Part 33 (1/2)
”I will make him listen.”
”Oh, thank you, Sunny. And will you take him something from me?”
”Certainly. Another letter?”
Esther glanced at Hannah and then turned back to Sunny with a shake of her head. ”An ultimatum.”
CHAPTER 44.
Sunny couldn't draw her eyes away from the painting. Though it was Post-Impressionist in style, and only half finished, its macabre theme was unmistakable. Many of the figures on the canvas were just ghostly outlines, their features still undefined. Nonetheless, she was mentally catapulted back to Broadway and the morning she had stumbled across the execution site. Ernst had captured the electric mood of the crowd that morning. Sunny experienced another pang of pity for the victims. They must have suffered horribly before their undignified deaths. And clearly time had proven Franz right: the old man from the Underground must have kept her ident.i.ty from the Kempeitai.
”Not my best work, I realize.” Ernst stood beside her, smelling of oil paint and tobacco. ”Let me see if I can salvage it yet.”
”It's gripping.” Sunny finally peeled her eyes away. ”But Ernst, after the last time, with those paintings you did of the Nanking Ma.s.sacre.”
”What about them?”
”They just about got you drawn and quartered.” Simon spoke up from the window ledge where he was sitting. ”You think it's wise to go over that waterfall again?”
Ernst addressed Sunny. ”This, from a man who single-handedly wants to storm the ghetto?”
Simon rose and strolled over to them. ”No storming. I only want to make sure my wife and son are safe. Is that too much to ask?”
”Don't you see, Simon?” Sunny said. ”By trying to reach Essie and Jakob, you would only be putting them in more danger.”
”What choice do I have, Sunny? Better that I stay cooped up here and just hope they keep out of harm's way?”
”Sunny has a point,” Ernst said. ”Your return will not go unnoticed. The j.a.panese are everywhere.”
”It's not the j.a.panese who concern me,” Simon said.
”They should, my friend.” Ernst wiggled a finger at his painting. ”They really should.”
”Even the yellow peril-” Simon flashed Sunny an apologetic look. ”The j.a.ps, I mean. What they can do doesn't compare to what the n.a.z.is have in mind.”
Sunny turned back to Ernst. ”Have you heard more from the baron?”
”Nothing specific.” Ernst pulled a pack of cigarettes from his s.h.i.+rt pocket and tapped one out. ”I tried to visit him yesterday but couldn't get in.”
”The son of a b.i.t.c.h doesn't trust you anymore,” Simon snorted.
”I doubt that,” Ernst said through a cupped hand as he lit the cigarette. ”I imagine von Puttkamer is being extra cautious, now that his plans are in the final stages.”
”Final stages?” Sunny stiffened. ”What have you heard, Ernst?”
”Gerhard believes the attack is imminent.”
”What does that mean? Today? Tomorrow? Next week?”
”Von Puttkamer told him to be prepared at a moment's notice,” Ernst said. ”Gerhard thinks the attack will come in the next few days. A week at most.”
A chill ran down Sunny's spine. ”Days . . .”
”Right in the middle of Hanukkah,” Simon said to himself.
”Christmas is only a few days away,” Ernst added.
”Yeah, but Hanukkah will bring all the Jews together in one spot,” Simon said.
Sunny stifled a gasp. ”At the synagogue! Of course!”
Simon nodded. ”On Sat.u.r.day. It's Shabbat.”
”That has to be where the n.a.z.is will attack!” Sunny exclaimed. ”When everyone is gathered for the service.”
”Sat.u.r.day is also Christmas Day,” Ernst pointed out.
Simon grimaced. ”You don't honestly think that would stop them?”
”No, I suppose not. Probably their idea of a Christmas present.”
”Even if we know the day and location, how do we prevent it?” Simon wondered aloud.
”Will they not cancel the service?” Sunny asked.
”I doubt they would.” Simon's hands fell to his sides. ”Besides, those snakes would just find another time and another place. Remember when von Puttkamer came to the ghetto? He sniffed around the hospital and the school, too.”
”Still,” Sunny said. ”If we think this is when they intend to strike, we must do something to stop it.”
”I wish we had gone after von Puttkamer months ago.” Simon shook his head bitterly. ”When we still had time.”
”How would you have accomplished that?” Ernst asked. ”Jews are hardly allowed out of the ghetto.”
”I could do it myself.”
”I never really pictured you as the a.s.sa.s.sin type. Besides, what would you use for a weapon?”
”A knife? A brick? My bare hands if need be. The son of a b.i.t.c.h wants to blow up my family!”
Ernst exhaled a plume of smoke. ”You think von Puttkamer is the only n.a.z.i who has it out for the Jews?”
”He's the one with the bombs right now,” Simon said.