Page 50 of A Song in the Dark

chapter Nineteen

Smack !

His hand stung from the slap. But these stupid people couldn’t figure out the code. Every one of them deserved the firing squad.

How hard could it be to decipher a blind woman’s message?

He should have followed Melanie after the concert and just grabbed her. If anyone understood what that pianist was up to, it was his long-lost sister who had been by the woman’s side for years.

The traitor. She’d left with their mother all those years ago by choice.

Her sugary letter had played right into his plan. Of course, he’d responded, telling her everything she wanted to hear. All he had to do was get her back on German soil, and he would pounce.

Whatever information she had would be his.

And once the pianist’s treachery was revealed, the Führer would want to promote him again.

Tempted to allow a grin to grow on his face, he swiped a hand over his mouth instead.

Right now, though, he needed to know what that pianist was up to.

Why on earth had she been carrying all her music in braille when she memorized everything?

They’d searched her bag. The officer said he had sensed they were hiding something. But what?

He spun on his heel and headed to the door. He needed fresh air to think. He’d disposed of too many of these worthless blind people who couldn’t decipher the code the past few weeks.

There had to be another way to catch the traitor.

Once the Führer knew about Miss Frappier’s defiance of the Nazis, he would want to take matter into his own hands.

He was already upset that she didn’t show for the demanded performance on November fifteenth.

Now that the world was watching with bated breath for Germany’s Supreme Commander-in-Chief to make his next move, he could make an example out of her.

Walking out of his office to his car, he lit a cigarette and scanned the trees.

Wait a minute.

He squinted his eyes.

There—in the park. That man. Where had he seen him?

He snapped his fingers. The man had spoken with Melanie weeks ago. Was it after one of the concerts? He did his best to picture the exact location.

At the moment, the man was surrounded by children. He sat in the snow in his black suit while the children laughed.

Of course! He might not have to use his pathetic little sister after all.

He strode through the snow, staying out of sight as long as possible.

Ten feet away from his target, the man snapped his gaze up.

Gotcha.

On a back road in Germany—Tuesday, December 13, 1938

Thank you, Lord, for a cloudy night.

Melanie’s hands gripped the steering wheel. Having driven the route from Berlin to Amsterdam several times in the last month since Kristallnacht, each time the clouds covered the heavens she breathed a grateful prayer. It made it harder to see, but it also gave them more cover.

There were only three vehicles their little team could use, and she filled in as a driver whenever one of the others couldn’t.

The job helped her to feel useful even though it caused her great stress every time. Not that she would tell any of the others that. But at the moment, the pounding of her heart was so loud in her ears that it drowned out any other sound.

Breathe deep, Mel . Even as she was thinking that, it was her mother’s voice she heard.

She took several long, deep breaths and the pounding in her ears quieted. Her heart still raced, but that wouldn’t stop. At least not until her cargo was delivered and safe.

Three young children huddled together in the back seat, a thick blanket draped over them. One—only ten years of age and yet the oldest by several years—suffered from epilepsy. One was born with a cleft palate, and the last child only had two fingers on her right hand.

It had been more than an hour since any of them had made a sound.

Perhaps they’d fallen asleep. The rest would be good for them, the poor dears.

They were so malnourished, worse than any she’d seen so far.

Which made her concerned that things were only going to get worse.

Sad, how that thought echoed every time. And every time it was worse.

The little ones devoured the sandwiches and water she’d brought so fast, Melanie hoped they didn’t get sick.

But the food stayed down, and the children settled in for their long drive.

Melanie suppressed a yawn. With only a few hours’ sleep the last few days, her exhaustion and the warmth of the car made an unsafe combination. She knew this route, the curves and slopes. The soothing sway of the car was enough to put anyone to sleep.

She smacked her cheek. None of that! Stay alert!

Only thirty-five kilometers stood between them and freedom now.

She cracked the window, the bitterly cold air whipping along the side of her head. Hopefully the kids wouldn’t wake up, but she needed the stinging in her face to keep her awake. It wouldn’t do to crash on her last mission.

Her last mission.

The thought was bittersweet. The horrors in Germany reached a horrific peak much quicker than anyone anticipated.

Arrests grew in number every day as people were sent to work camps.

She’d done her best to keep her chin up.

Keep a positive attitude and take one step at a time.

But she had to excuse herself often, find a quiet place, and cry.

The tiny little network started by Celestia and Dr. Grafton had been able to rescue hundreds more children since Kristallnacht, but now it was going dark, fleeing underground as Hitler’s influence spread across Eastern Europe like a spider web.

She was proud of her work. She’d written her brother another letter, but with no response, her heart had changed. Especially during the planning of this last rescue. Each day, the urging she’d felt so strongly to see her brother waned like a candle about to sputter out the last of its light.

If her brother was in Hitler’s inner circle, his heart had to be full of hate. How else could he be a part of the atrocities happening?

She had to let him go. Seeing him was too dangerous, and she couldn’t risk putting anyone else in peril.

Her brother had chosen his path.

And she chose hers.

She lifted her chin. She would do whatever she could to save as many as she could. Just like Chaisley. Rick. Celestia and Dr. G.

She left the road for the hidden path which barely fit an automobile, maneuvering the car up a steep hill, then slowing to a stop for a moment.

Below her the lights of small towns blinked and winked.

Just half a kilometer before her was one of the last hidden areas where people could pass in and out of Germany without a checkpoint.

She glanced at her wristwatch, squinting to read the time in the darkness. 2:12 in the morning.

They had made it. Well. Almost. The wide meadow was just ahead. She pressed the gas pedal and sped down the narrow, rutted path, eager to be reunited with her friends again.

A kilometer past the border, her friends were watching for them and waiting with a different car and papers for these children to board a boat from Amsterdam to London.

Not far now. There. She’d made i—

Harsh lights exploded through the driver’s window.

No! She couldn’t stop now, they were almost over the border!

But someone moved into the road—

Dragging Dr. Grafton! A gun at the older man’s head.

Holding the gun was none other than her brother.

She slammed on the brakes and skidded in the snowy ruts. The car bounced and jostled, and she placed her other foot on top of the brake as well.

Gripping the steering wheel for all she was worth, she clenched her jaw. Oh, God, please don’t let me hit them!

The car bounced out of the right rut and slid into a tree trunk, coming to a stop with a soft thump.

Her head snapped to the driver window. They were mere inches from hitting the men.

She slumped against the seat and fought the shaking in her limbs. What could she do?

Well, she couldn’t fall apart. That was for certain.

“Melanie!” Her brother’s harsh German accent sent a shiver up her spine.

She looked over her shoulder at the children in the seat behind her. They were her first priority. They’d been instructed to stay quiet, no matter what. How scared they must be!

God, give me wisdom. And fast.

Bleary eyes and tousled hair greeted her.

“Don’t be afraid,” she whispered to them.

“Just stay down.” She opened her door, and her mind spun.

The terrain around her wasn’t exactly conducive for them to try to run on foot.

How far were they from their friends? It couldn’t be that far.

They were at the border which meant only a kilometer—a short thousand meters away.

Perhaps Rick could see them even now. Could she signal them somehow?

And yet, it was too far.

Too far for her to get help.

A wet, frigid breeze cut through her coat.

The click of a gun hammer echoed across the open space.

“Hands up.”

Her brother’s voice was low as he aimed the weapon at her.

The nasty smirk on his face chilled her to the bone. More than the snow falling and adding to the drifts on the ground ever could. Melanie raised her arms, palms facing forward.

Her brother pointed the gun back at Dr. Grafton’s temple.

“No! Don’t hurt him!”

Her brother laughed. “So this man means something to you? More than your own flesh and blood?”

“My own flesh and blood pointed a gun at me and is now pointing it at my friend.” Oh, he made her so angry! She resisted the urge to lunge at him and bit the inside of her cheek.

He sneered. “You’re angry with me? What is it, exactly, that you and your friend do?”

The faces of hundreds of children flooded her mind in a millisecond.

Jesus ... Jesus ...

The tension in her body eased. All fear left her.

She angled a look at her brother and lifted her chin. “You know what I do. I work for Miss Frappier.” She took a slight step closer to Dr. G.

“Don’t. Move.” Her brother jerked his chin toward the car.

“Now, I suspect Miss Frappier is not in support of the Führer and the Nazi Party, which makes her an enemy. I also believe that she is up to something. Why is it, my dear sister ”—he spat the word—“that we have discovered a great deal of communication traveling across Europe in braille ?”

She was not going to be baited. “Probably because she reads and writes in braille and her fans—which include your Führer—want to communicate with her. She is on a European tour, as I’m sure you’ve heard. You were even at one of her performances.”

His dry laugh sounded... evil. “You think I’m a fool, don’t you?”

“Not at all.” Think fast. She needed to keep him occupied until she figured out what to do. “But I do think your work for the Nazis has made you suspicious of everyone. You see an enemy in every person around you.”

His eyes narrowed, lips thinned. “That’s because most of them are. The Führer is a great man with the only solution for this world, and I aim to make sure that he succeeds.”

Solution? Bile rose up her throat. She swallowed it down.

“Your face says it all, dear sister. You don’t have what it takes to do what has to be done.” He pointed the gun at her again. “Get in the car. And if you do anything stupid, I will shoot this man. When you get in the car, put the keys in the ignition and then put your hands on the steering wheel.”

Melanie looked between her brother and Dr. Grafton.

He dipped his chin in a slight nod, but didn’t say a word.

Oh, Lord, please help. I don’t know what to do.

After another second’s pause, her brother yelled. “Get. In. The. Car !”

She did as he instructed. Slowly. She closed the door and, through clenched teeth, whispered to the children, “Not a sound. Keep low.” As she stared out the window at the sibling she’d so hoped to save, her thoughts spun. How had he found them? And what was he planning to d—

Oh! Dr. Grafton spun and punched her brother in the jaw! That threw Randall off balance. But not for long. He leveled a punch at his attacker that knocked Dr. G back.

“No... No !” Her screams fogged up the window with her breath, and all she could see was a tangle of the two men.

She wiped at it with her hand and saw blood on both men’s faces.

Then her brother brought the gun down on top of Dr. Grafton’s head.

The older man fell to the ground.