“Is he staying on this floor?” Eva asked as innocently as possible.
“Just down the hall. He and Mamie have the corner suite.”
“Is he doing any work while he’s here?”
“What is this, an interrogation?” Ty grinned. “Ike is all about work. He’s got a whole table in there covered with maps. Just because he’s supposed to be on vacation doesn’t mean he’s forgotten that he’s in charge of the whole damn operation in Europe. No, not Ike.”
The storm chose that moment to buffet the bedroom window. Snow whispered against the dark glass and the fireplace seemed to crackle in reply. “Listen to that, darling,” she said. It sounded to Eva as if the wind was shifting direction.
“The way that snow is coming down, we’re not going to get out of here for days.”
That was fine with Eva. A little more time was just what she and Hess needed.
Sometime before dawn, Hess allowed himself to drift off to sleep. It was not a deep sleep, but more like dozing, the kind of soldier’s sleep where you left one eye open. The change in the weather sometime before dawn woke him. By then the snow had stopped and the stars were starting to come out. The wind picked up, but not so much that it would be a problem when it came time to shoot.
Slowly, the light came up in the east. The rising sun revealed a landscape that had been transformed. Deep snow covered everything underbrush, parked vehicles and fields. Hess estimated the snow was twenty centimeters deep. It was the kind of light, powdery snow that came with really cold weather. Even the distant road was deep in snow, without so much as a single wheel rut breaking the surface. The plows would have a job ahead of them, but they hadn’t started yet, so the bright morning was empty of sound except for the breeze in the trees and the occasional chirp of some winter bird.
Hess thought with satisfaction that he was perfectly hidden by the snowfall. He might as well have dropped by parachute into these woods — not so much as a track showed to give him away. He rolled onto his side, undid the buttons on his trousers and urinated into a bottle he had brought for that very purpose so that he wouldn’t have to shift from his sniper’s nest.
The first sign of human life arrived when Hess watched a man come out of the resort, snow shovel in hand, and start clearing a path in front of the entrance doors. The hotel guests would want to come out and play in the snow. Through the telescopic sight, Hess saw the man shovel steadily. He scooped up a shovelful of snow and tossed it before the noise of his shovel scraping on concrete reached Hess. He played the sight post across the man’s head. The rifle felt almost hungry, willing him to pull the trigger. But why scare off the stag by shooting the squirrel. Wait, he told himself. There would be blood on the snow soon enough.
Ty was gone when Eva woke up. She reached over to touch the space he had occupied in the bed, but it was already cold. These military men were such early risers. She heard sounds in the hallway, men’s voices talking low. It was too early to get up, she thought, even if sunlight streamed through the window. She sat up and stretched, smiling at the memory of last night. Then the smile faded as she remembered where she was and why she was there. She imagined that this might be a little how a soldier felt on the morning before a battle. A lot was going to happen today, and who knew how it would turn out.
She hadn’t been so bold as to bring her robe up to Ty’s room last night, so she would have to make do with dressing in yesterday’s clothes for now. At least she had insisted on Ty letting her lay her dress carefully across the back of a chair so that it wasn’t too wrinkled. The old hotel’s antiquated heating pipes popped and groaned, trying to keep pace with the cold morning. She slipped out of bed naked and dressed quickly, cold snapping at her flesh and raising goose flesh. She pulled back her hair and glanced at herself in the mirror. Eva had never been one to labor over her appearance. Even early on a winter’s morning, having slept in a bed not her own, she was almost surprised by the striking face that gazed back at her. Perhaps there was a line or two that had not been there the year before, but she still had the face and body of a movie star.
A flood of memories came crashing back at once — all the glamor of Berlin and Paris, limousines and champagne, a waltz with the Fuhrer himself. It all seemed so far and alien from this cold room in what passed for a resort hotel in America. The memories and the glimpse of her old self in the mirror gave Eva fresh confidence for what lay ahead.
Eva opened the door and went out into the hallway. A passing officer she recognized as one of Ty’s fellow staff members smiled and nodded hello. She smiled back, wondering how long it would be before word got around that the ex-German movie star had been seen slipping out of Ty Walker’s room at seven a.m., still in her evening clothes. Well, she thought, a bit of scandal would entertain everyone.
Eva wasted no time. She walked down the hall, trying to look calm. For an actress, it was just another role to play. German refugee. Lover. Spy. The empty hallway smelled of damp wool and must wallpaper. Eva’s own room was on the floor below, so she assumed that this floor was reserved for General Eisenhower and his staff.
Ty had said that Eisenhower occupied the corner suite. With any luck, the general and his staff would be at breakfast. Eva made a final attempt to smooth out the wrinkles in her dress, hesitated, and then knocked at the door. There was no answer, so she knocked harder in case anyone within was still asleep. Then Eva tried the doorknob. Much to her surprise, the door was not locked.
Inside, there was a single, central sitting room. Here, too, the heating pipes popped and strained with little effect against the morning chill. There was only a pile of cold ashes in the fireplace. The maid had not been in yet because the ashtray on the coffee table between the sofa and loveseat overflowed with cigarette butts. On a sideboard were several cocktail glasses, a half-eaten bowl of peanuts and a few bottles of liquor. Eva shivered again, more out of nervousness than cold. If anyone appeared to ask what she thought she was doing in the general’s private suite, her plan was to appear flustered and lost, and then claim she was looking for Captain Walker. It might just work here. Americans were more trusting in nature. In Germany, the Gestapo would have taken her away for questioning — or worse.
Eva considered the two interior doors. Ty had said that the general — always working — used the suite as an office. She deduced that behind one door must be that room. Behind the other door she was likely to find Mamie Eisenhower still asleep. The general’s wife was famous for being anything but an early riser. Eva was sure that she would rather explain herself to an angry staff officer than to the general’s notoriously jealous wife.
Eva crossed the sitting room as silently as any thief. She chose the door on the right and turned the knob, half expecting to be confronted by an irate woman in hair curlers. But the sight that greeted Eva was a small room containing a desk covered in paperwork and ringed by three upholstered chairs. With a final glance over her shoulder to make certain that she was still alone, Eva entered Eisenhower’s private office. The desk was surprisingly messy. A coffee mug held freshly sharpened pencils and ballpoint pens. Piles of papers, stacked willy nilly, threatened to topple over. Eva spotted several folders and manila envelopes stamped in red with the words “Top Secret.” Even the trash can overflowed with crumpled documents. Where to begin?