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His Majesty's Hope(28)



“Yes, that’s what I’ve been telling you. At Charité-Mitte. I’ve also approached Dr. Brandt.”

“What was his response?”

Elise shivered at the memory of being pressed up against the wall, guns trained on her heart and head. “Let’s just say that he was not about to let a mere nurse ask questions about anything.”

“But what about one nurse and a priest—and the Bishop of Berlin?”

“Bishop von Preysing would come forward?”

“The problem is, Elise, we in the Church have wanted to come forward, publicly, for some time. But the Concordat that the Vatican signed in ’thirty-three prevents any criticism of Hitler’s regime by the Catholic Church. And, on top of that, we have no proof. And without uncontestable proof, there will only be denial and subterfuge.” He rubbed his beaky nose. “You’re a nurse. A nurse at a hospital where this is happening. With your access to files, you could—”

Elise gave a grim smile. “Get all the proof Bishop von Preysing would need.”

“It’s dangerous work, Elise,” Father Licht warned. “If you’re caught …” The warning hung in the air. “Not even your mother could save you.”

Something crossed Elise’s face. In that moment, she decided she would see this through to the end, no matter what her mother might think, no matter where it might lead. “ ‘Withhold not good from them to whom it is due, when it is in the power of thine hand to do it.’ Proverbs three-twenty-seven, yes?”

Father Licht smiled. “I’m heartened to see that someone in our congregation not only has been listening but also remembers.”

“Besides,” Elise said, “Jesus was quite the troublemaker, after all.”

The smile disappeared from the priest’s haggard face. “But remember, my child—that’s why He was crucified. You must be careful. Please.”





Chapter Six


Early the next morning, Herr Karl pulled up to the entrance of the tile-roofed Hannover Hauptbahnhof station, the requisite red Nazi banners flying, Maggie in the seat beside him. He let the car idle as he pulled her suitcase from the back.

“Good luck, Fräulein,” he said, handing Maggie her valise. “Let’s not draw this out.”

“Thank you for everything,” Maggie said, shaking his hand. They parted ways.

Inside, the station was deserted, except for one lone ticket seller snoring, with a newspaper over his face, behind a glass window.

Maggie felt like an impostor. Shouldn’t the SS be here at any moment, to arrest me? she thought, her heart thundering in her chest and palms damp. She made sure to think in German, to go over her request, to familiarize herself with the Reichmarks in her purse. Then, she took a deep breath and, with her gloved hand, rapped at the window.

“Whaa—?” The newspaper fell to the floor as the man started, then blinked, then rubbed his eyes with two fists. “Yes, Fräulein. How may I help you?”

Maggie feigned nonchalance, even though her heart was beating rapidly. “Ticket to Lehrter Bahnhof in Berlin, please.”

“One way or round trip?”

For a long moment, Maggie blanked. Despite her fluency in German, she wasn’t expecting that question. Her jaw dropped, her cheeks turned red, and her eyes widened. She just couldn’t think of what he could possibly mean. Was she going to be found out so quickly? Was it over even before it had begun? How long would it take the SS to arrest her?

“One way or round trip?” the man repeated.

Maggie swallowed, looking for escape routes.

Then he started to laugh, a deep and hearty chuckle. “Gnädiges Fräulein, you clearly need coffee as much as I do in the morning!”

Maggie forced her stiff lips to smile. “Yes, I do need coffee, too,” she agreed. “One one-way ticket to Lehrter Bahnhof,” she managed finally, fumbling for the Reichmarks to pay.

“Five past six. Track two.”

“Thank you.”

“Here’s a schedule.” The man handed her a printed sheet. As he picked it up, it tore slightly. He reached down to get her a fresh one.

Maggie, used to rationing, including the rationing of paper, was incredulous. “It’s all right. I don’t mind. It’s still perfectly usable.”

“Nein!” the man snapped, crumpling up the torn sheet and throwing it into the garbage. “Wenn schon, denn schon!”

Maggie realized it was the old German expression “If something is worth doing at all, it is worth doing right.” She was silent, absorbing his sudden intensity, and accepting the new and unblemished schedule sheet.