He considered letting her know that he couldn’t come. He was fairly sure Maria was ready and willing to go to bed with him anytime, anywhere. Before Tereza, he would have been just as willing to go to bed with her. But he was truly in love for the first time in his life. He had no interest in going to bed with anyone but Tereza. But it was his duty to get as much information as possible and funnel it through his contact, so he had to go. He called her R.S.V.P. phone number and advised the maid that he’d be able to attend.

  #

  A shirt without a button was what he needed. Going to a tailor shop with a briefcase didn’t look natural, but if he were carrying a shirt on a hanger, he wouldn’t arouse any suspicion. He looked through his shirts and found one he’d shuffled aside because it had a button missing. It was slightly faded and worn to the soft and comfortable stage. He put the Gestapo jacket, still wrapped in paper and tied with string, in his briefcase. He felt a little silly carrying a shirt on a hanger through town, but if that’s what it took, that’s what he’d do.

  Bedrich Hrabe was a small man with a large mustache and gold-rimmed glasses. He was cutting fabric at a table at the back of the shop. He put down his scissors. “May I help you?”

  “I have two items that need some work. The first is a shirt with a button missing. Do you have a button that would match?”

  The tailor’s look said anyone ought to know how to sew on a button. “I’m sure I do.”

  Anton opened the briefcase and took out the bundle. “This is a jacket with a hole in the front. Can you reweave it?”

  “I’ll have to see it to know for sure.” He untied the string, opened the paper, and held the jacket up. He looked at Anton for what seemed like a long time. “I believe I can mend it. It won’t be perfect, but it won’t be terribly noticeable.”

  “There’s also a faint stain. Can you do anything about that?”

  “I’ll see what I can do.”

  “When can I pick up the garments?”

  “Give me a week. I’m working on a rush order for a wedding. I need your name.” He now had a pen poised over a slip.

  “Call me Hans.” Anton hadn’t been thinking about being asked his name, and he answered on the spur of the moment.

  “What’s your phone number?”

  “I don’t have a phone. I’ll come back in a week.”

  “I’ll try to have it ready by then.” He wrapped the jacket in the paper again and tied it with the string. He started toward the back of the shop, and Anton left.

  He had considered phoning Maria Dvorakova’s in-laws to arrange to see them, but he decided they might refuse to see him if he did that. It would be better to just show up at their door and introduce himself. He’d go by there now before going to the office.

  Their house wasn’t far from Teta Adelka’s, so he’d stop in and see her, too. He found the address Maria had given him and knocked on the door. A maid answered, and he gave her his name and asked to see Mr. Dvorak. She showed him into a library and asked him to wait. Mr. Dvorak appeared shortly, and Anton stood and extended his hand. “I’m Anton Janak. I’ve been retained to represent Maria Dvorakova in the matter of her husband’s will.”

  Mr. Dvorak was a thoughtful, unassuming-looking man. He shook Anton’s hand. “Please have a seat. Would you like coffee?”

  The invitation was a surprise. “Yes, please. That would be a pleasure.”

  He rang a bell for the maid and asked her to bring coffee. “Mrs. Dvorakova is shopping now and won’t be back for hours, but I can speak for both of us. We’re determined Maria won’t be able to profit from our son’s death. We begged him not to marry her, but he always was headstrong. She’s stolen from us and spent so much money that we had to bail them out several times. Now she’s determined to sell my brother’s estate in the country. All this, and the numerous affairs she’s had have been too much.”

  “I can understand your frustration, but the will seems to be clear. I don’t see how you can dispute it. Would you be willing to buy your brother’s estate if she’s willing to sell it?”

  “I refuse to give the woman another cent, even to buy the property.”

  The maid appeared with a tray that held two cups of coffee, an urn with more, and a plate with two kolaches. “Please help yourself to those,” the host said. “I don’t eat them.”

  Anton did help himself, gladly. The coffee was decent, too. Mr. Dvorak was an unusually gracious host, considering the circumstances. “The kolaches are delicious,” he said.

  “Our cook makes those when she can get all the ingredients, which isn’t too often these days. How’s your law firm doing with this nasty occupation in place?”

  “We’re making it. I share an office with three other attorneys, and we manage to pay the rent and utility bills with a little left over.” Anton picked up the second kolache. “You have quite a fascinating library here.”

  “We enjoy it. My wife and I are both readers.” He refilled both their cups from the urn. “Did you say your name’s Janak?”

  “Yes, Anton Janak.”

  “Are you related to Miss Adelka Janakova?”

  “She’s my aunt. I’ll be on my way to see her when I leave here. Do you know her?”

  “Yes, we go to the same church. Have for years. Give her my regards. She’s a fine lady.”

  Half the people in town knew Teta Adelka and seemed to give him their stamp of approval because of it. “I certainly will. I’m sure she’ll be glad to hear from you.” Anton had now finished off the second kolache. “I must be on my way. I appreciate your hospitality.” He shook Mr. Dvorak’s hand again, and the elderly man walked with him to the door. He obviously felt there was nothing more to be said about his son’s estate.

  The meeting wasn’t at all what Anton had expected. He had anticipated hostility and probably a refusal to talk to him once he made his purpose known. The Dvoraks obviously were well-to-do, with a maid, a cook, and a wife spending the day shopping. Their house was impressive, too. Mr. Dvorak was a puzzle.

  Anton walked on to Teta Adelka’s house and knocked on the door. She answered, explaining that Zita was shopping. Zita was “shopping” in an alley where vendors sold produce stashed under their coats, Anton imagined. But whatever it took to keep his aunt eating was fine with him. He kissed her cheek. “I’ve just been talking with Mr. Dvorak. He sends his regards.”

  “You were talking with Mr. Dvorak?”

  “Yes. It involves a case. I can’t talk about it.”

  “I’m sure it involves that daughter-in-law of theirs. The whole church is buzzing about her behavior.”

  Anton laughed. “You mean all you church-goers are gossips?”

  “Don’t be impertinent, young man. It’s just that the Dvoraks are wonderful people, and we all feel sorry for them.”

  “I apologize. How is everything going here? Are you getting enough to eat?”

  “Plenty. Zita manages to get food, and I don’t ask how. How’s my Rosalie doing?”

  Anton’s uneasiness about the car returned. “Fine. I’ll be picking you up for church on Sunday.” He hoped she wouldn’t notice the patch on the roof, the hole in the ceiling, or question the blanket covering the front seat, something threadbare he’d found in a second-hand shop. When the war was over, he’d take the Rosalie to the best body shop in town for repairs and painting.

  “Would you like some tea?”

  He just had coffee and kolaches, but he’d drink tea in order to spend a little time with her. “Yes, please. Nothing to eat, though. I just had kolaches with Mr. Dvorak.” Leave the food for her and Zita.

  Adelka had just gone to the kitchen when he heard a thump. It sounded as if it came from upstairs. He went to the kitchen and stood in the doorway. “Did you hear that noise?”

  She took the kettle, which was steaming on the stove, and poured water into the teapot. “I didn’t hear anything.”

  “I did. I wonder if you have an animal upstairs. I’m sure the noise came from up there.”

  “I think you’re imagining things, darling. Go sit down, and we’ll have tea.”

  “I’m going upstairs to check first. Now that you’re living down here, if an animal gets in up there it could damage all kinds of things.”

  “I’ll have Zita check later. Have your tea and tell me what you’ve been doing.”

  Why was she trying to deter him? “I’ll be right back.” He took the stairs two at a time. When he got to the top and looked down the hallway, he could see that one of the bedroom doors was closed. He opened the door and saw a young man stretched out on the bed, reading. “Who the hell are you, and what are you doing here?”

  The man sat up and swung his legs off the edge of the bed. “I’m a friend of Zita’s, and I had nowhere to stay. She’s letting me stay here temporarily till I can find a job.”

  “Does Miss Janakova know about this?” Anton heard a noise behind him.

  Adelka was standing in the doorway. “Yes, I know about it.”

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  “It’s alright, Anton. He’s simply a friend of Zita’s who needed a place to stay for a short time.

  “If that’s what’s going on, then why didn’t you tell me about him when I told you I heard a noise upstairs?”

  “Because you had no need to know. Now let’s go downstairs and have that tea. Forget you saw him.”

  There was a lot more to this than they were telling him, and he was sure the man’s presence put his aunt in danger. “Let’s go to the kitchen.”

  They sat at the kitchen table, and Adelka poured tea with a smile on her face. He got the impression that she wasn’t willing to tell him any more. “I need to know what’s going on, and I’m not leaving here until I know the truth.” He sipped his tea and leaned back in his chair as if he meant it.

  She looked into her cup as if searching for answers there. Then she looked him in the eye. “He’s a member of the resistance. The Gestapo is searching for him. I only know that he’s waiting for a way to get out of town.”

  Anton shook his head. “Damn! Excuse my language, but don’t you know how dangerous it is, having him here?”

  “We’re managing.”

  “What do you mean, you’re managing?”

  “They came looking for him. They were searching all the houses in Mala Strana. Zita got him into one of my dresses and my gardening shoes, and we pretended he was the cook.”

  Anton burst out laughing at the ridiculousness of it. “Good God! Next thing I know, you’ll be recruited by the resistance. This fooled the Gestapo?”

  “Yes.” She sipped her tea as if this were an everyday occurrence.

  “How long has he been here?”

  “I’m not certain. I didn’t make a note of the date of his arrival. It’s been a while.”

  “Days? Weeks?”

  She poured more tea. “I suppose it’s weeks.”

  “You can expect him to disappear from your house very soon. And now I need to use your phone.” He signaled his contact for an immediate meeting at Our Lady of Victory Church. “What’s his name?”

  “All I know is Gustav.”

  He finished his tea, and as he was walking out the door, said, “Promise me you won’t take in any more fugitives.”

  A smile was her only answer.

  #

  He waited twenty minutes at the church before the contact appeared. He sat beside Anton when he arrived.

  “There’s a man named Gustav at my aunt’s house. He needs to be removed from there immediately.”

  “We know. We’re working on it.”

  “You could have let me know.”

  “Why? You would have been worrying about the situation, a situation you have no control over.”

  “I am worrying. None of this should have involved my aunt.” Then he felt the familiar twinge of guilt for commandeering her car, for involving her to that extent. He was just as guilty as Zita for putting Teta Adelka in danger.

  “It certainly wasn’t planned. He was on the run and he met a friend who took him there.”

  “Am I to be the one to get him out of Prague?”

  “No. We have other plans. Couple more days, and he’ll be gone.”

  “If he isn’t, I’ll pick him up myself and drop him off out in the country somewhere like a stray dog.”

  #

  Anton took his tuxedo to the office on Saturday so he could get some work done there before being picked up for the party. He was undecided about whether to give Mrs. Horakova his apartment address. If she insisted on a phone number, he’d give her the one at the office.

  Karel was the only one in the office that day. He came into Anton’s office and sat in front of the desk. “Looks like you’re partying tonight.”

  “Yes, nothing exciting. A friend of my aunt’s gives these little soirees, and she’s decided to start inviting me.”

  “A friend of your aunt’s? That doesn’t sound like something you’d attend. Unless that woman who was in here the other day would be going too.”

  Anton’s three partners were married, and they tended to be envious of what they considered his carefree bachelor lifestyle. “I’m not sure who’ll be there.” He shuffled papers on his desk, signaling Karel that he had work to do, but his partner didn’t take the hint.

  “Vaclav tells me she’s a widow.”

  “Who’s a widow?”

  “The woman who was here the other day.”

  Anton smiled in what he hoped was a secretive manner. “Yes, she’s a widow. There’s a problem with her husband’s will.”

  “Have you made any headway with her?”

  “Karel, for God’s sake, let’s not discuss ladies in that manner.”

  “I have a feeling she’s no lady, but you’ve probably found that out already, you handsome dog!”

  Anton laughed. “Shut up and get out. I have work to do.”

  Karel got up and went to the door. “The rest of us could live an exotic voyeuristic life through you if you’d only cooperate.”

  Anton laughed again. “Out!” and Karel went back to his office.

  #

  He took his tuxedo to the restroom and changed, and then waited by the front door to be picked up. The black Mercedes arrived exactly at eight-thirty. The driver was the same young German who had driven Eliska and him to the previous party and the train station. They arrived shortly before nine, and the maid showed him to the dining room.

  Mrs. Horakova captured him at the entrance and took him around for introductions to those he hadn’t met before and to several he had met. A hostess couldn’t be expected to remember who had met whom, he reasoned, and he greeted everyone with equal cordiality. The hostess introduced him to a young lady named Tanya Horakova, her niece, who had come in from the country for a visit. The butler announced dinner, and Anton found he was seated next to Tanya. He suspected Mrs. Horakova was set on finding a husband for her plain, plump relative. Seated on the other side of her was Frederich Hesse, the young colonel who was to be transferred to Norway within days.

  Maria was seated nearby beside Hans Schiller. He needed to tell her about the visit with her father-in-law, but didn’t know if he’d have the chance tonight. Maybe when they were dancing—or was this the place to discuss an unpleasant subject? Probably not.

  He hadn’t eaten all day, and he ate everything he was served and wished for more. He found it interesting that several of the guests left food on their plates. They must be eating better than he was. Tanya chatted with him about her life on the farm and how much she was enjoying Prague. She mentioned that she’d enjoy going to a ballet or the opera, and he figured she was hoping he’d ask to take her. He resisted and hoped Col. Hesse would hear her plea.

  The meal ended, and they adjourned to the drawing room. The same trio that played at the last party was in place, already playing a waltz. Maria approached him immediately and asked him to dance. “Did you have a chance to talk to my in-laws?” she asked as they whirled around the floor.

  Now that she asked, he guessed an unpleasant subject could be discussed. “I saw your father-in-law. His wife wasn’t home. He seemed to be dead set against buying the country estate from you, and since you said you weren’t interested in selling to them anyway, I didn’t pursue the subject. He’s determined to contest the will, and nothing I said changed his mind.”

  “I knew he’d react like that. So what’s the next step?”

  “I’d suggest we go ahead and probate the will. I don’t see how they can contest it successfully. Your husband had no mental problems, did he?”

  “None at all, but that’s a miracle, with parents like his.”

  “Come to the office this week. We’ll get the process started.”

  “Why don’t you come to my place? We’ll be more comfortable there.”

  “I’ll call you. We’ll arrange something.”

  Hans Schiller had been staring at them as they danced, and he walked up now and cut in. Anton graciously bowed out and went to stand on the side. He wished he hadn’t come, and nothing was happening that provided useful information. The evening wore on, and he danced with various ladies without finding out anything for his contact. He had danced with Tanya earlier, and he was looking for her again when he heard a noise outside. It sounded like a muffled gunshot. Then he heard a woman screaming.

  Tanya ran into the drawing room from the terrace. “He’s been shot,” she screamed. Tears ran down her face.

  Schiller went to her. “Who is it?”

  “Frederich! He’s been shot!”

  Schiller walked to the terrace and out of sight. When he came back, “Everyone is to stay here till we’ve had a chance to talk to you. Now I must use the phone.” He left the room.

  A long night loomed ahead. Now Anton really wished he hadn’t come. He remembered when he stood on the terrace with Eliska that it was surrounded by heavy shrubbery, and unless Hesse had accidentally shot himself, someone must have been hiding in the bushes.

  Before long the house was filled with Nazi uniforms. They interviewed each of the party-goers, asking for their name, address, and telephone number. An earnest young officer took Anton’s information. “You’re to report to SS headquarters first thing Monday morning. We’ll need a statement.”

 

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