“Heil Hitler!” he barked, giving a straight-armed salute.
Fulmar returned the salute casually, smiled, and without being asked, produced his identification.
The document was studied casually, and handed back, with another salute.
“Pass the Sturmbannfuhrer!” the sergeant called loudly.
“Danke schon,” Fulmar said.
He was almost at the table when the sergeant ran after him, caught up, and touched his arm.
Fulmar, his heart jumping, turned to look at him, wearing what he hoped the SS noncom would consider a look of polite curiosity. He was relieved to see that the sergeant was smiling, but he still felt clammy sweat.
The taxis are out of gas again, Herr Sturmbannfuhrer,” the sergeant said.
“May I offer the Herr Sturmbannfuhrer a ride?” That’s very kind of you, Scharfuhrer,” Fulmar said. He would, he decided instantly, have himself driven to the Cafe Weitz and announce that he was meeting friends there.
“It would be a long cold walk up the Burgweg today,” the sergeant said.
How does this sonofabitch know I’m going to Burgteg?
“I beg your pardon?” Fulmar asked coldly.
It was an attempt at humor, Herr Sturmbannfuhrer,” the sergeant said.
“No offense was intended.”
“None so far has been taken,” Fulmar said. “I don’t know what the hell you’re t’lking about.”
“I simply presumed that since the Herr Sturmbannfuhrer is on the staff of Reichsfuhrer-SS, he might be looking for a certain very senior officer, also stationed in Berlin. I repeat, Herr Sturmbannfuhrer, that no offense was intended.” “I took none,” Fulmar said, and smiled, “but I know a certain Standartenfuhrer who might.”
“If we are talking about the same Standartenfuhrer, Herr Sturmbannfuhrer, I would be grateful if you would not–” “Of course not,” Fulmar said. “He’s here in Marburg already?”
“Oh, no, sir,” the sergeant said. “There was a teletype message, unofficial, of course, that the unexpected duty would preclude his visiting Hauptsturmfuhrer Peis this weekend.” Fulmar took the news that Muller was not going to show with a calm that surprised him. That “possibility” had been planned for. The only question was why he wasn’t coming. Had he really been given some duty that kept him from coming here? Or had he backed out at the last moment?
Or had the entire operation been compromised?
“I guess that happened after I left Berlin,” Fulmar said. “I hadn’t heard about that. I was just told… ” He stopped and smiled. “Oh, I see! You thought I was delivering a little gift, to make the lady’s disappointment a little less?” Fulmar asked.
The sergeant shrugged.
“I must say that you are both alert and perceptive,” Fulmar said.
“But that’s not it.” He paused thoughtfully. “Maybe there’s a message for me at Burgweg. I gratefully accept your kind offer of a ride.”
“It is my pleasure. Herr Sturmbannfuhrer,” the sergeant said.
When they reached the Dyer house, the sergeant said that he could wait if he wasn’t going to be long.
“The very least I’ll have to do is call Berlin,” Fulmar said.
“And I wouldn’t be a bit surprised if there was an errand or two for me to run.” The Unterscharfuhrer didn’t seem suspicious. He replied that he would be on duty all weekend, and if the Herr Sturmbannfuhrer needed a ride, all he had to do was call.
Fulmar thanked him and went to the door.
He knew the building, but he had never been inside before.
Gisella had never wanted him to come to her house.
When he rang the bell, a small, hunched-over middle-aged woman, with a blanket wrapped around her shoulders, came to the door. She looked at him suspiciously.
“Fraulein Gisella Dyer, please,” Fulmar said.
“Top of the stairs and to the right,” the middle-aged woman said.
Gisella opened the upstairs door. She recognized him immediately, and there was fear in her eyes.
“Heil Hitler!” Fulmar barked, for the benefit of the woman who he was sure was listening at the foot of the stairs.
Heil Hitler,” Gisella replied. “How may I help you, Herr Sturmbannfuhrer?”
“I have a message from a mutual friend,” Fulmar said.
“Please come in,” she said.
When he had gone past her, she closed the door and leaned against it.
“My God, what are you doing here?” she asked. “Where did you get that uniform? Are you crazy?”