Astronomy(10)
Schoenberg looked away bitterly. “Now look what their hatred has led them to. They have cost us the war. They have toyed with forces beyond human comprehension, and it was all just—”
It was the smell of death made them both look up.
Five men stood back from the bare electric bulb. The one in front wore the uniform of a German officer. The four behind him were so large they hunched forward just to clear the top of her cell door.
Susan found herself staring at them. Something in their silhouettes looked oddly jointed. Hard to tell in this light.
The man in front was smaller and aspired to a rakish elegance. An amused smile appeared in the peripheral glow of his cigarette.
“You must be the Allied agent my men have told me so much about.” He took her hand. “I am enchanted, Fräulein . . . ?”
“Berne. Katje Berne.” That was the name on her identity papers.
He actually kissed her hand. Anybody told her a guy in twentieth-century Europe went around kissing hands, she would have laughed out loud. But some people, their power comes from a certain sense of entitlement. This guy looked like he had a castle somewhere. Susan stared in amazement, thinking: My dream date with Dracula.
“I am the man that Oberstürmführer Schoenberg has spoken of. I am Krzysztof Malmagden.” He didn’t bow exactly. She could see he was holding himself back.
Malmagden turned his amused smile toward the corner of the cell where Schoenberg was fussing with his valise.
“You are quite right, Oberstürmführer. I have toyed with forces beyond human comprehension. Yet I am here. And some others are not.”
The Lieutenant rose to explain himself. Malmagden put a hand to his shoulder, sat him back down.
“You have been telling tales out of school,” he addressed the young lieutenant in a parental tone.
“I have documents to back up everything I have said. You and Stürmbannführer Kriene used your position to wage a personal war on each other. You cost many German lives in the course of this rivalry. You have cost us the war.”
But Schoenberg’s defiance was the brittle defiance of an employee. Malmagden laughed.
“Your accusations come at a peculiar time, Herr Schoenberg. Have you called Gestapo headquarters lately? I don’t believe anyone is there to hear.”
Schoenberg looked around at the huge men of Malmagden’s personal guard. They were standing all around him. He gulped a little. “I am not collecting this material for the Gestapo,” he said. “I am giving it to the Allies, for their war crimes tribunal.”
Indeed, Susan found Schoenberg’s briefcase in her lap.
Malmagden smiled—“Pardon me”—and took it back. There followed a struggle as Schoenberg grabbed for the case. Malmagden shoved him backward. They fell over the tabletop. Papers exploded out the top of the valise, drifted about the room, filling the bouncing light with jittering shadows.
Susan thought for half a second and went for Malmagden. Something circled her about the waist and lifted her off the two men. She smelled rotten meat and turned back to see the huge face of something barely human.
Malmagden’s guard smiled at her. This was a distinctly canine smile, full of teeth and hunger. The nose was too long on the sides. The eyes that glinted in the lamplight were red and shimmering like dogs’ eyes.
“It’s all right, Liebchen,” Malmagden assured her. “The Gestapo will harm you no more.”
They were going to kill Schoenberg, she realized, right here in her cell. They were going to use her as their excuse to do it.
“He gave me cigarettes,” she managed. “He was nice. Please.”
The German patted her arm. “If he was nice to you, it was to entrap you in some greater admission.”
“No, you don’t understand. He didn’t even ask me anything. Look. He just gave me cigarettes.” She held up the pack for them to see.
“The Gestapo are cunning interrogators.” Malmagden led her from the cell. Schoenberg moved to follow after. Malmagden’s guard stepped in his way.
Susan reached back for him. Malmagden whisked her hand away. “Don’t trouble yourself with him any further,” he said. He led her out into the tunnel. Behind her, Susan heard a scream of pain. Then another.
Malmagden was asking her if she’d been out of her cell since her arrival. He seemed appalled that any guest of his should spend a week in these conditions.
A long wail of anguish echoed down the hall. Susan turned back for him. Malmagden grabbed her by the arm. His hand was harder than she had imagined. She looked in his face and saw the spoiled European dandy had transformed into something cold and quiet.
“This war crimes business, this is a serious charge,” he said. “Not even Stürmbannführer Kriene accused me of such a terrible thing, and Kriene was a frustrated and embittered man who knew few limits.”