Part 11 (1/2)
Charlie looked away, embarra.s.sed. ”I am one of millions.”
”One in millions.” Ernst turned to Jia-Li. ”How would you get us out of the city alive?”
”Not us, only me,” Charlie said.
”I would come too, of course.”
”No, Ernst. You must stay.”
Ernst's face fell. ”I have to escort you home. I gave my word.”
”We need you here in Shanghai,” Charlie said definitively.
”I never even told Shan that I was leaving.”
Sunny wrapped an arm around Ernst's shoulder and drew him nearer. ”He will understand.”
”You clearly do not know Shan as I do,” Ernst muttered.
Jia-Li coughed into her hand. ”My boss's boss, Du Yen Sheng, is an influential man. He supplies the j.a.panese with certain commodities.”
”Opium?” Franz asked.
”Among other things, yes,” Jia-Li said. ”They truck it in from the countryside. His men are among the few Chinese who receive gasoline rations and permits to drive.”
Sunny frowned. ”In the back of an opium truck? That is how you intend to send Charlie home?”
Jia-Li rolled her shoulders in a can't-be-helped gesture. ”There is a truck arriving today. After unloading its cargo, it will head straight back out of the city.”
Charlie wiped his brow again, but sweat continued to drip off his face and down his neck. ”And they will take me?”
Jia-Li nodded. ”I have to warn you, Charlie. It will not be comfortable.” She glanced down at the sheet covering his infected leg. ”Under all the boxes and crates there is a false compartment that they use for such . . . emergencies.”
Charlie held Jia-Li's gaze for a moment. ”Trust me. It will not be the worst ride of my life. What time does the truck leave?”
”At one o'clock precisely,” Jia-Li said. ”You would have to meet them at a warehouse near the wharf.”
”How do we get Charlie to the wharf in broad daylight?” Ernst consulted his watch. ”In less than three hours?”
Jia-Li held up a hand helplessly.
”Utter lunacy,” Ernst said again.
Franz had a sudden revelation. ”The j.a.panese allow us to bury our dead.”
Ernst rolled his eyes. ”Well, that will come as some consolation to Charlie and his men.”
”I was thinking that we could send Charlie to the warehouse inside a casket.”
”But Franz, you know how paranoid the j.a.panese are,” Sunny said. ”They often look inside the caskets when they are being transported through the streets.”
”Yes, you are correct,” Franz muttered.
Sunny squinted. ”Unless . . .”
”Unless what, Sunny?”
”The night soil men come through the ghetto all the time.”
Jia-Li grimaced in disgust. ”Surely, xio he, you are not suggesting . . .”
Reddening, Sunny turned to Charlie with an apologetic frown. ”Charlie, we could wrap you in bamboo and other coverings. If we stood you up inside the barrel, with all that . . . waste . . . above you, no one would dare look inside.”
Charlie only shrugged. ”War is war.”
CHAPTER 17.
For the first time in days, clouds crowded the sky. The temperature had dipped to one more typical, and tolerable, for late spring, and yet today Sunny was sweating more heavily under her dress than on the previous scorching afternoon. She wondered how she could possibly be of any help to the Resistance when a simple reconnaissance mission was making her so nervous.
Franz seemed calm as he walked beside her down Ward Road, but Sunny sensed that something other than Charlie's predicament was troubling him.
She had noticed a similar coolness the night before when they had lain in bed together, discussing Simon's intent to leave the Comfort Home. ”I convinced him to stay for another few days while I arrange things with Yang,” she said as she stroked his arm.
”You think your housekeeper will take him in?” Franz asked.
After the Adlers had been forced to move into the ghetto, Yang had followed them into the same neighbourhood, claiming she had nowhere else to live but in her youngest sister's apartment. Sunny knew, though, that Yang had other siblings who resided in better areas and would have also welcomed their big sister into their homes. ”Yang has an extra room in her flat since her sister moved in with her son,” she said.
”But you know how terrified Yang is of the j.a.panese,” Franz pointed out. ”And she refuses to speak anything other than Chinese.”
”She will speak English if she's forced to. Besides, she's lonely. She may be crusty, but she is desperate to help. Why do you think she moved into the ghetto?”
”To be close to you.”
Sunny nestled in tighter, her chest pressing into her husband's side. ”I like being close to you,” she said in an inviting tone.
He turned his head and gave her a listless kiss on the cheek. ”I'm exhausted, darling. Good night,” he said as he rolled away from her.
Sunny had little time now to dwell on her husband's uncharacteristic coolness as they walked past two more j.a.panese soldiers, these ones standing on the corner and laughing uproariously at some private joke.
Her heart fluttered even faster. ”Franz, there are so many soldiers,” she said quietly in German. ”It's a long trip to the wharf in broad daylight. Especially for a night soil man.”
”True.”
”Who knows how many times he might be stopped? What if the soldiers hear Charlie inside? What if something else goes wrong?”
”We have no choice,” Franz muttered, focusing his gaze on the men approaching them from the other end of the block.