Rising Sun, Falling Shadow Part 20

As Sunny finished her tea and Ernst smoked, their conversation turned back to the logistics of relocating Charlie and Simon. "So Charlie and Jia-Li will live together?"

"Yes. If we can get him out of the ghetto and to Jia-Li's."

Ernst chuckled. "Can you imagine it, Sunny? It will take a hatchet to cut through the romantic tension in that apartment. I have no idea who either of them thinks they are fooling. It's like watching two teenagers-"

A rap at the door cut Ernst off. Sunny hopped to her feet, spilling the last of her tea. "Are you expecting someone?" she whispered.

Ernst shook his head. He pointed to the corridor and mouthed the word "bedroom."

Sunny took a shaky step forward as she saw the doork.n.o.b turn and the door fly open.

Baron von Puttkamer marched into the room as though he owned it, followed by his Korean bodyguard, who a.s.sumed a post by the door. "Ah, so you are home after all, Gustav," the tall European bellowed.

"Of course, I . . ." Ernst sputtered.

The baron a.s.sessed the cramped quarters with a sweep of his eyes. "I thought your art was selling better than these accommodations would suggest."

"I am as frugal as your average Jew," Ernst quipped.

Smiling, von Puttkamer turned his attention to Sunny. She feared that he would remember her from the spring day when they had met on the streets of the ghetto, but his eyes didn't register a flicker of recognition. He bowed his head and held out his hand. "A pleasure, Fraulein."

Ernst inclined his head in Sunny's direction without meeting her gaze. "A new friend, Baron. She is posing for a painting I have in mind." He cleared his throat, feigning embarra.s.sment, as though the baron had caught them in flagrante delicto. "She will be leaving shortly."

"That's hardly necessary, Gustav." Von Puttkamer waved his hand. "The lady doesn't speak German, does she?"

Ernst shook his head. "She barely understands English. Our communication is more . . . physical in nature."

Still smirking, von Puttkamer said, "Really, Gustav? You and that miserable half-breed? You're an eligible artist. Surely you could do better." He shook his head. "These mixed bloods are the kind of perversity we are striving to wipe off the map."

Sunny's skin crawled, but she pretended not to follow a word of his German. Instead, mustering a bored expression, she collected the dishes from the table and carried them over to the countertop in the galley kitchen.

Von Puttkamer moved across the room to study a painting that rested against the wall. "Do you like it, Baron?" Ernst asked over his shoulder.

Von Puttkamer shrugged. "The craftsmanship is fine."

"Praise does not come much fainter than that."

"It is hardly original, Gustav. Walk the art district of Cologne and you will find a hundred like it."

"Fortunately for me, Cologne is a good long walk from Shanghai."

"You are touchy, Klimper. So like an artist." Von Puttkamer laughed. "I'm not questioning your talent. After all, two of your paintings hang in my home. I merely wonder whether you are truly inspired by the theme. I sense you can do much more with your gift than this."

"You give me more credit than I am due, Baron."

Von Puttkamer turned his attention away from the canvas. "I did not come to here to discuss art. Or even your penchant for sullied races."

"So why have you come?"

"To invite you to dinner, my dear Gustav. This Friday."

"Oh, thank you," Ernst said. "Is there a special occasion?"

"I would like you to meet my wife. She's somewhat of an art connoisseur. She very much enjoys your work."

"Lovely. I would be delighted. No doubt your wife is an enchanting woman."

"At times," von Puttkamer said. "Of course, there will be a few Party members in attendance as well." His eyelids creased. "We have more to discuss on the Jewish question."

Sunny stiffened, but she held her head still while continuing to stare out the window.

Von Puttkamer scoffed in disgust. "It astounds me how freely-how easily-the refugees live here in Shanghai. With their schools, temples and hospitals. Better than many of the good Germans back at home who have to cope with the hardships of war. The j.a.panese are supposed to be our allies. Yet they allow the Jews to thumb their noses at us all."

Ernst hesitated before speaking. "I wish there were more that could be done."

Sunny glanced over her shoulder and saw that von Puttkamer was smiling. "Ah, but there is more, my friend. So much more."

"Really, Baron?" Ernst said with a calmness Sunny could tell was feigned. "Didn't you tell me that last year, when those SS officers came from Tokyo, they were unable to persuade the j.a.panese to act?"

"Ah, but that was last year," von Puttkamer snorted. "This time will be different."

"How so, Baron?"

"This time we will not ask the j.a.panese for permission."

CHAPTER 29.

Franz took another sip of his coffee, but he had been nursing the cup for half an hour and it had gone cold and tasteless. The cafe's proprietor, Herr Steinmann, shot him another impatient look. The restaurant wasn't crowded, but Franz had been tying up the most desirable table, in the corner by the window, for too long.

Franz far preferred the richer and more bitter coffee that Frau Schilling brewed at her bakery two blocks over. Besides, he couldn't really afford the beverage, in spite of a.s.sistance from Jia-Li and Ernst. It sickened Franz to have to depend on the charity of friends. And even with their help, the Adlers might have gone hungry the week before had Esther not sold the last of her mother's brooches.

Franz glanced over at the table beside his, where a couple sat with three young boys, who appeared to range from about four to eight years old. The father was using an old army knife to cut a piece of apple strudel into slices, while the boys watched him, practically vibrating with antic.i.p.ation. As soon as the delicate operation was complete, the children s.n.a.t.c.hed their slivers in delight. Franz noticed that neither parent reached for the pastry.

Franz heard the cafe door open and looked over to see Sunny step inside. Their eyes locked across the room. Heartsick, he thought again of what Liese had told him about seeing Sunny with Wen-Cheng. Hard as he tried, he could not shake the mental image of them lying naked together in a rundown rooming house near the Old City.

Franz had yet to find the right moment to confront Sunny with what Liese had told him. Even if he could have put aside the current crises with Charlie, Simon and Yang, he still wasn't convinced that he wanted to discuss it. Where could he possibly begin? As Sunny hurried over to him, her hips swinging ever so slightly with each step, his pulse quickened. He could not imagine losing her.

Sunny had barely settled into the seat across from him when Herr Steinmann appeared at the table, hands on his waist. "Perhaps the lady would like something to eat or drink?" he asked pointedly.

"A cup of tea," Franz answered for her. "And I will have another coffee."

Steinmann shook his head. "And what food might I interest you in?"

Sunny gave him her most disarming smile. "Only the drinks, thank you."

Steinmann s.n.a.t.c.hed up Franz's cup and saucer and marched off. As soon as he was gone, Sunny leaned over the table until her and Franz's lips almost touched. "Everyone is ready," she whispered.

"The soldiers are still outside?" he asked in a tone as low as hers.

She nodded toward the window. "Everywhere."

"Scheisse," he muttered as he saw a pair of infantrymen troop past the window with rifles slung over their shoulders.

"It can't be helped, Franz." Sunny motioned discreetly out the window to the intersection, where Joey, barely recognizable in the rags of a coolie, stood holding up a rickshaw. "When Jia-Li comes to the doorway, I will check the street and signal when it is clear. Then she will hail Joey."

"Anyone might stop them along the way. If one of the soldiers were to recognize Charlie . . ."

"Why would they stop them? They will be just another Chinese couple riding in a rickshaw."

"Who can afford a rickshaw ride these days?"

Sunny squeezed the back of his hand. "There are still people in Shanghai with means."

Franz's chest ached at her touch, but he didn't withdraw his hand. "Not in the ghetto," he said.

"Charlie and Jia-Li won't be in the ghetto for long."

Herr Steinmann came back and lowered a cup in front of each of them with exaggerated care. Franz didn't touch his coffee, but he found the aroma soothing. At an unaccustomed loss for words with Sunny, he stared out the window at the doorway of the building where Charlie and Simon had apparently spent the night hiding in another refugee family's flat.

Sunny sipped her tea. "Franz, what do you think von Puttkamer is planning?"

Franz shook his head. "What are n.a.z.is always up to? Something terrible for us."

"Do you really believe they would attack the ghetto?"

"Without question."

"Right under the nose of the j.a.panese?"

"I doubt anything would deter them. Their hatred is not rational. It knows no bounds."

"Yes, but how can they just invade the ghetto when their own allies have already claimed it?"

"Perhaps they will raid after dark?" He lifted his cup and whispered into it. "Or maybe they intend to plant b.o.o.by traps?"

"If Ernst can find out the details, then surely we will be able to stop them."

"Can anyone stop them?" Weariness descended over Franz, exhaustion as intense as any he had ever known. The continual threats to his community's existence seemed to coalesce into one giant storm cloud. "How long can one continue to bail water from a ship that is already submerged?"

"For as long as it takes, Franz. You are-" She suddenly turned to the window.

Franz followed her gaze to the building's entryway, where Jia-Li stood calmly in a black cheongsam, which was uncharacteristically conservative for her with its low hem and high collar. Sunny rose and slipped over to the door of the cafe. Moments later, Franz saw her rush past the window. Craning his neck to take in as much of the street as he could, he spotted a pair of soldiers-not the ones who had pa.s.sed earlier-patrolling the intersection at the far end of the street. Sunny must have given Jia-Li the all-clear signal because she waved her arm to hail the rickshaw.

As planned, Joey trotted up to the door. Moments later, Charlie appeared at the entrance, propped up on his crutches, wearing a suit and fedora.

As Charlie and Jia-Li were climbing into the carriage of the rickshaw, Sunny re-entered the cafe and slid back into her seat.

Franz studied the soldiers at the far end of the block, but they seemed to take no notice of the departing rickshaw. He held his breath as Joey jogged by the cafe, pulling Jia-Li and Charlie behind him. All three were staring dead ahead.

Sunny reached for Franz's hand again. "As long as no one stops them at the checkpoint."

"Even if they get so lucky, what about Simon?" he asked. "How will we get him out past the checkpoint? The soldiers will a.s.sume he is a refugee. They would definitely stop him."

"Not if he's inside a night soil man's barrel."

His stomach turned, but they had yet to come up with a better plan for getting Simon past the guards. As they finished their drinks, Sunny gently caressed Franz's knuckles. He stared down at the table and kept his hand still.

"Franz?" Her voice cracked.

He looked up to see that her eyes had misted over. "Yes?"

Her hand froze on his. "I have something to tell you."

Franz tensed, bracing himself.

"Not here," she said. "Let's walk."

With the dread of a man on his way to the gallows, Franz rose to his feet. He dropped a few coins on the table and followed Sunny to the door.

They walked two blocks in silence before Sunny stopped on the sidewalk and turned to face him. She glanced in either direction and then lowered her voice to a whisper. "Last spring, I . . . I contacted the Underground."

The street swam around Franz. "The Underground? What are you talking about, Sunny?"

"I approached Wen-Cheng. I knew he was working with the Resistance." She swallowed hard but maintained her husband's gaze. "He didn't want to involve me, but I insisted."

Franz was speechless. Suddenly everything made sense.

Her face trembled. "The worst part has been hiding it from you all these months. All the secrecy. I am so sorry, Franz."

"So that was why you were in the Old City with Wen-Cheng?"

Her head jerked up in surprise. "How did you know about that?"

"Liese saw you."

"And you didn't say anything?" she asked incredulously. "Why not, for G.o.d's sake?"

Franz only stared back at her.

Her mouth fell open. "Oh, Franz, no! I would never . . ."

"I didn't know what to think."