His Majesty's Hope(91)

“Of course, mein Engel,” Miles answered, distracted. “Here’s the key.”

“Thank you, Papa.” Elise gestured to the three. “Come!”


Miles Hess’s office in the opera house was opulent, with thick carpets, oil paintings, and velvet-covered furniture. A window overlooked the Gendarmenmarkt. Elise turned on the light, then went straight to his desk. “Ah, it’s here!” she exclaimed.

Maggie, John, and Ernst exchanged looks.

Elise sank to her knees, opening a large leather Rimowa trunk with strips of molded wood, covered in colorful travel stickers:

LANGHAM HOTEL, LONDON; MENA HOUSE HOTEL, CAIRO; HOTEL TRIANON, PARIS.

“It’s where he keeps his orchestral scores when he’s traveling,” she explained, lifting the heavy lid, taking out bundled scores and piling them under the desk. “It’s a big trunk, because he always wants the score for every single instrument’s part, in case he needs to look something up. Well, come on—help me take all these out!”

“But this trunk will fit only one of us,” Maggie objected.

“You, to be specific,” Elise said to Maggie, “as you’re the smallest.”

It took a few precious minutes, but the trunk was finally empty. “Wait,” Maggie said. She took a pen from her handbag and punched a number of holes in the side of the trunk. Then she took a bunch of newspapers and dropped them inside. She colored. “At spy camp they said I had an iron bladder. Let’s hope they were right.”

Elise studied Maggie. “Are you ready?”

“As I’ll ever be,” Maggie replied resolutely. “If—when—we get to Zürich, I want to talk to you. We need to talk.”

“About what?” Elise looked confused.

As much as Maggie wanted to tell Elise the truth, this wasn’t the time. “Nothing that can’t wait—we all have enough to think of now.” She and John kissed, and then she folded her body inside the trunk.

Elise’s lip touched her cheek. “Good luck, dearest Maggie. I’m going, too, so as soon as we’re all onboard the train and moving, I’ll check on you.”

And with that, she closed the lid.


Back in the empty rehearsal room, Elise repeated the process with John and Ernst. The two men opened the cases, punched airholes in them, then placed the instruments in a supply closet. Elise locked the door. She had John fit himself into the harp case, and Ernst into a timpani case. Both cases had wheels.

The first part of the mission accomplished, Elise went to see her father, now chatting with a man she recognized. Herr Wallfrid Bauer was a prominent arms manufacturer. Elise slipped up beside her father, smiling brightly.

“Ah!” said Herr Bauer. “And here is your charming daughter, all grown up now!”

“Yes.” Miles nodded with pride. “And I’m pleased to say she is a nurse, at Charité.”

“If I ever have a medical emergency, I know who to call!” Herr Bauer chortled at his own cleverness. Elise didn’t join in. Then there was the sillage of Chanel No. 5 perfume, and Elise turned to see her mother appear.

“Hello, kitten,” Miles said, kissing one of his wife’s gloved hands. “I wasn’t expecting you tonight.”

“Frau Hess, you look as beautiful as always,” Herr Bauer said as he bent to kiss her other hand. “I only wish it had been you tonight, singing the part of Elsa. Although you were wonderful as Ortrud, at your party.”

“Thank you.” Clara’s scarlet-painted lips twisted into a smile.

“Hallo, Mutti.” The color had drained from Elise’s face. She hadn’t counted on her mother being there.

“Mausi.” Clara turned to her husband. “And now, my darling, shall we go?”

“Go?” Elise’s breath caught in her throat. “You’re coming with us?”

“Of course, Mausi,” she crooned, reaching out a hand to stroke the younger woman’s cheek. “I wouldn’t miss this trip for the world.”





Chapter Twenty


The Hess family sat in the first-class train compartment on red velvet seats. Over the door was an SS Death’s Head insignia. Clara pulled down the window shade and turned on the dim light.

Elise had seen soldiers patrolling outside; now she swallowed hard. She folded her gloved hands in her lap and concentrated on holding them still as the train started its engines, then pulled away from the station with a screech of wheels and hiss of steam. She crossed herself and closed her eyes to pray for the three hidden in the baggage compartment. She hoped the porters had been gentle with the cases. She thought that the odds were good that the cases had been moved carefully—while they might not necessarily treat human beings well, Germans could be counted on to care for the instruments used to play Wagner with respect.