Part 37 (1/2)
”How nice,” Felless said with polite insincerity. ”But I do not see how that has anything to do with me.”
”We hoped you could use your connections and your high rank as a female of the Race to help her gain a position somewhere in France,” Auerbach said. ”When a female of the Race, especially a high-ranking female of the Race, speaks, Tosevites have to pay attention.”
”Tosevites, from all I have seen, do not 'have to' do anything,” Felless answered. ”And why should I help her again in any case?”
Before answering her, Rance spoke in English to Monique: ”Now we see what we see.” He went back to the language of the Race: ”Because you helped her before because of Business Administrator Keffesh.”
Felless flinched. Auerbach hid his smile. The female said, ”What do you know of Business Administrator Keffesh?”
”I know he is in trouble for ginger,” Rance said. ”I know you do not want authorities of the Race to know you did favors for him.”
”That is-” Felless used a word he didn't know. He a.s.sumed it meant blackmail. blackmail. She went on, ”Why should I do anything like that, and how do I know you will not betray me even if I do?” She went on, ”Why should I do anything like that, and how do I know you will not betray me even if I do?”
Now Rance did smile. When she put it like that, he knew he had her. He said, ”I do not ask for money.” Yet, Yet, he thought. ”I ask help for a friend, nothing more. She deserves help. She is a good scholar. She should have the chance to work at what she was trained to work at.” he thought. ”I ask help for a friend, nothing more. She deserves help. She is a good scholar. She should have the chance to work at what she was trained to work at.”
”And what were you you trained to work at, Rance Auerbach?” Felless demanded. trained to work at, Rance Auerbach?” Felless demanded.
He smiled again, even if she might not understand exactly what the expression meant. ”War,” he said.
”Were you?” Felless said. ”Why am I not surprised? And if I refuse you, you will inform my superiors of my unfortunate connections.”
”We do not want to do that,” Rance said. ”We want you to help us.”
”But if I do not help you, you will do this,” Felless said.
Rance shrugged. ”I hope it is not needed. You are a scholar. Do you not want to help another scholar?”
”What sort of scholar is this Tosevite female?” Felless asked.
When Auerbach asked Monique just how she wanted to answer that, she said, ”Tell her I studied-and want to go on studying-the history of the Roman Empire.” He translated her words into the language of the Race.
Felless sniffed. ”I find it strange that you Tosevites should speak of empires. You do not really know the meaning of the word. There is only one true Empire, that of the Race.”
”Very interesting,” Rance said, ”but it has nothing to do with what we are talking about here. Will you help my friend, or is it necessary for us to embarra.s.s you?”
” 'Embarra.s.s' is not the word.” Felless sighed. ”Very well. I will help. As you say, this is a relatively small matter.” She sounded as if she was trying to convince herself of that.
After Auerbach translated that for Monique, he said, ”What do you think?”
”I think it is wonderful, if it is true,” she answered in English. ”I will believe it is true when I see it, however.”
”If it's not true, we'll just have to talk to the Lizards' authorities,” Rance said, also in English. Then he translated that into the language of the Race for Felless' benefit. By the way she winced, she didn't think she was particularly benefited. Rance's smile got bigger. That wasn't his worry. It was all hers.
To her astonishment, Monique Dutourd found that she enjoyed selling dresses. In her academic days, she'd learned how to deal with people without panicking. That served her in good stead now. She'd also learned to dress reasonably well without spending an arm and a leg: on a professor's salary, she could barely afford to spend fingernail clippings. And so she could help other women look as good as they could without helping them to go broke doing it.
Her boss was a fellow named Charles Boileau. After she'd been working at the dress shop for a couple of weeks, he said, ”I had my doubts about hiring you, Mademoiselle Mademoiselle Dutourd. I thought you would either be too educated to work with the customers, or that you wouldn't be able to learn the business. I was wrong both ways, and I'm not too proud to admit it.” Dutourd. I thought you would either be too educated to work with the customers, or that you wouldn't be able to learn the business. I was wrong both ways, and I'm not too proud to admit it.”
”Thank you very much.” Monique was pleased and, again, surprised to admit it to herself. ”I'm glad you think I fit in.”
Boileau nodded. ”I knew you knew what you were doing when you talked Madame Madame du Cange out of that green dress without insulting her or making her ashamed of her own judgment.” du Cange out of that green dress without insulting her or making her ashamed of her own judgment.”
”I had to, sir, even though the sale we got was for a little less,” Monique said. ”Madame ”Madame du Cange is a woman of... formidable contours.” Her gesture said what she wouldn't: that the customer in question was grossly fat. ”If she'd bought that dress, she would have looked like nothing so much as an enormous lime with legs.” du Cange is a woman of... formidable contours.” Her gesture said what she wouldn't: that the customer in question was grossly fat. ”If she'd bought that dress, she would have looked like nothing so much as an enormous lime with legs.”
Her boss was a sobersided man. He fought-and lost-a battle against laughter. ”I wouldn't have put it that way,” he said, ”but I won't tell you that you're wrong.”
”And if she did that,” Monique said earnestly, ”it would have reflected badly on her, and it would have reflected badly on us. People would have said, 'Where did you get that dress?' She would have told them, too-she would have thought it a compliment. And none of the people she told would have come here ever again.”
”It wouldn't have been quite so bad as that, I don't think,” Boileau said, ”but your att.i.tude does you credit.”
Her att.i.tude turned out to do rather more than that. When she got her paycheck at the end of the week, it had an extra fifty francs in it. That wasn't enough to make her rich. It wasn't even enough to make her anything but very dubiously middle-cla.s.s. But every one of those francs was welcome and more than welcome.
She'd found herself a tiny walk-up furnished room a couple of blocks from the dress shop. It had a hot plate and a sink. No stove, no toilet, no bathtub, no telephone. The toilet and tub were down at the end of the hall. In the whole building, only the landlady had a phone and a stove.
After cooking in the tent, Monique had no trouble cooking on a hot plate. And she discovered she didn't miss a telephone. Dieter Kuhn couldn't call her, a.s.suming he was still in Ma.r.s.eille. Lucie couldn't get hold of her, either. Neither could Rance Auerbach, but she could always reach him on a public telephone whenever she needed to.
She kept waiting for news that Felless had managed to persuade a university to give her a position. The news didn't come. Once when she telephoned, Auerbach asked, ”Shall we turn her in now?”
But Monique, not without regret, said, ”No. She helped me out of prison. I do not wish to betray her unless it is very plain she is betraying us.”
”Okay,” Auerbach said-they were speaking English. ”I still think you're too d.a.m.n nice for your own good, but okay.”
Monique had to work out exactly what that meant in French. When she did, she decided it was a compliment. ”Things could be worse,” she said. Remembering Dieter Kuhn, she s.h.i.+vered a little. ”Yes, things could be much worse. Believe me, I know.”
”Okay,” Rance Auerbach said again. ”You know best what you want. I'm just trying to help.”
”I know. I thank you.” Monique hung up then, scratching her head. She'd seen that Auerbach was partial to such gestures. He'd given David Goldfarb a hand, even if that meant going to the n.a.z.is to put pressure on the Englishman who was giving Goldfarb a hard time. So no wonder the American would squeeze a vulnerable Lizard to help her.
Did he have an ulterior motive? With most men, that added up to, did he want to go to bed with her? She wouldn't have been surprised, but he wasn't obnoxious about it if he did. He wasn't making it a quid pro quo, quid pro quo, as so many men would have. Kuhn certainly had, d.a.m.n him-if she gave him her body, he kept his fellow SS goons from interrogating her. The worst of that was, she still felt she'd made the best possible bargain there, no matter how she loathed the as so many men would have. Kuhn certainly had, d.a.m.n him-if she gave him her body, he kept his fellow SS goons from interrogating her. The worst of that was, she still felt she'd made the best possible bargain there, no matter how she loathed the Sturmbann fuhrer. Sturmbann fuhrer.
Maybe she shouldn't have thought of Kuhn on the way back to her roominghouse. Maybe if she hadn't, he wouldn't have been sitting on the front steps waiting for her. Monique stopped so short, she might have seen a poisonous snake there. As far as she was concerned, she had.
”h.e.l.lo, sweetheart,” he said in his German-accented French. ”How are you today?”
”Go away,” she snarled. ”Get out. I never want to see you again. If you don't leave right now, I'm going to scream for the police.”
”Go ahead,” Kuhn answered. ”I'm just a tourist, and I've got the papers to prove it.”
”You're a d.a.m.ned SS man, no matter what your papers say,” Monique retorted. Her mouth twisted in a bitter quirk that was not a smile. ”You've got the little tattoo to prove it. I ought to know. I've seen it too often.”
His smile was a long way from charming. ”Go ahead. Tell them you were f.u.c.king an SS man. If you don't, I will-and then see how much fun you have.”
Laughing in his face gave Monique almost as much pleasure as she'd ever had in bed-certainly far more than she'd ever had with him. ”Go ahead. See how much good it does you. I've already been to jail for that, and I got out again, too. I proved you made me do it. Go away right now and don't come back, or I will will yell for the police.” yell for the police.”
”You'd sooner screw that American, the cripple,” Kuhn said scornfully.
”Any day,” she answered at once. ”Twice on Sundays. Go away.” She took a deep breath. She really did intend to scream her head off.