While Still We Live (32 page)

“Good,” said Hofmeyer after a pause, and the man who had walked so closely beside them had passed by. “But there’s no need for such zest. A bored remark will do.”

Sheila said nothing.

“Oh, it was quite good for a first try,” Hofmeyer added encouragingly. “Now, where were we? Ah, yes—the little jealousies behind the scenes. No, don’t hope that a miracle will come of them. Remember that this is the end of one campaign and that many of them believe it is all they need to fight. Many think that England and France will ask for peace, and that they will then have plenty of time to plan for the next phase. They want to immobilise the biggest countries, make them disgusted with their leaders, play on their peoples’ natural tendencies to reproach and criticise each other. Then they’ll take over the small countries one by one, and the bigger countries will be in such a state of uncertainty that they will be unable to fight any war. So, thinking these things, the Nazis can relax and be their own nasty little selves. Before the campaign, everything was forgotten except the need to win. Or else, as I said, the butcher and grocer and clerk and schoolteacher would all be back where they started.”

“But all Nazis can’t have power.”

“No. But they all think they share in the loot. They all see personal prosperity ahead of them at other nations’ expense. Meanwhile, during this lull in action, they are flown with insolence and wine. They are confident enough to indulge in petty quarrelling. Recently, I’ve felt that I have missed my true vocation. I should have been a tightrope walker.”

“Have you never felt like that before?”

“Not quite so constantly.” Hofmeyer smiled suddenly and said, “If this weather continues we must have glass on our windows.”

Sheila looked at the gaping holes around them and said, in what she hoped was a bored enough voice, “Yes, indeed.”

There was a pause for safety. And then Hofmeyer said half-amusedly, “Dittmar’s interest in you is most annoying. It changes my plans for you entirely. I can’t ship you back to England now.”

“No. I suppose either I would have to go on pretending to be a German agent in London, or you would all be in danger here. I’m your discovery; if I behave suspiciously, then you’ll be suspected too.”

“Don’t worry. Now that you’ve given us warning about Dittmar, Olszak and I can make our plans.” He looked at her and smiled. “You might have the makings of an agent, after all. Perhaps Olszak was right about hereditary traits.” Sheila smiled happily at the oblique mention of her father. Hofmeyer had paid her a high compliment.

“Of course, if you did go back to England,” Hofmeyer went on, “you could always disappear as effectively as Margareta Koch. In your case, it would mean complete change of identity for the duration of the war.”

“In her case it was...?”

Herr Hofmeyer’s square white face looked blandly at a group of German soldiers. “Exactly,” he said. Then, “She found out too much about us. Dear me, what a lot of cameras the German Army has!”

They had now left Marszalkowska for a quieter side street of balconies and three-storied houses. The architecture had been
noble. No expense had been spared in workmanship. Hofmeyer halted before one of the large double-doors.

“Nothing private to be discussed,” he said so quietly that Sheila wondered if she had heard all his words. She hadn’t expected the journey to end so quickly; she still had questions to ask.

“Madame Aleksander and Korytów?” she asked hurriedly.

“Yes. But don’t be too sympathetic.”

The hall was of marble, with a floor of great beauty. This house had suffered less than the others on the street, and that was why it had been chosen by the Germans. One of the reasons, at least. Another might be its wealth. The ground-floor rooms seemed empty except for workmen. On the broad curve of stairs, she noted the elaborate pattern of marble underfoot, the pieces of sculpture still standing in the wall-niches. Even in spite of traces of dust and water, the beauty of the house survived.

“Who owned this house?” she asked as naturally as she could, as they reached the thick carpets of the first floor. Hofmeyer must have thought her question harmless, for he smiled and nodded approvingly.

“A lawyer. He is an officer in the army, but if he comes back here to see his wife and daughter he will find that his property has been confiscated. He has been known to have expressed opinions against us in the past. The wife and daughter were told to leave two days ago. So the house is empty except for some workmen doing repairs, and some cleaners mopping up after them. In the next few weeks, the other rooms will all be occupied as office suites. Surplus furniture is being removed to Germany along with some of these paintings. They are too
valuable for a private house. They belong in our museums or public buildings.”

Sheila thought of the lawyer’s wife and daughter. Like the dispossessed in Western Poland, they had probably been allowed to take one small bag with them.

Hofmeyer understood her silence. Perhaps he himself had also thought of the wife and daughter. “Plenty of pretty dresses and hats and furs still in the wardrobes,” he said. His smile was bitter. “Do you need some clothes? They’ll be removed soon.” His smile deepened as he saw the look of disgust on her face. He opened the door of his suite of rooms.

They were in what must have been the library. Next to it was a large, extremely comfortable study, and the room beyond that was a bedroom. There was a feeling of great comfort and charm in the rooms’ arrangement. The lawyer had been proud of his home, and the happiness of the family still lingered inside the house.

“You see, I shall live here. It makes my business more efficient,” Hofmeyer said as they finished the tour of inspection, and returned to the library. “Now sit down, Fräulein Braun. We can talk at last. This room will be the outside office. You will work here with two typists who I am now choosing.
Volksdeutsche,
of course. But even so, they will be kept to deal with the problems of table delicacies only. My own office will be that study next door. Fortunately, I had copies of my files which were all destroyed by fire at the Old Square, so once they are installed here you can start work. These bookshelves will be cleared, of course, to make room for our records. The books will be shipped home with the contents of the Warsaw libraries and private collections. A defeated nation does not
need valuable books.”

Home... Home, in this office, now meant Germany. But something in Hofmeyer’s direct stare at the wall of books in front of him interrupted Sheila’s thoughts. “The walls have ears,” he had warned in the street. She followed his stare.
The walls have ears
. And he had drawn her attention particularly to the books. Yes, a dictaphone might very well be hidden somewhere behind these books. She wondered what a dictaphone looked like. It was slightly comic to be dominated by a little mechanical device which you had never seen. Comic? On second thoughts the joke turned sour. It must be quite a strain to live with it constantly.

“Do you expect many Polish customers?” she asked. I hope to God none of them speak their minds in this room, she thought.

“Why not? The Poles have known this firm for many years, and if they can’t pay me in money then they can pay in jewellery or valuables. Besides, I have my clients in Sweden and Switzerland to consider. We need their foreign money. As for my political position, the Polish police hadn’t time to publicise their search for me. Colonel Bolt was killed in the siege. No more than six others at his headquarters knew about me. Five of these have already been arrested by us. Kordus, alone, is unaccounted for. It won’t be long before we have him too. So, to the Poles, I am still a friend.”

“I see.”

“Now, here are two telephone numbers. One is for the ’phone in this office: 4-3210. One for the private ’phone in my own room: 4-6636.”

As he repeated these numbers slowly, he extracted a small
piece of paper from an inside pocket and handed it over to her with a gesture of silence. On it was a third number: 6-2136. Underneath was written “Emergency only. Leave message if unable to reach me.” Sheila concentrated on the figures. So Hofmeyer had another refuge. The two telephones at this address belonged to district number 4. But the special telephone, coming under district 6, was in another part of the city. She handed the sheet of paper back to him.

“Cigarette?” he asked and opened his case. She took one, still memorising the numbers, and watched him strike a match.

“What were the numbers?” he asked.

“Business number: 4-3210. Special number: 4-6636.” Very special number: 6-2136; 6-2136...

They both watched the piece of paper curl into a grey tissue, watched Hofmeyer’s pencil chop it up until all that remained in the ashtray was a fine powder.

“Talking of the Poles,” Hofmeyer said suddenly, “how are your specially chosen friends?”

“I wanted to ask you about them. Frankly, I am worried. I understood that you wanted me to live with Madame Aleksander meanwhile?”

“That was the plan. Stay close beside her and meet her friends.”

“She is recovering from her illness. And she wants to leave Warsaw. She talks continually of going back to Korytów and looking for the children.”

“But she can’t, for then you will have no excuse for staying where you are. Your patient work all this summer will be quite undone. Are you convinced that you can’t persuade her to stay?”

“I have already tried. Tactfully. For invalids are always suspicious. They lie in bed and brood. If I persuade her too much, she may even turn against me. If she insists on going to Korytów, shall I accompany her?”

“Out of the question. Absolutely not.” Hofmeyer rose with one of his surprisingly quick movements, and searched for an atlas among the reference books. He opened it at Central Poland. “Out of the question, Fräulein Braun. See here. Korytów is too insignificant to be marked in this map, but roughly that is its position. Here. Just south of Lowicz. Isn’t that so?”

“Yes.”

“The line between German Poland and Occupied Poland, or the Government General, will run through that district. The proclamation of the partition of Poland will be published tomorrow. It will be put into effect by the twenty-eighth of October. If the Aleksander woman is allowed to return to Korytów, she may be in the incorporated part of Poland. And that means that she would have no contact with her important friends left in Warsaw. She would be quite useless to you for our purposes. You see, the western part of Poland, from the Carpathians just west of Zakopane in the south to the East Prussian border in the north, will become part of Germany. All property is ours. The Poles will be killed or kept for serf labour. That part of the country will be made completely German, this time. And there will be no communication allowed between German Poland and Occupied Poland. If Madame Aleksander were cut off from us here in Warsaw by going to Korytów you would lose your one asset. She will be entirely eliminated if Korytów lies west of the boundary line between German Poland and Occupied Poland. Her lands will be needed for
German settlers from the Baltic States. She may be executed for treason. She may be shipped in a cattle truck to Germany, or to the north-eastern plains of Poland where the weather will take care of those not strong enough to labour for us. So, until we know the definite boundary line of the partition of Poland, she must be kept in Warsaw. Do you understand?”

“Yes, Herr Hofmeyer.”

“Let me see the assets you have in Madame Aleksander,” Hofmeyer was saying as if he were counting the good points in a horse at a fair. “She has one son in diplomatic circles, another who had many friends in government service, a brother who has the trust of the Warsaw University faculty, a cousin who is a general, another who is a bishop, another was a member of that band of parliamentary fools they called a
Sejm
. Yes, it was a powerful family, and its name still carries respect among the Poles.”

Sheila stared, fascinated. She hadn’t known all that. “Her daughter-in-law comes of a great commercial clan, I believe,” she said, remembering the ill-fated Eugenia. “It owned many big businesses and shops throughout Poland.”

“Yes, a powerful family. That was why I wanted you to win their trust. For our office has two functions. One is to be in contact with people who might hear important news and unwittingly supply us with it. The other is to try and persuade some Poles to work with our Government General. That would always help us initially. Later when their usefulness to us was over, they could be disposed of like the other Poles.”

Hofmeyer was pacing the room, now. His whole performance was convincing. It was cold, callous and calculating. Whoever was interested in the concealed dictaphone would only find
two worried Germans shaping their plans to bring honour to themselves and power to their Reich.

Hofmeyer stopped his pacing, abruptly. “I have an idea, but I must discuss it with another department first. If they approve it, then you will make a quick journey to Korytów and bring back the children to Madame Aleksander and Warsaw. That will make you a heroine in Polish eyes, and your position will be assured. You can invent the difficulties you had to face. Actually, from this other department I hope to get facilities to make your journey there very simple. I shall ’phone you tomorrow, and give you instructions.”

“The ’phone wasn’t working this morning. I think it’s probably going to be out of order for some days.”

“Nonsense, Fräulein Braun. Do you think that we shall leave that excellent district, which has been less destroyed than any other, unrequisitioned? And naturally if our officers and officials are going to take over those apartments, we shall certainly see all repairs are done there before other districts. You are now living under your country’s rule, Fräulein Braun, and not under slipshod English methods. I shouldn’t be surprised to hear that our workmen have already started on their job in that quarter, while you were absent.”

Sheila said meekly, “Yes, Herr Hofmeyer,” and watched Hofmeyer’s grave wink. That last sentence had seemed peculiar in many ways. Why had he chosen to add the unnecessary “while you were absent” phrase? And why nod as emphasis to the “you”? He was staring so fixedly now at the bookcases that she realised he was trying to warn her of something by the association of ideas. She looked at the bookshelves, too, and she thought of a dictaphone. That was it: the workmen
might install a dictaphone. The walls had ears. In her simpleminded way she had thought that only meant the walls here. Now Hofmeyer, who had sensed her mistake, was trying to warn her. He was watching her face, and he now showed the relief of a man who had remembered in time to give an added caution, and who saw that it had been accepted.