On the other side of the door, nosy Mrs. Gilpatrick hesitated once more. However, Mr. Brinker’s answer seemed to satisfy her. “All right,” she said at last. “But please shut the window. I can’t afford to heat the whole city of Washington.”
Hess might have pointed out that his tiny rented room had no heat, but he let himself be satisfied by the sound of her footsteps going down the stairs. When he was certain that she was gone, he returned the rifle to the bench rest and peered through the scope once more. The crowd in front of the hotel had broken up. The staff cars were gone from the curb. General Eisenhower was safe inside the hotel and there was no telling when he would leave. Hess would simply have to wait for another chance. He was good at waiting. He got up and shut the window.
In the morning, Eva summoned Petra to carry a package to the Metropolitan Hotel. The weather had turned cold during the night, sending fingers of ice reaching from the shores of the Potomac and freezing solid the puddles of slush. Sometime before dawn a light snow had fallen, dusting the streets and lawns with what the old-timers called “cake snow” for its resemblance to confectioner’s sugar. Eva thought that her present for Ty was perfect. It was a white, silk aviator’s scarf. She thought he would look quite dashing as he accompanied the general around Washington. Ty had called briefly the night before to let her know that he had arrived. Over the phone, Ty had said he hoped that he would be able to slip away from the general today to see her. Eva certainly hoped so.
“Petra!” Eva called again, a bit impatiently this time. She was not feeling her usual self this morning. That ogre, Colonel Fleischmann, had come to visit yesterday evening and had spent the night, announcing with something like glee that his wife gone to see her sister in New York and would be too busy to telephone him in Washington. That meant his nights were free. Fortunately, there had been no sign of Hess since yesterday, but she had had Petra keep an eye out for him last night to warn him away. She thought it was better if Colonel Fleischmann never met him. He would be instantly suspicious of a young man with a German accent. As unlikable as Fleischmann was, Eva knew that the colonel was no fool. She remained wary of him at all times. If Fleischmann ever got a whiff of what Eva was up to or that she kept equipment in her attic to radio information to German U-boats, she knew that one word from him could send Eva to the gas chamber as a spy.
Fleischmann’s weakness was that he talked too much when he drank — and he loved the sound of his own voice, sharing endless War Department gossip with Eva. She had come to the conclusion that the man must have no friends and that his wife was a poor listener. He came to her house and her bed to unburden himself — with Eva as a captive audience.
“I want you to be my mistress, Eva,” he had said again last night. “I know you see other men. I don’t want to share you. You’ll have enough to live on—”
“I do not want or need your money, darling,” Eva interrupted him. “Do you think that I am a common whore?”
“You’re a whore, all right,” Fleischmann said. He grinned. “But definitely not a common one. You might as well take some money now and then. Hell, it’s not even my money. My wife’s family is loaded. That would be pretty rich, don’t you think? My wife paying for my whore.”
Eva fought the urge to slap the smug look from his face. “I do well enough.”
“From what I’ve seen, you’re not exactly living in splendor.” Fleischmann turned serious. “Then why do you do it, Eva, if not for money?”
Eva considered her answer carefully. She knew Fleischmann would keep badgering her if he wasn’t satisfied with her reply. “I like men,” she finally said. “They interest me. Would it be so unusual for a man to have more than one woman? I think not. I am simply the female version of the typical man.”
The colonel laughed at that. “You are something, Eva. You know, I’ve never even seen one of your movies.”
“Maybe someday, Darling,” Eva said, reaching for him under the sheets and thinking that the colonel had experienced some of her greatest acting, even if he did not know it.
Later, after he fell asleep, Eva had risked going up to the attic for her scheduled radio contact. Luckily for her, Fleischmann was a heavy sleeper. She locked the attic door behind her and put the Walther PPK she had been issued on the old desk beside the radio, just in case. If Fleischmann discovered her broadcasting to the U-boat, she planned to shoot him through the heart. She turned on the radio at the appointed hour, but there was no news from Berlin. Eva, however, had news to send that the Allies were indeed planning an invasion. She provided the information supplied to her by Bill Keller and signed off as soon as the U-boat radio operator acknowledged it. Eva had heard rumors that the Americans had equipment that could detect radio signals. Early in the war, vans filled with detection equipment supposedly roamed the streets, searching for signals. She did not know if anyone had been caught, and did not dare to ask Colonel Fleischmann about it. He might be a fool in some regards, but he had a way of sniffing a lie and she did not want to start him down that path. In any case, she kept her radio time as brief as possible. For all she knew, Eva’s radio might be Berlin’s only link with its spy network in the United States — or else there were a dozen radios hidden in Washington alone.
Her broadcast over, Eva slipped back into bed, with Fleischmann none the wiser. Much to her relief, Fleischmann had announced after his morning coffee that he had to get to his office.
“Petra!” Eva called again. This time, the girl appeared, wiping her hands on a dishrag. “Where have you been? I have been calling you.”
“I did not hear you, Frau Von Stahl.” The girl held up the dishrag by way of explanation. “I had the water running.”
“I want you to take a package for me to the Metropolitan Hotel. It is an early Christmas present for Captain Walker.”
Petra brightened at the mention of Ty’s name. “Captain Walker is in the city?”
“Yes, he is traveling with General Eisenhower.” Eva gave her servant a sidelong glance. Perhaps the girl had eyes for more than the delivery boys. “It is much colder here than in London, so I thought he could use a scarf.”
“That is a very good present, Frau Von Stahl.” Her hands dry, Petra started to take off her apron.
“You are going right now?”
“Yes. Is that all right?”
“Of course.” Eva hesitated, oddly reluctant to let eager Petra run her errand. The girl was starting to blossom here in Washington, so different from the skinny war refuge Eva had taken on partly out of pity but mostly because Polish girls had a reputation for being hard workers and meticulous housekeepers. Eva decided that she was being silly. “One more thing. If you see Herr Hess come around the house, warn him to stay away from Colonel Fleischmann. We want to avoid awkward questions.”
Petra shifted from foot to foot. “I have not seen Herr Hess since yesterday morning. I cannot say that I am sorry. I do not like that man, Fra Von Stahl. He will not bring us anything good.”
Eva was surprised. “Whatever can you mean, Petra?”
“He is a cruel man. I saw SS soldiers in Poland just like him. He has a heart of stone. Worse than stone. He has no heart at all.”
Eva studied Petra carefully, as if seeing the girl with new eyes. It should not have come as a surprise to know Petra thought German soldiers were cruel, but it was shocking to hear her say it. Eva felt herself growing angry. How dare she? A Polish milkmaid! Germany had liberated Poland! She said curtly, “You let me worry about Herr Hess.”