Midnight Hunter

Blinking away fresh tears I ask, “Why does Heydrich hate you so much?”

“Professional jealousy. Impatience. I may not always have been…” He gives me an eloquent half-shrug that I take to mean that he’s made the younger officer’s life hard in the past, but he doesn’t much care. I can easily believe that Reinhardt looks upon Heydrich as an upstart and a sneak, and perhaps he is if he really went behind Reinhardt’s back over the bakery raid. To Reinhardt, Heydrich is an annoyance. A nobody. But look what nearly happened. I was on the verge of handing the young captain everything he needed to put Reinhardt in prison. Heydrich is dangerous.

“For him, the quick way up is preferable to the hard, slow way. I’ve always preferred the hard, slow way. It yields better results.” Reinhardt’s eyes narrow on my face and then he stands up, straightening his jacket. “So, do you believe what I’m telling you? That your contact is not your friend, but your enemy and mine, and that they’re working for Heydrich?”

I consider this for several minutes. “I don’t know. It’s occurred to me that telling me my contact is lying to me is your way of preventing my escape.”

“A little elaborate, isn’t it? How long do you suppose it would take for me to ascertain your daily movements from Fräulein Hoffman and the other secretaries who work on our floor? There can’t be many people at HQ whom you come into contact with.”

There’s something in that. He could probably find Peter quite easily if he wanted to. I’m still chewing my lip when he continues.

“Here’s what’s going to happen. You will continue to tail me and feed your contact empty reports. I talk to the border guards, I drive about the city. They will eventually lose interest.”

I stare up at him, not able to believe what I’m hearing. Just like that, as if nothing happened tonight?

“You will not tell me who your contact is. It’s better I don’t know. That way I can’t be tempted to strangle him or her in the corridors as they pass by.”

I believe that he would, too. I watch him light a cigarette with an assured air, comfortable in the knowledge that the danger has passed. “The important thing is that they don’t find out who you really are.”

But I don’t feel as confident as Reinhardt. In fact I’m certain, deadly certain, that Peter is going to figure out who I am. If he works for the Stasi then he’ll have access to files, identification papers, official photographs. My father’s file. My file. My photograph will be in Evony Daumler’s records.

I take a deep breath. “Reinhardt, I don’t think it’s going to be as easy as that. I gave my contact my father’s name. They’re going to find out who I am. In fact, if they are who you say they are, they probably know who I am already.”

Chapter Twenty

Volker

I smoke three cigarettes in a row without saying anything. There’s an unfamiliar emotion knotting my gut.

Fear.

Somewhere along the way between wanting to possess her and just wanting her I forgot the risk that comes from too strong an attachment to another person. That they might one day be ripped from you and you’ll be left bleeding. That she might be left bleeding. I can’t even tell myself that she knew the risks when she returned my kisses and shared my bed. I chose this life for her. It’s my duty to see that she comes to no harm.

It’s not myself I fear for. It’s Evony.

People like Heydrich are dangerous, more dangerous than they first seem. He’s not as clever as I am. He’s not nearly as patient. Patience and cunning make a Stasi officer. But he is ambitious, and covetous of my position. And he hates me. I remember the anger burning in his eyes as I told him he’d never advance in the Stasi and I made him salute me. Maybe if I hadn’t taken such delight in humiliating him after the bakery raid none of this would have happened. But I never feared retribution. I know how to look after myself, and I didn’t know then how much this young woman sitting quietly before me would come to mean to me, and how the old fear would stir again. That I could lose her. That I might be unable to save her.

My one thought now is to keep her safe and remove Heydrich as a threat. How much does Heydrich know? How much does he suspect? The fear rises afresh in my chest as I look at Evony’s tense, lovely face. It’s not her that Heydrich wants, ultimately. It’s me. But he will tear her apart on his way to me and once he realizes how much this will devastate me he’ll make me watch as he grinds her into the dirt. The perfect revenge.

If he knows. I think through the possibilities, and it’s bad, but it’s perhaps not yet dire. “It may be all right. Your contact may know who you are, but they don’t know that I know that they know who you are. They don’t know that I know about any of this.”

Evony presses the heels of her hands into her eyes, as if she’s unable to bear this convoluted train of thought. “I can’t do this tonight. If you’re not going to throw me into prison then I’m going to bed.”

As she moves past me I catch her around the waist and she looks up into my narrow, heated gaze. “You are the most confounding, devious young woman I’ve ever met and I assure you in my line of work I’ve met a great many.”

Her eyes go wide, and then understanding dawns on her face. “You’re proud of me.”

I laugh softly. “Yes, my clever girl. All that you did, right under my nose, for weeks? And do you know why I’m not angry?” I press my lips against her ear and whisper, “Because with all the evidence you had against me you never betrayed me.”

She softens in my arms and a shiver goes through her. “But I’ve been working with your enemies.”

“And yet you never told them a thing.” I kiss her hungrily. I know I’m right. She had everything she thought she needed to get away from me and yet she couldn’t do it.

“It wasn’t for you,” she says desperately, pulling away. “I was waiting until I heard something about my father.”

I run my thumb over her swollen lower lip. “Sweet girl, you mustn’t tell me lies, and you must forget about your father. I’m sorry, but he’s gone. He’s fled, or he died that night. I searched the prison records and I didn’t find him.”

“You looked for him? You never told me that.”