Page 21 of A Song in the Dark

Another clearing of the throat. She imagined his face turning red, lips tightening.

Most conductors didn’t like to hear that their nine-foot concert grand wasn’t in the best of condition when it had probably been tuned that very afternoon.

“We are honored to have you here, Fr?ulein. The Führer asked for everything to be the very best for you, so I will call the tuner back immediately.” Feet shuffled away toward stage front.

His voice was stronger now but held an edge.

“We are overjoyed to have such honored guests with us this evening. We’ve never had the world’s best pianist and the world leader of our day. ”

He sounded so smug. Well, two could play at that. “It should be quite an evening.”

“I must say, Fr?ulein, I’ve never heard a woman play with your skill and ... um...”

“Lack of sight?” When the man had called months ago to schedule this date on the tour, he’d practically begged her to come.

Now? His tone of condescension stiffened her spine.

She would not give him the upper hand. Difficult enough for the great conductors of the world to accept her gender and superior skills.

Now that they knew about her blindness, they would be all-too-inclined to dismiss her.

The quick footsteps approaching from the left were definitely Melanie.

And by her stride, she wasn’t happy. “Guten abend.” Her tone held a chill.

“I must insist that we allow Fr?ulein Frappier to finish her preparations for this evening’s concert.

The world’s best pianist shouldn’t have to accept interruption from a common conductor. ”

The haughty words grated over Chaisley. Whatever was her friend up to?

Fingers snapped. “Friederich!”

The next set of footsteps was heavier. Purposeful. Rick. “Yes, miss?”

A tug at her elbow pulled Chaisley to stand and then into motion.

“That will be all.” Melanie’s dismissive command followed them offstage.

Once they were safely inside the vehicle once again, Rick spoke from the front of the car. “Well done, Miss Brigman.”

“I couldn’t have done it without you, Mr. Zimmerman. I couldn’t believe the gall of that man. Some of these Germans are downright insulting.”

Chaisley agreed. The conversations she’d overheard since the newspaper came out were like little knives stabbing at her heart. As if she were suddenly less of a person.

But word had also reached her that newspapers around the world had reported that there was no match to her talent. Even more so now that they knew she was blind.

Melanie and Rick were still chatting about what they’d overheard. Mel was riled up. “That sniveling little conductor can just pack up his Nazi views and try them on someone else. Don’t let it get to you, Chais.” Her friend squeezed her arm tight.

“I know.”

“You handled yourself very well, I might add.” Mel still sounded like she was about to punch someone.

For any of this to work, Chaisley had to keep her wits about her.

And even though parts of the newspaper article weren’t what she would have written herself, she could use it to her advantage.

Her great-grandparents were the purest of Germans—almost royalty to Hitler’s Pan-Germanist Nazis.

She could show the same air of confidence and condescension that Hitler portrayed and expected from his master race.

Since he was coming to the concert—and by now he surely knew the truth about her—what did that mean?

He wouldn’t harm her, would he? No. She’d gained even more acclaim overnight when everyone found out she was blind.

To be honest, Hitler was probably coming because he always wanted the best of everything, and she had been touted as the best. It didn’t hurt that she was of German descent.

But now that the article was out, his presence tonight could mean any number of things.

Would he come after her? Melanie and Rick?

Her stomach plummeted. Every shred of confidence from earlier evaporated.

Had she signed her own death warrant by sharing with the world that she could no longer see?

Thunderous applause resonated throughout the large concert hall.

Chaisley stood, gripped the edge of the Steinway with her left hand, and bowed deep at the waist. She imagined the gold statues Melanie had described, which acted as pillars to hold up the slim balconies surrounding the hall.

The stage was relatively small, with no curtains, simply doors leading off the stage and to the back under the pipes of the massive organ.

She bowed again, taking her time. The margin for error was zero. A bead of sweat slipped down her neck and onto the collar of her evening gown. When was the last time she had been this nervous?

Not in years.

Stop it. Thinking about being nervous would reflect in her playing. And she couldn’t afford that.

Now was the time to play her trump card.

She nodded in the direction she knew Hitler sat, took her seat on the padded bench, and started into Liszt’s piano transposition of Wagner’s Song of the Evening Star .

Wagner was a favorite of the Führer. So much depended on her impressing him...

Chaisley allowed the music to take over, pouring everything she had into the piece. She didn’t need to see the faces of her audience to know that she had them enraptured. The great hall was devoid of sound other than what emanated from the piano.

Thank You, Lord, for this gift. Please guide me .

Even though her face portrayed the confident, accomplished musician, she feared the fierce pounding of her heart might give her away. Or the slight tremor in her legs. The plan had to work. But if it did, it meant a more difficult path lay ahead. Was she capable of seeing this through?

She must. Just like Esther.

Lives were at stake.

Two minutes before she was to be onstage, one of the Führer’s men came to tell her that the nobility—almost royalty—of her German lineage, accompanied by her recognition as a great pianist, had caught the attention of the leader of Deutschland.

He also made sure to mention that since her blindness had been caused by an accident, it hadn’t “marred” her in any other way.

Hadn’t marred her.

Insufferable man!

“But it makes you impossible for Hitler to resist.” Rick’s words after the little meeting echoed in her brain.

No pressure.

Well, whatever they had intended by insisting to speak with her right before the concert was for naught. She’d prayed the whole walk onto the stage and as she took her seat.

Now as the last notes resounded from the heart of the great instrument, Chaisley slowly lifted her hands and rose again to the crowd’s resounding appreciation. Keeping her head lowered, she bowed and placed her hand over her heart, acknowledging her gratitude.

Hurried footsteps ascended the steps to her right, and she breathed deep as they marched toward center stage.

Rick’s steps from behind brought him closer.

Guarding her. Giving her strength. When she’d been introduced at the beginning of the evening, she’d almost turned around.

Run away. Hid. The enormity of her revelation to that newspaper felt like a boulder crushing her into the ground.

But she’d stood firm. Barely.

Now was the moment she’d dreaded.

The Führer was onstage. She heard him speak briefly to the crowd, and the very sound of his voice, so full of self-righteous passion, sent a shiver racing up Chaisley’s spine.

She hated his voice but had studied it for hours in preparation for tonight.

With all her senses heightened, she could recognize his voice with just one syllable.

More applause and shouts of adoration forced her smile.

Then steady steps approached her.

Chaisley kept her head bowed and waited for the steps to stop. Then she lifted her chin, every inch the famous pianist. She was the best. Adolf Hitler always wanted the best.

The reminders kept resonating in her brain.

Rumbles of applause still echoed across the room, and the steps halted to her left with a click—his heels snapping together?

“Fr?ulein.”

She bowed again. “Führer Hitler.”

“Your mastery was brilliant. Thank you for coming to Austria, the land of my birth, and blessing us with your talent.”

“Thank you.” She raised her chin and nodded. Tried to portray the proud artist he wished to see. “It has been my pleasure.”

“I greatly appreciate your chosen piece for the finale in acknowledgment of me.”

“You are most welcome.” It was impossible to breathe with him so close.

He cleared his throat and sniffed. “We want to show the world the superior quality we aim for here in Deutschland. I want the finest, Fr?ulein. And you are that. How grateful you must be for your German blood.”

Dipping her head once, Chaisley gritted her teeth. Would he keep her here on display all night? When she was playing, the thought of thousands of eyes on her didn’t matter. But without the security of her instrument, Chaisley felt exposed. The urge to shrink back was overwhelming.

Give me strength, Jesus. I need Your courage. Straightening her shoulders, she offered a smile and lifted her chin. “I thank you for the honor of your compliment.” The words tasted like chalk on her tongue.

Another haughty sniff preceded his words. “I hope you will play for me again.”

Chaisley could imagine the man before her from the descriptions Melanie had given. But she replaced it with the picture she’d created in her mind to help her be confident in his presence.

A short, middle-aged man sprouted in her imagination. He was slightly balding, with thick jowls and a paunch belly. The urge to laugh was inappropriate. The situation was dangerous. He was dangerous. But she would not fear him. “Perhaps that could be arranged.”

“You have spirit.” It sounded like his lips were in a smile, but his tone had changed. “I have many visitors coming here as well who will appreciate a fine concert.”

“My schedule is quite full, but I’m sure we can discuss the details at a later date.”

“Indeed.”

She lowered her chin again and dropped into a slight curtsy. His commanding footsteps sounded close to her and then moved away, back toward the stairs.

“Deutschland’s own virtuoso. The finest in the world!” The Führer’s voice shouted to the crowd.

Thunderous applause sounded, and Chaisley bowed again, letting her smile brighten.

Adolf Hitler had just played into her hand.

“What did you just do?” Rick’s whispered words behind her sounded as though he spoke through clenched teeth.

Melanie gave her a tap on the elbow on her right side. “I was wondering the same thing.”

Chaisley bowed once more as the crowd continued to clap and cheer. She kept a smile pasted on her face as she turned around and walked with her two companions offstage. “I’ve left a door open in case we might need it.”

“I wish you would have discussed that with me first.” Was that hurt in Mel’s voice?

“What is it you two aren’t telling me?” Rick pulled on her left arm.

“Not here.” Chaisley kept her hand on Melanie. “Let’s discuss it in the car.”

Melanie led her to the dressing room, and she sat, taking in the quiet. Chaisley nodded toward her friend. “Thank you. I wasn’t sure I would make it.” Her hands shook almost as much as her voice.

“This is only the beginning, but I’ll be here every step of the way.”

More tremors coursed through Chaisley’s body. Dear Lord, help me .

The Führer’s manipulative words made her stomach roil. And it wasn’t just his putrid breath.

She was a trophy to him. For now. Which meant it was time.

Let the finest concerto of her life begin...