Up In Honey's Room Part 14

Jurgen said, "Who's John Wilkes Booth?"

"And will be remembered longer," Walter said, "than the name of the man who murdered ten million. I say this not in a boastful way." Walter paused and said, "What was his name again?" Walter smiled and turned it off.

"Who was the one he'll be as well known as?"

"Booth," Vera said. "He shot Abraham Lincoln. Ask Walter how he's going to do it."

Joe Aubrey was already saying to Walter, "How you gonna get near him with Secret Service and marines all over the place? You know Rosenfeld's been going there for twenty years? See if that warm mineral water-why they call it Warm Springs-always eighty-eight degrees Fahrenheit day or night. See if it'll help his polio-my'litis ease up. You know he wears steel braces on his legs, has 'em painted black, or he wouldn't be able to stand up, like he does from the a.s.s end of a train, the observation car. There's a lot of people go down there for the water. I been to the springs, it isn't fifty miles from Griffin, up on Pine Mountain."

He said to Walter, "Even before you told me, I had an idea you were after Rosenfeld. You come visit and get me to fly down there. All this time you're scouting the area."

He said to the others, "You can get in trouble you fly over the Little White House. They warn you, get out of here. You don't leave fast I'm told they shoot you down."

Joe Aubrey turned to Walter again. "How you gonna do it, buddy, show up in an iron lung? You don't halt when they tell you, you'll hear machine-gun rounds dingin' off your breather. Walter, tell us how you plan to a.s.sa.s.sinate the man."

"I'm going to rent a small plane," Walter said, "fill it with dynamite, light the fuse, dive straight down like a Stuka into the Little White House and blow it up."

No one in the room spoke.

Jurgen and Vera were sitting up now. Jurgen said to her, "He's going to kill himself."

Vera raised her voice. "Walter, why do you wish to end your life?"

"It's my gift to the Fuhrer."

"Please, what has the Fuhrer done for you?"

Joe Aubrey said, "I taught Walter to fly in my Cessna after he pestered me to death. Now he tells us he wants to be the only Ger-man-American kamikaze pilot in World War Two, so people will remember him, Walter the a.s.sa.s.sin. Walter, you ever hear about the j.a.p kamikaze pilot that survived? Chicken Nakamura?"

Vera said to Jurgen, "What's today, the eleventh," and to Walter, "When are you leaving?"

"Tomorrow. I'll fly down with Joe. I'm counting on my friend to get me the dynamite and rent a plane, since I don't have a license."

Vera got up from the sofa and went to Walter, wanting to touch him. She put her hand on his shoulder. Walter staring at her through his pince-nez , submissive, sad? Perhaps confused. She said, Walter, if you could fly your plane to Moscow and use it to kill the Evil Dwarf, ahhhh, it would be a gift for humanity. The world would rejoice, even the Bolsheviks. Trust me, Walter, it's true. But to kill the president of the United States, now, the war in its final, what, weeks? What would be the good of it?"

"I told you," Walter said, "it's my gift to the Fuhrer."

"You want him to show his appreciation?"

"It isn't necessary."

"Give you the Knight's Cross posthumously. Or to a member of your family, your sister who never speaks?"

"Knowing I've served the Fuhrer will be enough," Walter said.

"But will Adolf appreciate your gift, the Red Army about to descend on him? What happens to your meat business, your slaughterhouse?"

Bohdan said, "Vera?"

She looked at him sitting with Dr. Taylor.

"What Walter might consider," Bo said, "develop an act where he does Himmler monologues in an SS uniform, the hat, the one with the skull and crossbones on it."

Vera gave him her cold stare.

"I'm serious," Bo said. "The material's way overdone, and with funny punch lines where you least expect. Walter does it without cracking a smile."

Vera said, "Yes . . . ?" Thinking about it now. "Walter does it for American audiences?"

"Who else? After they win the war. You could represent Walter, act as his agent."

"He's serious," Vera said to Walter, Walter frowning at her. She gave his cheek a pat and turned to Jurgen on the sofa, Jurgen with raised eyebrows showing her an open mind. Vera moved to him with a faint smile thinking, Thank G.o.d for Jurgen.

The front doorbell rang with a ding-dong ding-dong chime. chime.

Then again.

It stopped Vera at the sofa. She looked at Bo. Bo looked back at her but didn't move from Dr. Taylor's side. Vera gestured toward the door. She watched Bo give the doctor's hand a pat as he got up from his chair.

"Vera, are we expecting anyone?"

Now Joe Aubrey was on his feet.

"Lemme handle it. n.o.body comes in this house without a warrant signed by a federal judge."

Vera was thinking if it was the police, the FBI, all right, it was over, out of her hands. She watched Aubrey go to the front entrance, release the double lock and open the door.

Walter said, "My G.o.d, Honig?"

Joe Aubrey turned to Vera, not sure what to do.

Honey walked past him into the foyer.

She had a nice smile ready for the faces staring at her, picking out Vera Mezwa, the head German spy Kevin had told her about, and the young guy in the sport coat-not the one wearing a skirt- who must be Jurgen, the German POW watching her with a pleasant expression; he seemed calm for a guy on the run. Joe Aubrey looked familiar, from the Bund rally in New York years ago. The other two must be Dr. Taylor and the houseman, the one Carl had called Bohunk, but the guy didn't look bad in the gray sweater and skirt. Weird but kind of attractive. They didn't look to Honey like a ring of German spies having a meeting, but that's what they were.

She stuck out her right arm in the n.a.z.i salute to show she'd come in peace, with no intention of causing trouble, and said, "Sieg Heil , y'all. I'm Honey Deal." y'all. I'm Honey Deal."

Nineteen.

[image]have no reason to deceive you," Honey said. "A federal marshal dropped me on your doorstep and left, not wanting to disturb you or with authority to do anything else. But I risked being denied entrance knowing that Walter Schoen, my former husband, was here and I'm anxious for Walter to hear what I have to say. Seeing him again the other evening, after so many lost years, I remembered how thoughtful he was during the year we were married." She turned her gaze on Walter saying, "What I've come to do, Walter, is tell you I'm sorry, deeply sorry for the rude, unforgivable way I walked out of your life."

She waited. No one said a word.

Do it, Honey thought and crossed the room to Walter, arms at her sides in the trench coat, saucy beret snug on her blond hair, Honey suppliant, going to Walter for his forgiveness, Honey hoping she wasn't overdoing it. She reached out to him with both hands and he took them in his, his calloused, meat-cutter hands, his pince-nez catching flashes of light as he looked at his people and brought his gaze back to Honey. She would tell Carl sometime tomorrow, in a quiet tone, I saw the lost years welling in his eyes, I saw the lost years welling in his eyes, Honey leaving herself open for Carl to say . . . Honey leaving herself open for Carl to say . . .

Walter sniffled before bringing out his white handkerchief, sniffled again, took hold of his nose and blew it, wiped his nose and looked in the handkerchief. He hasn't changed, Honey thought and said to G.o.d, Please don't let him cut one, I don't play being shot anymore.

To Walter she said, "Would you like to introduce me to your friends?"

The one she was dying to meet was Jurgen from the Afrika Korps, but Vera got to Honey and took her by the arm to the kitchen, saying they needed to talk.

"We'll get you a drink since you sieg heil sieg heiled us. What would you say to a vodka martini?"

"You're too kind," Honey said.

"I could have used someone with your cheek," Vera said. "Tell me about the federal policeman who dropped you off. You want it dry?"

"Very. He's Carl Webster from Oklahoma. He fools you, you think he's a s.h.i.t-kicker till you look in his eyes. Carl's a keeper, but he's married."

"Yes? That makes a difference?"

"Not to me especially. I'm with him I act a little like I'm on the make, but I'm not after him to leave home. I thought we might have some fun, but he's the kind, he gives his word that's it, it's cut in stone."

"Perhaps you're trying too hard."

"I don't have a lot of time."

"Yes, but you have to be subtle."

"He comes to visit, don't open the door bare naked?" "You want him to think going to bed is his idea." "I haven't given up." Honey sipped the martini Vera gave her and said, "You know what you're doing, don't you?" "I hope so," Vera said. Bohdan stuck his head in the kitchen. He said to Vera, "Let's not forget Mr. Au-bur-ree," in kind of a singsong, and to Honey, "Love your beret, it's cla.s.sic," and was gone. Honey smiled. "He's cute." "Bo's my guardian angel," Vera said. "He was reminding me I have to talk to Joe Aubrey before he leaves. About going into a business." "How can you stand that guy?" Honey said. "He never shuts up." "He's Walter's friend," Vera said, "I see him only once in a while. But, my G.o.d, you were married to Walter an entire year? You must have come close to losing your mind. I tell him, 'Walter, you love the n.a.z.is so much, why don't you go back to Germany?' No, his destiny is here. Finally tonight we find out what it is. How he'll change from Walter, the dullest man G.o.d ever made, to Walter the a.s.sa.s.sin."

"He wants to shoot somebody?" "Crash a plane into the man's house." "And kill himself ?" "Yes, but for the Fuhrer. On his birthday or close to it." "Walter knows how to fly?" "He knows how to take off." "Crash a plane into someone's house for the Fuhrer," Honey said. "Joe Aubrey's plane, that Cessna? He can't be going far."

"I thought it might be Himmler," Vera said, "from the way Walter was talking about him. You know Walter believed all his life that in some mystical way he was Himmler's twin brother."

"The first time we met," Honey said, "standing in front of church, I had to guess who he looks like. This was back in '38, but I knew who it was. I told Walter he looked exactly like Himmler and Walter bowed his head and said thank you."

"Well, this evening," Vera said, "Walter denounced Himmler, called him Heini most of the time. Walter believes that in America his name will become as well known as John Wilkes Booth. You know who I mean?"

"The actor who shot Lincoln," Honey said. "You're saying Walter wants to a.s.sa.s.sinate President Roos Roosevelt?"

"I can't see him doing it," Vera said. "But listen, I have to speak to Joe Aubrey before he leaves. Tell me if you want to meet anyone besides Jurgen."

She expected Walter any second to walk into the kitchen and tell her how he's going to give his life for Hitler, hoping to do it on the Fuhrer's birthday. What would she say? You don't want to just send him a tie?

Without being a smart-a.s.s what would she say?

Well, if that's what you want to do, Walter. If you've made up your mind. Tell Walter it's the bravest thing she's ever heard of. Without overdoing it, stirring his emotions about lost years lost years . She told herself to think, will you, before you say anything? Keep it simple. Tell Walter he's your hero and tell Carl, tomorrow, what Walter plans to do. . She told herself to think, will you, before you say anything? Keep it simple. Tell Walter he's your hero and tell Carl, tomorrow, what Walter plans to do.

She'd have to get Walter to drive her home.

And thought, Oh s.h.i.t, he'll want to stop and talk, hold my hand. It was embarra.s.sing watching a n.a.z.i-lover trying to be lovey.

And thought, No, he won't stop because Joe Aubrey will be in the car. Walter must've brought him, he always did. She'd let Joe sit in front, listen to him rant about the Klan for fifteen minutes and she'd be home. Only once, back in the Bund days, Joe Aubrey ever made a real move on her. Came up behind her and slipped his hands around her body to cup her b.r.e.a.s.t.s, alone in the kitchen, the house on Kenilworth near the market, grabbed her b.r.e.a.s.t.s and whispered in her ear, "You can do better'n Walter. You know it?"

She said, " 'Course I know it."

He said, "You ever thought of movin' to Georgia? You could work at Rich's in Atlanta, the best department store in town, and I'd fly up and see you."

She said, "Joe, I've given up my cute southern ways, acting ditsy in front of boys? I've learned I'm way smarter than most of them."

He was caressing her b.r.e.a.s.t.s now saying in her ear, "I know how to please a woman, get her moanin'."

Honey said, "You don't stop, I'm gonna grab your weenie and yank it so hard Walter'll hear you scream and come running out here to kill you."

What did that do? Got him excited. It was one of so many times she spoke before she thought it out. Still, it never got her in trouble, did it?

Jurgen came in the kitchen with his empty gla.s.s, smiling, showing his nice white teeth, telling Honey, "Since you came in this house I've been thinking of ways to get you alone and Vera offers you to me."

"Like she knows you're the reason I crashed the party," Honey said. "Do you know what I mean?"

"I think so, yes."

"I have to talk to you about what's gonna happen next."

Jurgen hesitated. "You mean when the war ends?"

"I mean now, tonight. I want to know what you're gonna do," Honey said. "If you've made up your mind to leave here tonight, slip off in the dark or what?"

"Let me think about this," Jurgen said. "You told Vera that Carl Webster dropped you off here. This policeman who wants to put me in the hoosgow."

"He can't," Honey said.

"You know the word hoosgow hoosgow ?" ?"

"It's the jail in a Gene Autry movie."

"Yes, what cowboys call it, from the Spanish word juzgado, juzgado, meaning a court of law. You know meaning a court of law. You know hoosgow, hoosgow, uh?" uh?"

"Listen to me," Honey said. "You're right, Carl would love to grab you and take you back to Oklahoma, but he can't. The Federal Bureau of Investigation's ordered him to stand back, leave you alone. They think you're helping out the spy ring and want to see their investigation play out. Carl told me he's cut corners in his time but has never, never, when a higher-up gives him an order. Has never disobeyed it, he said, and never will." when a higher-up gives him an order. Has never disobeyed it, he said, and never will."

She didn't think it sounded much like Carl, but part of it was true. She wasn't sure he'd never disobeyed an order. If he did, she imagined that by the time he explained why, he'd tell a great story that ends with gunfire.

Jurgen said, "This is Carl's idea? To ask me what I'm going to do?"

"It's mine," Honey said. "Carl dropped me off but hasn't any idea what I'm doing. Actually what I thought of when I walked in and saw you. Carl would love to sit down and talk to you, and if you want, you can do it. I swear he's been told to leave you alone. You can walk up and give him a shove, he might growl but he won't handcuff you. He's been ordered not to"-she was starting to overdo it-"and I know he would love to see you again. How's that sound? Sit down with Carl and have a drink."

He seemed to like the idea, but was still suspicious, being on the run, a fugitive.

Honey said, "I imagine Vera would just as soon you weren't here. But don't leave unless you know where you're going. I mean to a friend who'll hide you, not to some hotel. If you don't have a friend, Jesus, outside of Walter, you must've been a loner when you lived here that time, more interested in what was going on than having buddies." She paused for a moment and said, "Do you trust me?"

"I don't know you."