Rayas colony legacy, p.31
Operation Tulip, page 31
‘The only trouble is guns and ammo,’ Erik said. ‘Gerard’s locked all small arms in the instruments cupboard in the operating theatre, in case the Nazis search the place, and the cupboard’s always locked.’
‘Except when they’re operating,’ Pim said. ‘Which is nearly all the time.’
Nancy sighed. ‘We can’t go in during an operation.’
‘Why not?’ Pim asked. ‘I do it all the time. I like to watch. I’m going to be a doctor one day.’
Nancy turned to Erik and raised her eyebrows. ‘It’s a chance, isn’t it?’
Erik made a face. But then he turned to Pim. ‘Listen, if we make a list, can you try and smuggle out some weapons and ammunition? And make sure they match.’
‘What do you think I am, stupid? I’ll have to wait until they’re very busy, then do it bit by bit, so they don’t see me.’
Nancy turned to Erik. ‘D’you think it’s possible?’
Erik shrugged. ‘No idea. But if the kid says he can do it, then I guess we’d better believe him. Worst thing that could happen is he gets Gerard’s back up for pilfering.’
‘What are our chances of getting Tom out?’
‘About one per cent above zero. Getting out – possible. Getting away? Questionable. But I’ll concentrate on disabling the driver, because you’ll need me to drive, and we need to have a route planned that goes through the minimum of checkpoints.’
*
The following day Tom heard a commotion in the corridor and the clank of the keys. He shot to his feet. When the door opened a shoe hit him hard in the chest, followed by the other.
‘Raus!’ a uniformed Green yelled. ‘Raus!’
He’d barely time to shove his shoes on his feet before they yelled at him again to move. They were Dutch police, ones he’d never seen before. Both were armed and prodded him out of the cell and down the corridor. The shock made his heart thump in his chest as if it was trying to get out. Was this it, the interrogation he’d feared?
But to his confusion, they bullied him out of the front of the building to a car pulled up directly outside. A car. Nancy had said there’d be a car.
He had a frantic look around but could see nobody, just the glint of sun on a nearby fire escape and the flap of the red Nazi banner that hung on the front of the police station.
The Greens were about to push him into the back seat of the car, when he heard the ringing of feet on metal, and a scrawny figure rushed down the fire escape opposite. Everyone turned their heads to look. Tom pulled, trying to break free.
An almighty bang as the boy fired a gun directly at them. His arm jerked and the shot went wide, skimming the bonnet of the car with a metallic screech. The driver crouched and shot out of the side of the car, just as the man gripping Tom’s arm thrust at his shoulders to cram Tom into the back, but Tom clung to the sides of the door frame.
Another shot followed but by now the Green on his other side had got out his pistol and was firing back.
The lad was on the pavement now, red-faced, backing away, still firing what seemed like random shots. Tom saw he was only young, wide-eyed and jumpy, his freckles standing out over his nose. He kept firing but every shot made his arm recoil and the shots went to the sky. The last shot was a mere click.
Out of ammunition. The lad looked at his gun in horror, as if it had let him down. Instantly, his face took on a look of fear and he began shrinking away. One of the Greens followed him, took careful aim and fired. The boy’s chest caved in but he took a few more tottering steps backwards, empty gun wavering. From nowhere, a woman thrust herself in front of the boy.
‘Don’t fire!’ she yelled in Dutch.
Nancy! The fool! What was she doing? Behind her the boy whimpered and held his bleeding chest as he crumpled slowly to the ground.
The Green took aim again.
No you don’t, you bastard. Tom lunged to knock the gun out of his hand, but only hit his forearm and the shot went wide.
Meanwhile the gunfire had brought Schneider striding out from the station, his pistol in both hands extended to arm’s length.
Tom twisted hard, just in time to see Erik shoot the driver at point blank range. Where had Erik come from? It was enough distraction for Tom to knee his captor in the groin. The Green staggered, fell to his knees and dropped his pistol. Tom scrabbled to grab it from the ground.
As he stood up, he glimpsed Erik grab the keys to the car and thrust them in his pocket, and Tom leapt towards Nancy. But before he had time to think, Erik’s arm around his neck brought him up short, and dragged him down behind the car.
‘Leave it,’ Erik hissed. ‘Unless you want a gun battle with the whole of the Wehrmacht. Let them think we’ve gone.’
‘But what about Nancy?’
‘It’s a dead end. D’you want to get shot?’ Erik yanked on his arm to drag him across the road. They went round the back into a filthy yard and in through a broken window of a disused shop. Nothing inside except the smell of damp and the scuttle of spiders on the empty shelves.
They peered out through the side of the blind. The Green on the ground had recovered and was running to the alley. Moments later, Schneider strode out, ahead of the two Greens who had Nancy struggling between them.
A few moments later they’d taken her into the police station, and the big black door closed. There was no sign of the lad. Tom guessed he was dead.
His worst nightmare. He was free, but now they’d got Nancy. He punched hard on the brick wall feeling the pain radiate up his arm, but it didn’t stop the feeling of wanting to scream.
‘We’ve got about half an hour,’ Erik said. ‘After that amount of fire, they’ll be sending soldiers to search these buildings. We have to wait until one of the men goes for reinforcements.’
‘Won’t he just telephone?’
‘No. If Pim did his job, he cut the wires.’
‘I need to go get her out.’
‘No. Our best chance is to stay watchful, wait for the best moment. Now, calm down and check that gun’s loaded.’
Chapter 40
Nancy had stopped struggling. It was against her dignity. The Greens took her into a bare room where Schneider was gazing out of the barred window.
‘Sit down,’ Fritz said, without turning.
She didn’t sit. She wouldn’t obey any command from him.
When he didn’t hear a noise, he turned, eyes narrowed.
She put her chin up and returned his stare. It had been a reflex reaction to smile because she knew him, but she’d swallowed it. He was thin. His face was gaunt, and he had dark shadows under his bloodshot eyes, which were flickering, as if some other film was running in his head.
He licked his chapped lips. ‘So Danique, you should have given me written notice if you wanted to leave my employment. And we never did get another dinner date. I wonder why that was? Could it have been because your name is not really Danique?’
Nancy folded her arms but wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of answering.
‘I’m informed by your friend Greta van Schelle that your name is Nancy. And you are English.’
‘Not English,’ she answered with a touch of defiance, ‘Scottish.’
‘So? No difference. We will need all your history. Of course we will. But for now, I would like to see Danique again.’ He turned to the man by the door. ‘Get this woman soap and water and some good clothes. You will find a suitcase of women’s clothes in the wardrobe at my apartment. A good suit and shoes. Bring them and dress her.’
He brought out a key from his inside pocket and put it on the table.
The Green frowned. ‘But sir, isn’t it a little irregular—’
‘Just do it.’ The man backed away.
‘I refuse,’ Nancy said. ‘I won’t be manhandled by your men.’
Fritz smiled but it was only a fraction of a smile. ‘You either do it conscious or unconscious. Your choice.’
She had no choice, she thought bitterly. But agreeing might give her a chance to escape.
‘And don’t think to escape,’ he said as if to read her thoughts. ‘Two men are to accompany you at all times.’ He turned to them. ‘Stay armed, and make sure she never gets a chance to run.’
‘Yes, sir.’
‘Take her away and bring her back to me when she’s presentable. And you,’ he jabbed a finger at the other Green, ‘our telephone’s not working. Get it fixed. And when your colleague returns, take a message to head office to bring a detachment of men to search the area. An English agent, and maybe an accomplice, escaped onto Jaaverstraat. Schnell!’
*
Every moment Nancy was looking for a means to escape, but it never arose. One of the men, the skinny nervous one, brought a basin of cold water to her cell and insisted she wash.
Courage, she thought. Nancy closed her mind to the indignities of washing with a man squinting at her through the hatch, and the fear that made her have all-over goosebumps.
‘Everywhere,’ the man said.
The cold water made her mind sharp. All the time she was running through possibilities. Tom had got away; she should be thankful for small mercies. She tried to concentrate on one thing at a time. The feel of the soap, the sting of it in her eyes. She tried not to think of her own situation or the fact that they would certainly kill her soon.
She hadn’t had good soap for so long. The silky feel of it made her want to cry. But she pressed her lips together and washed as the man watched through the hatch like she was a peepshow. At least he hadn’t tried to touch her. Too scared of Schneider probably.
By the time he’d thrown in a rough towel, the other had arrived with a bag of clothes. He pointed to the cloth bag as he lobbed it through the door. ‘Dress. Hurry,’ he said waving his gun at her.
She dried herself hastily, anxious to get covered. When she pulled out the clothes, the underwear smelled of jasmine, a perfume she never wore. She wondered what woman had worn these last. A Jewess, or a rich Parisian? Until she unbuttoned the blouse and saw an embroidered name tape: D. Koopman.
A shiver. What was Fritz up to? Had he lost his mind, or was this some macabre game he was playing? She dragged out the lace-trimmed slip, anxious to cover her underwear. Her legs were shockingly thin and white.
She was shivering because her skin was still damp. The suit had been made in Paris, but the jacket and skirt, which were beautifully cut, were a little on the large side. There were even shoes. Too big. Lace-ups with a heel. She’d no choice but to put them on and pray for a moment to escape.
‘I need to use the toilet,’ she said, to the man breathing through the hatch, hoping to get some privacy, figure out how to get away.
He opened the door. ‘No. Now you come,’ he said in accented Dutch. ‘SS-Obersturmführer Schneider is waiting.’
*
Nancy took a deep breath and sat down in the unfamiliar clothes, pulling the skirt down over her knees. The interrogation room was the same but Fritz had taken off his cap, so his wiry hair was oiled flat against his head, making his cheekbones stand out even more sharply under his skin.
‘Very nice,’ he said, looking her up and down. A bottle of Dutch brandy was on the bare wood table, almost drained. ‘Drink, Danique?’ He pushed the bottle towards her.
She shook her head and kept her voice low. ‘What do you want, Fritz?’
‘I’m afraid we won’t have our dinner tonight,’ Fritz said, ‘unless you choose to cooperate. I need to ask you some questions. I trust that is all right with you?’
His false politeness stuck in her craw. Was he drunk? His hand was shaking.
She watched as he drew a file towards him, opened it and uncapped a pen. Surely he wasn’t going to sit there and pretend she was Danique?
He leaned back and took another swig of brandy. ‘Now. It seems to me you have only two choices. You can continue to keep me company as Danique, just the way you used to, and give me the name and whereabouts of the other contacts working for the British.’
No. She would never betray them.
He tapped the pen lid on the desk. ‘Think about it. My friends in the SS intelligence service are looking for a woman like you who has good contacts with the British. If you do that and work for us, then your life will be very pleasant. Good food, fine clothes.’
‘And no self-respect.’
‘We will find your friends anyway. The other choice is that my men will beat it out of you. And as I still have fondness for you Danique, I strongly advise you to take the former path.’
‘You talk of fondness, but only when you want something. I know who my real friends are.’ She looked up and fixed him with an icy gaze. ‘What would you do in my position, Fritz? Would you betray your friends?’
She saw him wince, as though she had struck him a blow. ‘This is the last time I will ask. Will you—’
‘Save your breath.’ She stood up, defiant. ‘You’ll get nothing from me.’
Chapter 41
From the window of the shop, Tom watched one of the Greens come out of the heavy black door of the station. He cast a wary glance up and down the street before strolling around the Nazi car, which was parked right outside.
‘He’s checking the car,’ Tom said.
Erik went to look over his shoulder. ‘He can’t move it, because I’ve got the key.’
The Green shrugged and walked briskly away.
By this time the other Green had appeared on the doorstep, heavily armed, a German machine gun over his shoulder.
‘We can’t get in,’ said Erik. ‘Not with him standing there.’
‘Take a pot shot at him from here?’
‘If we miss, it’ll give away where we are. No, we wait. Wait for the right moment.’
‘What if it never comes?’
Erik didn’t answer but kept his eyes glued to the thin crack between blind and window.
Tom couldn’t be still. The words that Schneider had told him, about how he was Nancy’s lover, needled him. What would he do to her? He crouched behind Erik. ‘What’s going on now?’
‘Patience. We wait until the man on the doorstep gets bored and goes back inside. Take him by surprise.’
Another torture of waiting. Tom wished he had his watch but Schneider had confiscated it when he took his shoes and it had never been returned. ‘What time is it now?’
‘He’s still there. Oh, wait, the other guy’s back. He’s got a parcel with him.’
Tom leapt to the window.
‘He’s gone in. The other man too. Now’s our chance. We get into that alley and wait, okay?’
Tom’s heart lurched. He was ahead of Erik, scrambling out of the back window and into the fresh air. A quick look left and right, then a wild dash across the street until breathlessly they ducked into the alley. The young lad’s body was still there, eyes staring up into the blue; blood a dark mess on the front of his shirt.
‘Poor sod,’ said Erik.
‘Who is he?’
‘Pim. His parents were resistance members.’ A soft shake of the head. ‘Lad’s gone the same place as they have now, God rest him.’ He peered out of the alley. ‘Damn, the Green’s back on the doorstep.’
They waited there, out of sight, nerves tingling, dreading that more police would come. Every now and then, one of them would risk poking a nose out to look.
At last Tom saw someone coming out. ‘The one with the parcel. He’s come out again and gone up the road. The other one’s gone inside.’
Erik pushed past him to look. ‘You ready? We don’t want to join Pim.’
‘I’m shitting myself,’ Tom said.
‘Join the club. You take out the guard, I’ll go find Schneider. He knows me, so it might give us a bit more time. Then this is what we do when we get in there.’ He outlined the plan.
Tom held out his left hand, the one that wasn’t holding the gun.
Erik laughed. ‘Ever the Englishman.’ But he took it and clasped it all the same. ‘Good luck,’ he said.
The next few moments were a blur. Tom burst through the door but saw no-one. Then to his left an open door. He put his head around the corner just in time to see the Green get up from a chair. He didn’t think, just pulled the trigger. A single shot, and the man fell. Tom gaped; he was astonished it was so easy. But there could be more men, so he crept along the corridor until he came to a sharp right turn.
The passage was empty. Along here were the cells. The first two were vacant, but then in the last one he opened the hatch to see a well-dressed woman, just walking away from the door. Could it be? He knocked gently on the hatch.
Nancy startled and turned.
He knocked again. She stared a moment with eyes wide and then put her face up close.
‘Tom?’ he saw her mouth move but couldn’t hear her.
He pressed two fingers to his lips and then to the glass. ‘I’m going to get you out,’ he mouthed.
*
Fritz put his head in his hands. He had drunk the rest of the brandy and now the walls of the room were swaying. He’d thought Danique would see sense. How could she not? It shocked him that she’d choose death, rather than to live with him. He’d stumbled back to his office to decide what to do, when he heard a shot outside.
The reinforcements. He got unsteadily to his feet, and tried to get out another round of bullets from his desk drawer. Some of them scattered from the box as he loaded his gun. He leant to peer out of the window onto the street. Everything looked quiet at this side of the building.
A knock at his door. The knock was reassuring. This would be his men now. He went to open it.
Erik Neumann was in the corridor. Fritz held the door open for him to come in and put his gun on the table as he sat back down at his desk. ‘I heard a shot. What’s all the fuss,’ he asked blearily. ‘Have they found anyone?’
‘No.’ Erik reached over and swiped the gun towards him. ‘And I don’t think they will. But on the other hand, you, like many of my race, will be getting on the train to Westerbork.’
What was he talking about? ‘You’re …?’
‘Yes. I’m a Jew, though I’ve spent nine years hiding it from men like you.’
