Part 32 (1/2)

Fortunately for Eisler, the soldier didn't seem to understand German. ”Edward Murrow on CBS,” the foolish man continued. ”I am fortunate to have a good grasp of English, you understand. That man Murrow went with RAF bombers on a raid over Berlin. Oh, you should have heard his description. So marvellous! It sounded as if those brave pilots pummelled the Fuhrer's city. Murrow called it 'orchestrated h.e.l.l.' It's so wonderful, is it not, Herr Doktor?”

Franz looked back at Eisler. ”How can 'orchestrated h.e.l.l' be wonderful?”

”Berlin, man!” Eisler exclaimed. ”The Allies are pounding the n.a.z.i empire at its core.”

”And yet the n.a.z.is still dominate Europe,” Franz pointed out. ”I am told they refer to it as Festung Europa.”

”You watch, Dr. Adler. Watch how quickly Fortress Europe collapses as the Allies advance.”

”I have heard the same for almost two years,” Franz snapped. ”How the n.a.z.is will capitulate the moment the Americans and British invade the continent. But where is this invasion? Hitler still has the run of Europe.” He motioned to the checkpoint and lowered his voice. ”Meantime, we line up in the freezing cold to grovel to a j.a.panese Napoleon for permission to cross the street.”

”Any day now, Herr Doktor.” Eisler laughed. ”You will see.”

Movement in front of them drew their attention. Franz looked up to see that the door had opened and people had begun to file inside the building. He shuffled ahead with the rest of the queue as it relocated inside the narrow hallway that led to Ghoya's office. Franz was relieved to see Eisler turn to the person ahead of him. ”Do you listen to the wireless?” Eisler exclaimed. ”That Edward Murrow is my favourite . . .”

The door to Ghoya's office was wide open, and the little man's voice, even at its quietest, carried the length of the hallway. Franz could tell that his behaviour was as predictably unpredictable as usual. He joked and laughed with some of the refugees and berated, accused or struck others. Anything could launch him into a tirade.

Some people in the line appeared resigned, even bored. Franz a.s.sumed that they faced Ghoya regularly and had grown oblivious to his volatility. Others were ashen with terror or fidgeted nervously. Franz even caught himself s.h.i.+fting from foot to foot and cracking his knuckles.

Over an hour pa.s.sed before he made it to the head of the queue. Franz had rehea.r.s.ed arguments in his head, but as his turn neared, he still had no idea what he would say to Ghoya when he finally faced him.

An expressionless soldier at the door nodded for Franz to enter. At the sight of him, Ghoya hopped up from his seat and rushed around his desk. ”No, no, no!” He waved both hands wildly. ”No pa.s.ses for anyone in your family. I was clear.” He turned his head from side to side as though conferring with imaginary colleagues. ”Was I not clear? I believe I was clear.”

”You were, Mr. Ghoya.” Franz lowered his gaze and bowed before the little man. ”I have not come regarding a pa.s.s.”

Ghoya's irritability vanished as abruptly as a hailstorm ending. He sauntered around his desk and sunk back into his chair. A thoughtful look crossed his face as he touched his fingertips together in a diamond shape. ”Not for a pa.s.s? So why have you come?”

”I am . . . concerned for a friend.”

”Which friend?” Ghoya asked.

”Max Feinstein. A doctor. He works at my hospital and-”

A knowing look came to Ghoya's eyes as he raised a hand to cut Franz off. ”Maxwell Feinstein from Hamburg, Germany. Yes, yes. I know him!”

”Dr. Feinstein was arrested by the Kempeitai.”

Ghoya laughed. ”Of course he was! You think I do not know this? I know everything that happens in the Designated Area.” He patted his chest. ”After all, I am King of the Jews!”

”But, sir, why was Max arrested?”

Ghoya shook his head gravely. ”Maybe I should give you a pa.s.s for one day. Yes, maybe. To go see the exhibit on Broadway Street.”

Dread overcame Franz, but he pretended to be unaware of the ma.s.s public executions. ”Why is that, Mr. Ghoya?”

”Traitors,” Ghoya grunted. ”They hang there for everyone to see. Those cowards who killed our brave officers.”

”But I do not understand.” Franz raised a hand. ”What do they have to do with Dr. Feinstein?”

”He spies for the Resistance, too.”

Franz felt his pulse pounding in his ears. ”That is not possible, sir. He is a doctor. He has no interest in war or politics.”

”Your doctor friend is a spy!”

”But Max speaks only German. How could he possibly communicate with anyone in the Underground?”

”A spy, I tell you. A spy!” Ghoya clenched his fists as he screamed. ”We know it to be so!”

Franz saw it was futile to argue. His heart sank. Was Max even still alive? It almost didn't matter. If the j.a.panese believed him to be a spy, his fate was sealed.

Ghoya's tone suddenly became calm, almost pleasant. ”You do understand that your friend is gone?” For a moment, Franz thought Ghoya still meant Max. ”Now that Colonel Kubota is no longer with us, no one is left to protect you. You have only me to answer to. Only me.” He laughed again. ”No reason to concern yourself, Dr. Adler. I am a very fair king.”

Franz said nothing.

”Mrs. Aaronsohn tells me every day at lunch how thankful the Jews are for my benevolence,” Ghoya said, clearly proud of his choice of words. Then his eyes narrowed and he tut-tutted. ”The smuggling . . . the spying . . . it all comes back to that Jewish hospital of yours. The hospital where both colonels and the admiral died. Where that spy Feinstein was working.”

”Mr. Ghoya, the hospital is not a.s.sociated-”

”Why should the Jews have their own hospital? What is so special about you people? Tell me!”

”Nothing is special about us,” Franz blurted. ”We are a miserable people. A cursed people. And it is hardly a hospital at all anymore.”

”It is true! Your hospital was of no use to our wounded officers. No help at all! Perhaps the building could be put to other uses.”

Franz had run out of arguments, so he simply dropped his chin and nodded in defeat.

But Ghoya seemed to have lost interest in the hospital. He leaned back in his seat. ”Colonel Tanaka, he never trusted you Jews.”

At the mention of Tanaka, Franz experienced a familiar twinge of guilt.

Ghoya jutted out his lower lip. ”Without the king, who knows what the colonel would have done to you Jews.”

”We are grateful for your help, of course.”

Ghoya held out his hands. ”What is a king without his people?”

Franz decided to seize the opening. ”You know, sir, Colonel Tanaka is not the only one who wishes ill toward us Jews.”

”Yes, yes, I know,” Ghoya cried gleefully. ”The other Germans! They hate you Jews.”

”The n.a.z.is, yes. You are absolutely correct.” Franz nodded. ”They will probably attack us at any moment.”

”Attack you?” Ghoya frowned.

”Yes in the ghet-the Designated Area, sir. We have heard a rumour that they are planning to launch an a.s.sault any day. Of course, you must already have heard this, too.”