight and shined it in the direction of the hole. “I’ve got a light,” her partner explained.

“Are you okay down there?” It sounded like one of the waiters rather than a security guard.

“Sure. Just doing my job. I’ll be out in a few minutes.”

“Is that smoke? Are you smoking? I thought there was a gas leak!” the voice nearly shrieked.

“No, everything’s okay. Don’t worry,” Romek answered.

“All right. Make sure you put these boxes back—they’re in the way here.”

“Will do!”

As Romek made appropriate banging noises, Julia remained very still. The sounds from above indicated their visitor had left. They waited a moment, then Julia cautiously poked her head out the hole. She glanced around the room and then popped back under. “All clear,” she announced as she went to help Romek up the rope.

Back in the little cellar room, they replaced the floorboards, cleaned up the sawdust, and stacked the boxes on top of the hole they had made. “It’s going to have to do,” Julia announced. “We didn’t come prepared to build secret entrances, after all.”

Julia cleaned herself up and the two of them parted company. She climbed the stairs back to the main floor, wincing as she stepped into the glare of the hallway lights.

“What have you been up to?” a voice accused. “You’re not supposed to be down there.”

Julia cursed silently, stumbled, and fell into a drunken stupor on the floor. She heard the voice moan, “Oh, God, not another one,” as hands reached under her arms and lifted her up. She was half-carried, half-dragged to a lounge and laid out on one of the couches. Whoever had discovered her lost interest and walked away as soon as she was safely tucked onto the couch. Julia waited a few minutes, then blearily pried an eye open and scanned her surroundings. There were a few more besotted souls, several people conversing in a corner, and another two sitting in chairs smoking. She climbed unsteadily to her feet, made a quiet retching noise, and staggered to the door. Although her steps steadied the farther she got from the lounge, she maintained a rather drunken walk until she was several blocks from the club. There she stopped to light a cigarette and turn discreetly around to inspect the trail behind her. She was alone.

It was well past curfew and she knew she should move on quickly; nevertheless, she stood there for several moments deciding what to do. Shower first, change clothes, send Romek on his way, then Paris. With that decided, she headed back to her hotel.

The city looked even grittier than the last time. Julia felt a pang of sorrow and yearning for a place she had never known. Her father talked about Paris though he also did not remember it any more than he remembered what the smoldering ruin of Warsaw had once looked like. In both instances though, he had stories from his parents and he had passed on their impressions to his daughter. In the case of Warsaw, there was nothing to return to—it was gone, ruined, completely leveled, but with Paris there was still the shell of the city that her grandparents had loved. Beautiful, lively, welcoming, the City of Lights. Julia walked along its streets noting that the lights were a lot more red than the last time she had visited. Prostitutes paced and their clients prowled as Paris bowed to the needs of its masters. Having lost all political and economic power, it was now nothing more than the entertainment center for a hypocritical and sexually frustrated Reich.

Julia reached an intersection and consulted the hand-drawn map that she clutched in her fist. With only a bit of subterfuge, she had managed to ferret out Karl’s address, and with her standard German papers, it had not taken much to arrange a legitimate trip to the city as a tourist. Now came the hard part. She entered the hallway of the apartment block and ascended the steps without being stopped or questioned. She rapped lightly at the door of Karl’s apartment and waited.

Karl himself opened the door. He was dressed in a dark satin robe. His hair was still blond, still thick. His blue eyes were still clear, but he had gained weight and he was considerably less attractive than he had once been. “Yes?” he asked, eyeing Julia from head to toe.

Julia glanced past him into the apartment and saw that it was empty. She looked back at Karl and smiling enticingly said, “Don’t you recognize me?”

Karl frowned, stared at her a moment longer, than said, “Julia? My God, you look good!”

“So do you,” she lied. The lack of a servant worried her. Was Karl broke?

“Come in. What brings you to Paris?”

“I was visiting,” Julia explained as she took a seat on the couch, “and I spotted you walking. I’m afraid I followed you home that evening, but didn’t have the courage to knock at your door until now.”

Karl accepted the explanation without comment. He offered his guest a cognac, then poured one for himself.

“I’ve missed you,” Julia said, sipping her drink. She kicked off her shoes and tucked her legs up onto the cushion.

“You just disappeared from my life. What happened?”

“You know, you were married, I was pregnant—there was no future in it.”

“Did you keep the baby?” Karl asked almost without interest. His eyes were fixed on Julia’s breasts.

“Yes. You have a son, a fine young man now.”

Karl nodded as if listening to a long speech.

“He’s missed having a father though,” Julia said, laying a foundation upon which she would build later. “It’s easy for a boy to get into trouble, especially at his age.”