He took the more northerly of the Lubeck roads, and once in open country found a wide verge on which to pull over. With ears alert for approaching traffic he turned on the car light, opened up the false bottom of the suitcase, and placed the papers inside. He had planned to copy them for the British that night, but hed need a whole weekend to copy this lot. He would have to be selective. Theyd be none the wiser.
About ten kilometers further on he found the town and guesthouse for which he was looking. It wasnt much more than a village bar, but the woman who ran it was happy to provide him with a room. It was my sons, she said, without explaining where hed gone. The sundry toys and books suggested he was expected back.
Once locked in, Russell retrieved the papers from the false bottom and skimmed through them. They were what Irina Borskaya had claimed they werea detailed rundown of the German Navys current and contingency disposition in the Baltic. Most of the key information seemed to be included in the three maps which accompanied the text, and Russell set out to copy these. The British, he thought, should be thankful for small mercies.
The maps were highly detailed, and it took him almost four hours to finish his work. He felt as if he had only just gotten to sleep when the landlady knocked on his door suggesting breakfast, and it was indeed only seven oclock. Still, breakfast was good, and the sun was already above the horizon. Her son, it transpired, had joined the Navy.
Russell set out for Berlin soon after 9:00, papers and copies hidden in the false bottom, the suitcase itself wedged under the eye-catching model of the Preussen. There was no need, of courseno roadblock, no spot-checks, no officious small-town policemen eager to find fault with a car bearing a Berlin license plate. Soon after 1:00 he parked the Hanomag outside Zoo Station, pulled out the suitcase, and nervously carried it in to the left luggage.
Nice day, the clerk said, taking the case and handing over a numbered ticket.
So far, Russell agreed. He rang Effi from the telephone stand along the hall and told her things had gone to plan. She sounded as relieved as he felt. Im going home to collect some clean clothes and do a bit more shopping for Paul, he told her. Ill see you about six.
She told him they had tickets for a revue at one of the smaller theaters near Alexanderplatz, and he tried, in vain, to sound enthusiastic. Im just tired, he explained. Ill be fine by then.
He certainly felt safer with the suitcase squirreled away in Zoo Stations cavernous left luggage. There was always the ticket of course, but if worse came to worse that was small enough to eat. Back at the car, he examined the model ship for the first time in daylight, and congratulated himself on his choiceit really was beautiful.
Frau Heidegger thought so too, and conjured up a bright red ribbon which shed been saving for such an eventuality. There were messages from both his agents: Jake Brandon had sent a sarcastic wire from New York demanding copy, and Solly Bernstein had phoned to tell Russell that his friends had arrived in London. He was still smiling when he reached his third floor room.
After a much-needed bath and change of clothes, he piled several more changes into his usual suitcase and carried it out to the car. Lunch at Wertheim was followed by a leisurely stroll around the toy department, and the acquisition of two other gifts in which Paul had expressed an interest. A book shop further down Leipzigerstrasse supplied a third. He was probably spending too much, but he might never get another chance.
He managed to stay awake through the revue, but was unable to conceal his dismay when Effi suggested dancing. She took pity on him. I know whatll wake you up, she said as they climbed the stairs to her flat, and she was right. Afterward, she showed him what she had bought for Paulthe gorgeous encyclopedia of animals which he had admired on their last visit to the zoo shop.
Next morning they joined several hundred other Berliners on the sidewalk of the Kudamm, well-wrapped against the cold at their outside table, rustling newspapers, sipping coffee, and nibbling cake. This was how it used to be, Russell thoughtordinary Germans doing ordinary things, enjoying their simple civilized pleasures.
His newspaper, though, told a different story. While hed been slinking round Kiel the Czechs had lost patience with the German-backed Slovaks, sacking their provincial government and arresting their prime minister. The Beobachter was apoplecticwhat nation could countenance such a level of disturbance just beyond its borders? Some sort of German intervention seemed inevitable, but then it always had. If the separatists won then Czechoslovakia would disintegrate; if denied, their campaign would simply continue. Either set of circumstances would generate enough turmoil for Hitlers purposes.
Looking up from his paper, the sidewalk cafe-dwellers no longer seemed content in their simple pleasures. They looked tense, weary, anxious. They looked as though a war was hanging over their heads.
After lunch with Effi he drove over to Grunewald, dropped off his presents, and gave his son a birthday hug. Twenty minutes later they were picking up Thomas in Lutzow and heading for the Plumpe. Thomass son Joachim had started his arbeitsdienst the previous week, and was repairing roads in the Moselle valley.
The weather was fine, but the team proved incapable of providing Paul with a birthday present. They lost 2-0, and were lucky not to lose by more. Pauls despondency didn't last long: By the time they were halfway home he was full of the party in prospect, and forgetful of Herthas dark betrayal.
Effi was already there when they arrived, talking happily to Thomass fourteen-year-old daughter Lotte. Over the next hour around a dozen of Pauls friendsall of them malewere delivered by their parents, some in their Sunday best, some, for reasons best known to the parents, in their Jungvolk uniforms. The games they played seem surprisingly violent, but that, Russell supposed, was part of the same depressing mindset. At least they hadn't replaced pin the tail on the donkey with pin the nose on the Jew. Yet. He would write a piece on children for the Ordinary Germans, series, he decided. When he got back from Prague.
Paul seemed happy and popular, which was definitely something to celebrate. The adultsIlse and Matthias, Thomas and his wife Hanna, Russell and Effisat together in the huge kitchen, drinking Matthiass excellent wine. They smiled and laughed and toasted each other, but the talk was of happier times in the past, of how things used to be. At one point, watching Ilse as she listened to somebody else, Russell had a mental picture of her in Moscow fifteen years earlier, eyes alive with hopes of a better world. Now all of them were backing into the future, frightened to look ahead. They had their own bubble, but for how long?
The evening ended, bringing tomorrow that much closer. After congratulating each other on how well their presents had been received, both he and Effi lapsed into silence for most of the journey home. They were turning into her street when she suddenly suggested accompanying him to Prague.
No, he said. Theres no point in us both taking the risk. He switched off the car. And youre a Germantheyd try you for treason. Theyd have more options with me.
Like what?
Oh, I dont know. Swapping me for one of their spies, maybe.
Or just shooting you.
I doubt it. But I think having you there would make me more nervous. And more likely to give myself away.
She searched his face, and seemed satisfied with what she found. All right, she said. Its no fun just waiting by the phone, you know.
I know.
Upstairs, he noticed the script on her dressing table and had an idea. Can you get another copy for yourself? he asked.
I dont see why not. I could say I burned the first one in a fit of despair. But why?