“I didn’t know anything was in season,” Elaine said in obvious reference to the hunting rifle the man had been carrying.
“I don’t think anything is,” Netty chuckled. “But Jaegermeisters can carry weapons anytime in case they run into dangerous game in the woods.”
“Or Americans without invitations?” Elaine asked.
“I wouldn’t be surprised, from what Fred tells me, if there were three or four Jaegermeisters around here looking for things that don’t belong.”
The road wound upward for about a kilometer—which both women, as Army wives, had learned to call “a klick”—through an immaculate pine forest. And then the trees were gone and what had to be das Haus im Wald was visible.
It was large but simple. It looked, Netty thought, somehow out of place in the open country. Like a house from the city that had suddenly been transplanted to the country.
Halfway between the trees and the house was another Jaegermeister with a rifle slung from his shoulder. He didn’t get into the road, but stepped to the side of it and took off his cap in respect as the Mercedes rolled past him.
The left of the double doors of das Haus im Wald opened and a slim woman in a black dress, her blond hair gathered in a bun at her neck, stepped out onto a small stone verandah, shrugging into a woolen shawl as she did so.
“Is that her?” Elaine asked.
“I don’t know,” Netty said. “I’ve never met her, and I don’t think I’ve ever seen a picture of her. Fred knows her— or at least has met her. He knew her father pretty well.”
Fred was Colonel Frederick J. Lustrous, Armor, United States Army, to whom Netty had been married for more than half her life.
Netty pulled the car in beside another Mercedes—which she recognized to be that of Oberburgermeister Eric Liptz of Fulda—and stopped as the blond woman in the shawl came off the verandah.
“That’s the Liptzes’ car, right?” Elaine asked. “Meaning Inge’s here?”
“I hope so,” Netty said. “But that’s their car.”
She unfastened her seat belt, opened the door, and got out.
“Mrs. Lustrous?” the slim blond woman asked in English.
“Netty Lustrous,” Netty said.
“Welcome to the House in the Woods,” the blond woman said, offering her hand. “I’m Erika Gossinger.”
Her English is accentless, Netty thought. Neither Brit nor American.
And she didn’t say “Erika von und zu Gossinger.” Interesting. On purpose?
The von und zu business reflected the German fascination —obsession?—with social class. It identified someone whose family had belonged to the landowning nobility.
Was it that Erika felt that was nonsense? Or that she was trying to be democratic? Or just that she had just dropped the phrase for convenience?
“Thank you having us,” Netty said.
“Thank you for coming,” Erika said.
Elaine came around the front of the Mercedes.
“This is my good friend Frau Elaine Naylor, Frau Gossinger,” Netty said.
The invitation, engraved in German, had said that Frau Erika von und zu Gossinger would be pleased to receive at luncheon at das Haus im Wald Frauoberst Natalie Lustrous (and one lady friend). A separate engraved card in the envelope had a map, showing how to reach the property, which was several klicks outside Bad Hersfeld.
The women shook hands.
“Our friend Inge is already here,” Erika said. “As is Pastor Dannberg. Why don’t we go in the house?”
“Thank you,” Netty said.