Part 20 (1/2)
As Sunny finished her tea and Ernst smoked, their conversation turned back to the logistics of relocating Charlie and Simon. ”So Charlie and Jia-Li will live together?”
”Yes. If we can get him out of the ghetto and to Jia-Li's.”
Ernst chuckled. ”Can you imagine it, Sunny? It will take a hatchet to cut through the romantic tension in that apartment. I have no idea who either of them thinks they are fooling. It's like watching two teenagers-”
A rap at the door cut Ernst off. Sunny hopped to her feet, spilling the last of her tea. ”Are you expecting someone?” she whispered.
Ernst shook his head. He pointed to the corridor and mouthed the word ”bedroom.”
Sunny took a shaky step forward as she saw the doork.n.o.b turn and the door fly open.
Baron von Puttkamer marched into the room as though he owned it, followed by his Korean bodyguard, who a.s.sumed a post by the door. ”Ah, so you are home after all, Gustav,” the tall European bellowed.
”Of course, I . . .” Ernst sputtered.
The baron a.s.sessed the cramped quarters with a sweep of his eyes. ”I thought your art was selling better than these accommodations would suggest.”
”I am as frugal as your average Jew,” Ernst quipped.
Smiling, von Puttkamer turned his attention to Sunny. She feared that he would remember her from the spring day when they had met on the streets of the ghetto, but his eyes didn't register a flicker of recognition. He bowed his head and held out his hand. ”A pleasure, Fraulein.”
Ernst inclined his head in Sunny's direction without meeting her gaze. ”A new friend, Baron. She is posing for a painting I have in mind.” He cleared his throat, feigning embarra.s.sment, as though the baron had caught them in flagrante delicto. ”She will be leaving shortly.”
”That's hardly necessary, Gustav.” Von Puttkamer waved his hand. ”The lady doesn't speak German, does she?”
Ernst shook his head. ”She barely understands English. Our communication is more . . . physical in nature.”
Still smirking, von Puttkamer said, ”Really, Gustav? You and that miserable half-breed? You're an eligible artist. Surely you could do better.” He shook his head. ”These mixed bloods are the kind of perversity we are striving to wipe off the map.”
Sunny's skin crawled, but she pretended not to follow a word of his German. Instead, mustering a bored expression, she collected the dishes from the table and carried them over to the countertop in the galley kitchen.
Von Puttkamer moved across the room to study a painting that rested against the wall. ”Do you like it, Baron?” Ernst asked over his shoulder.
Von Puttkamer shrugged. ”The craftsmans.h.i.+p is fine.”
”Praise does not come much fainter than that.”
”It is hardly original, Gustav. Walk the art district of Cologne and you will find a hundred like it.”
”Fortunately for me, Cologne is a good long walk from Shanghai.”
”You are touchy, Klimper. So like an artist.” Von Puttkamer laughed. ”I'm not questioning your talent. After all, two of your paintings hang in my home. I merely wonder whether you are truly inspired by the theme. I sense you can do much more with your gift than this.”
”You give me more credit than I am due, Baron.”
Von Puttkamer turned his attention away from the canvas. ”I did not come to here to discuss art. Or even your penchant for sullied races.”
”So why have you come?”
”To invite you to dinner, my dear Gustav. This Friday.”
”Oh, thank you,” Ernst said. ”Is there a special occasion?”
”I would like you to meet my wife. She's somewhat of an art connoisseur. She very much enjoys your work.”
”Lovely. I would be delighted. No doubt your wife is an enchanting woman.”
”At times,” von Puttkamer said. ”Of course, there will be a few Party members in attendance as well.” His eyelids creased. ”We have more to discuss on the Jewish question.”
Sunny stiffened, but she held her head still while continuing to stare out the window.
Von Puttkamer scoffed in disgust. ”It astounds me how freely-how easily-the refugees live here in Shanghai. With their schools, temples and hospitals. Better than many of the good Germans back at home who have to cope with the hards.h.i.+ps of war. The j.a.panese are supposed to be our allies. Yet they allow the Jews to thumb their noses at us all.”
Ernst hesitated before speaking. ”I wish there were more that could be done.”
Sunny glanced over her shoulder and saw that von Puttkamer was smiling. ”Ah, but there is more, my friend. So much more.”
”Really, Baron?” Ernst said with a calmness Sunny could tell was feigned. ”Didn't you tell me that last year, when those SS officers came from Tokyo, they were unable to persuade the j.a.panese to act?”
”Ah, but that was last year,” von Puttkamer snorted. ”This time will be different.”
”How so, Baron?”
”This time we will not ask the j.a.panese for permission.”
CHAPTER 29.
Franz took another sip of his coffee, but he had been nursing the cup for half an hour and it had gone cold and tasteless. The cafe's proprietor, Herr Steinmann, shot him another impatient look. The restaurant wasn't crowded, but Franz had been tying up the most desirable table, in the corner by the window, for too long.
Franz far preferred the richer and more bitter coffee that Frau Schilling brewed at her bakery two blocks over. Besides, he couldn't really afford the beverage, in spite of a.s.sistance from Jia-Li and Ernst. It sickened Franz to have to depend on the charity of friends. And even with their help, the Adlers might have gone hungry the week before had Esther not sold the last of her mother's brooches.
Franz glanced over at the table beside his, where a couple sat with three young boys, who appeared to range from about four to eight years old. The father was using an old army knife to cut a piece of apple strudel into slices, while the boys watched him, practically vibrating with antic.i.p.ation. As soon as the delicate operation was complete, the children s.n.a.t.c.hed their slivers in delight. Franz noticed that neither parent reached for the pastry.
Franz heard the cafe door open and looked over to see Sunny step inside. Their eyes locked across the room. Heartsick, he thought again of what Liese had told him about seeing Sunny with Wen-Cheng. Hard as he tried, he could not shake the mental image of them lying naked together in a rundown rooming house near the Old City.
Franz had yet to find the right moment to confront Sunny with what Liese had told him. Even if he could have put aside the current crises with Charlie, Simon and Yang, he still wasn't convinced that he wanted to discuss it. Where could he possibly begin? As Sunny hurried over to him, her hips swinging ever so slightly with each step, his pulse quickened. He could not imagine losing her.
Sunny had barely settled into the seat across from him when Herr Steinmann appeared at the table, hands on his waist. ”Perhaps the lady would like something to eat or drink?” he asked pointedly.
”A cup of tea,” Franz answered for her. ”And I will have another coffee.”
Steinmann shook his head. ”And what food might I interest you in?”
Sunny gave him her most disarming smile. ”Only the drinks, thank you.”
Steinmann s.n.a.t.c.hed up Franz's cup and saucer and marched off. As soon as he was gone, Sunny leaned over the table until her and Franz's lips almost touched. ”Everyone is ready,” she whispered.