The Ring (14 page)

That's all we need. She glared at Ariana disapprovingly. She did not like the high-handed way the girl had been behaving at all. At nineteen, she may have been a grown woman, but not as far as Fr+nulein Hedwig was concerned. Tell him he owes me an explanation for hiding like this, like a spoiled schoolboy, in his room.

I'll tell him, Fr+nulein Hedwig.

See that you do. She stalked off again, this time ascending to her own room on the fourth floor. And twenty minutes later Ariana heard another determined knock on the sitting room door. Expecting to see Hedwig, she opened the door with a strained smile. But this time it was Berthold, still panting from his long climb up two flights of stairs.

It's a phone call from your father's office. Apparently it's urgent. Will you come down? For an instant Ariana hesitated should she leave her guard post? But after all, Hedwig had already been staved off. For a few minutes it would be safe. She hurried after Berthold and took the call in the alcove in the main hall.

Yes?

Fr+nnlein von Gotthard? It was Frau Gebsen, her father's secretary at the bank.

Yes. Is something wrong? Perhaps she had some word of her father? Had there been some change of plans?

I don't know ' I'm sorry ' I don't mean to worry you, but your father' I assumed ' He mentioned something when he left yesterday morning. I rather thought that he was with the Minister of Finance, but I realize now that he was not.

Are you quite sure? Perhaps he had some other meeting. Does it matter?

I'm not quite sure. We had an urgent call from Munich, and I had to reach him, but he wasn't there. The minister is in Paris, and he has been all week.

Then maybe you misunderstood him. Where is he now? Her heart was pounding.

That's why I called. He didn't come in this morning, and if he wasn't with the Minister of Finance, then where is he? Do you know?

Of course not. He's probably at some other meeting. I'm sure he'll call you later.

But he hasn't called all day, fr+nulein. And she sounded vaguely embarrassed, after all Ariana was still young "Berthold said he didn't come home last night.

Fran Gebsen, may I take leave to remind you that my father's nocturnal whereabouts are none of your concern, or Berthold's, or my own. Proper outrage shook her voice, or so it seemed; in point of fact it was raw fear.

Of course, fr+nulein. I must apologize, but the call from Munich ' and I was concerned, I thought perhaps he'd met with an accident. It's unusual for your father not to call.

Unless he's in a secret meeting, Frau Gebsen. The Minister of Finance can't be the only man of importance with whom my father disappears. I really don't understand why this is so important. Simply tell them in Munich that momentarily he can't be reached, and as soon as he gets home, I'll have him call you. I'm sure it won't be long.

I do hope you're right.

I'm quite certain of it.

Very well, then please ask him to call.

I shall.

Ariana hung up gingerly, hoping that her terror didn't show as she marched with proper outrage back up the stairs. But she paused on the first landing to catch her breath before continuing upstairs. And when she reached the second landing, she saw the door to the sitting room ajar. Hurriedly, she pushed it open, only to find Berthold and Hedwig in grim conference in front of her brother's open door.

What are you doing here? She almost shouted it.

Where is he? Hedwig's voice was an accusation, her eyes cold as ice.

How do I know? He's probably hiding somewhere downstairs. But as I recall, I distinctly asked you

And where is your father? Now it was Berthold's turn.

I beg your pardon. My father's whereabouts are none of my business, Berthold, nor yours. But as she faced them, her face went deathly pale. She prayed that her voice wouldn't tremble and give her away to Hedwig, who knew her so well. And as for Gerhard, he's probably gone off somewhere. He was here the last time I looked.

And when was that? Hedwig's eyes filled with suspicion. That boy has never made his bed in his life.

I made it for him. And now, if you would both be good enough to excuse me, I would like to take a nap.

Certainly, fr+nulein. Berthold bowed with precision and he signaled Hedwig to follow him from the room. When they had left her, Ariana sat pale and trembling in Gerhard's favorite chair. Oh, God, what would happen now? With her hands pressed to her mouth and her eyes closed, a thousand terrifying images ran helter-skelter through her head. But none of them as terrifying as what happened half an hour later when there came a firm knock on her door.

Not now, I'm resting.

Are you really, fr+nulein? Then you must excuse this intrusion into your private rooms. The man who spoke to her was not a servant, but a full lieutenant of the Reich.

I beg your pardon. She stood up in astonishment as he strolled in. Had they come for Gerhard? What was he doing here? And not just the lieutenant she saw as he wandered confidently into the room that there were three more soldiers walking up and down her third-floor hall.

I'm afraid I must beg your pardon, fr+nulein.

Not at all, Lieutenant. She stood up with a decided presence, smoothing her soft blond hair into the tidy figure-eight chignon she wore. She dropped a dark blue cashmere sweater around her shoulders and attempted to walk unhurriedly toward the door. Would you care to talk downstairs?

Certainly. He nodded pleasantly. You can pick your coat up on the way.

My coat? Her heart was pounding.

Yes. The captain thought we might get down to business more quickly if you came to see him at his office, rather than playing tea party with you here. His eyes glittered unpleasantly and she found herself hating his steely gray eyes. This man was to very core a Nazi, from the lapels of his uniform to the depths of his soul.

Is something wrong, Lieutenant?

Perhaps, We will let you explain that to us. Had they caught Gerhard and her father then? But no, it couldn't be. She wouldn't allow herself to believe that as she followed him, seemingly calm, to the second floor, and then she understood. They had come to question her, but they knew nothing. Not yet. And she mustn't tell them, No matter what.

And you thought your father was in a secret meeting, Fr+nulein von Gotthard? Really? How interesting. With whom? Captain Dietrich von Rheinhardt looked her over with interest. She was a very pretty piece. Hildebrand had told him as much before he escorted her into the room. And a cool one, for a girl so young. She looked totally unruffled, a lady from the top of her shining blond head to the tips of her black-alligator-clad feet With whom did you say you thought your father was meeting? This had gone on for almost two hours, ever since they escorted her from the big black Mercedes onto the K+|nigsplatz, over which rose the forbidding six-columned splendor of the Reichstag, and then hastily into the building and this impressive-looking room. It was the office of the commanding officer, and it had chilled many before her, to the very bone. But she showed no terror, no anger, no exasperation. She merely answered their questions, politely, calmly, and with that unshakably ladylike manner, again, and again, and again.

I have no idea whom my father was meeting with, Captain. He doesn't share his professional secrets with me.

And do you think he has secrets?

Only in terms of the work he does for the Reich.

How charmingly said. And then as he sat back and lit a cigarette, Would you care for some tea? For a moment she wanted to snap at him that they had said they didn't want to play tea party, which was why they had brought her here, but she simply shook her head politely.

No, thank you, Captain.

Some sherry perhaps?

The amenities were wasted on Ariana. She could not be put at ease here, with a life-size portrait of Hitler staring her in the face.

No, thank you, Captain.

And these secret meetings of your father's?' Tell me about those.

I didn't say he had secret meetings. I just know that on some evenings he comes home rather late. She was growing tired, and in spite of herself, the strain was slowly beginning to show.

A lady perhaps, fr+nulein?

I'm sorry, Captain, I don't know.

Of course not. How rude of me to suggest it. Something ugly and angry and wicked jumped at her from his eyes. And your brother, fr+nulein? He goes to secret meetings, too?

Of course not, he's just barely sixteen.

But he doesn't attend youth meetings either, does he? Does he, fr+nulein? Is it possible, then, that your family is not as sympathetic to the Reich as we had previously thought?

That's not true, Captain. My brother had a great deal of trouble with his studies, as well as asthma, and of course ' since the death of my mother She trailed off, hoping to discourage further questions, but that was beyond hope.

And when was it that your mother died?

Ten years ago, Captain. Thanks to people like you.

I see. How touching that the boy even remembers his mother. He must be a very sensitive young man. She nodded, not sure what to answer, and let her eyes stray from his face. Too sensitive for the army, fr+nulein? Could it be that he and your father have deserted their homeland in its final hour of need?

Hardly. If they had done that, why would they leave me here?

You tell me, fr+nulein. And while you're about it, perhaps you could tell me something about a friend named Max. Maximilian Thomas? A young man who used to visit your father on occasion, or was it that he visited you?

He was an old friend of my father's.

Who only five months ago fled Berlin. Interestingly, he disappeared on precisely the same night that one of your father's cars was stolen, and then found again, of course, safe and sound, outside the train station in Berlin. A happy coincidence, of course. Oh, God, did they know about Max, then? And had they tied her father to that after all?

I don't think the car being stolen had anything to do with Max.

He took a long drag on his cigarette. Now let's talk about your brother again for a moment, fr+nulein. Where do you suppose he could be? He spoke to her in the singsong voice of someone speaking to the mentally retarded or a very young child. I understand that you've been nursing him through a very bad cold for the past two days. She nodded. And then, miraculously, when you went downstairs to answer a phone call, the boy disappeared. Annoying of him, of course. What I'm rather wondering, though, is if he didn't disappear several days earlier. Like yesterday morning perhaps, around the time your father was last seen at his office? What kind of coincidence do you suppose that might be?

A very unlikely one, I'd say. He was in the house all day yesterday, last night, and this morning, in his room.

And how lucky he is to have a devoted sister like you. I understand that you guarded him with the zeal of a young lioness guarding her cubs. As he said the words, a chill ran down her spine. There was only one way he could have known that. From Hedwig or Berthold. A wave of nausea seized her as she understood the truth. For the first fame Ariana felt the full force of the facts. And then suddenly she felt raw fury run through her for their betrayal. But she couldn't let him see it. She had to play the game, at any price.

The captain pressed relentlessly on, You know, fr+nulain, what I find intriguing is that they seem to have run off and left you here, your father and your brother together, perhaps to save the boy from joining the army, or perhaps for even more malicious purposes than that. But whatever the reason, they seem to have abandoned you, my dear. And yet you protect them. Is it that you know your father is coming back? I assume that's what it must be. Otherwise I'm afraid I don't understand your unwillingness to talk.

For the first time she snapped at him in irritation; the strain of the interrogation was finally fraying her nerves. We have been talking to each other here for almost two hours, but I simply don't have the answers to the questions you ask. Your accusations are inaccurate, and your presumption that my brother and father have run off and left me is ridiculous. Why would they do that?

In truth, my dear lady, I don't think they would. And that is precisely why we're going to wait and see. And when your father returns, he and I will talk over some business.

What kind of business? Ariana eyed Von Rheinhardt with suspicion across his desk.

A little trade, shall we say? His charming daughter for ' well, let's not discuss the details. I'll be happy to arrange it with your father when he gets back. And now, fr+nulein, if you'll excuse me, I will have Lieutenant Hildebrand escort you to your room.

My room? I'm not going home, then? She had to fight to keep the tears from springing to her eyes. But the captain was shaking his head firmly while still wearing his unbearable false smile.

No, fr+nulein, I'm afraid we'd prefer to show you our hospitality here, at least until your father returns. We'll make you quite comfortable in your ' er ' room here with us.

I see.

Yes. He looked at her somberly for a moment. I suppose that by now you do. I must offer your father my compliments when I see him, if I see him, that is. He has a most impressive daughter, charming, intelligent, and extraordinarily well bred. You haven't cried, begged, or pleaded. In fact, I've thoroughly enjoyed our little afternoon. Their lttle afternoon had consisted of hours of grueling interrogation, and she wanted to slap his face when she heard the words.

He rang a buzzer at the side of his desk then and expected Lieutenant H++debrand to appear. They waited for a long moment and the captain buzzed again, The good lieutenant appears to be busy; apparently I'll have to find someone else to escort you to your room. He spoke of it as of a suite at the Daniel! in Venice, but Ariana knew full well that what awaited her was not a hotel room, but a cell. With his boots gleaming in the lamplight, the captain, obviously irritated, strode to the door. He pulled it open by its large brass doorknob and glared angrily outside. It was almost seven o'clock in the evening and Lieutenant Hildebrand had apparently gone in pursuit of his dinner. The only officer visible outside the office was a tall man with a stern face and a long narrow scar that ran down one cheek. Von Tripp, where the hell are all the others?