Page 43 of The Last Safe Place
“Yes. This changes everything. I’ll have to take them with me. I’ll travel to see you tomorrow morning and we can discuss everything.”
“Good idea. I’ll be home all day.”
“Thanks for the warning.” Michaela sat for half an hour, staring dazed at the telephone. Then she straightened her shoulders, pulled the plug from the wall, wound the cable neatlyand carried the telephone into the hallway, where she put on a light summer coat and hat. With a heavy heart she walked to the police station to hand in her radio and telephone. On the way home, each step felt more arduous than the last.
On the one hand, she was overjoyed at the thought of having her daughters back with her; on the other, she would have liked to spare them a life as refugees – if they survived the long journey, first to Switzerland, then across Europe to Portugal to a ship, and finally – a shiver shook her from head to toe – the dangerous journey across an ocean teeming with submarines on the hunt.
On an impulse, she switched direction, heading for the bus stop, until she remembered she was no longer allowed to use public transport. She clenched her hands into fists, buried them deep in her coat pocket and stopped instead by a public telephone, where she called Eberhard Lange’s office, in the hope he still had a telephone line. She let it ring until it fell silent, demonstrating the futility of her plan. Cursing in a very unladylike manner, she left the telephone booth and walked the considerable distance to Eberhard Lange’s office.
The July heat burned mercilessly down on Michaela as she made her way from memory through the maze of streets. It was fortunate that, thanks to her many home visits, she knew her way around Berlin very well, or she would certainly have gotten lost.
Her tongue was sticking to the roof of her mouth by the time the building with Herr Lange’s office finally appeared like a mirage in the desert. The front door was ajar. Ignoring the ugly “Jewish Business” warning sign, she stepped into the pleasant, cool air of the hallway, where she fanned herself before tackling the stairs to the first floor.
Arriving at the top, she rang the bell at the frosted glass door with its inscription “Eberhard Lange, consultant.” Anotherfellow sufferer, no longer allowed to use the professional title he had worked so hard to obtain. A wave of hatred swept over Michaela.
Seconds later, footsteps approached and the door opened. It was Herr Lange himself. “Frau Kronberg,” he said in amazement. “Have I overlooked an appointment?”
“I don’t have an appointment, I came here on the off chance.” Suddenly she realized Eberhard Lange was a very busy man who probably didn’t have time for her. “Please excuse me if I have arrived at an inconvenient time, but it’s urgent.”
“My next client won’t be here for another fifteen minutes. Please, come in.” Inside, he offered her a glass of water and ushered her into his office. “Next time, it would be better to call first.”
“I did. It must have rung twenty times, but no one answered.”
“That’s very strange.” He stroked his chin. “Although, when I think about it, the telephone hasn’t rung all day.” He walked over to the telephone, picked up the receiver, and held it to his ear. “No dial tone.”
“They probably cut your line.”
“Why would the telephone company do that? I have always paid my bills on time.”
“I had to take my telephone to the police station today,” said Michaela.
“I was able to obtain an exemption. But let’s not waste time puzzling over the telephone line. What brings you to me so urgently?”
“It’s about my daughters. They have to come with me to Switzerland,” Michaela blurted out.
Herr Lange looked at her in incomprehension. “I didn’t know you had children.”
“I don’t usually talk about them, for their own protection. They both live with my late husband’s sister in the country.They’re registered there as Aryans, with the tacit consent of the mayor and the headmaster.”
“I see.” Herr Lange looked Michaela straight in the eye. “Why have you suddenly decided to take them with you? Wouldn’t they be better off with their aunt?”
“My sister-in-law has been warned that a new decree is about to be issued: children whose Aryan parent dies are to be treated as Jews.”
Herr Lange stared at her before responding cautiously, “That is a truly disturbing development.”
“Please, they’re no longer safe in Germany.” Michaela was close to throwing herself at the man’s feet.
“Sadly, I have to agree. However, it’s not up to me to amend the list of Operation Seven names, especially at this advanced stage.”
“Please, I’m begging you, talk to your contact at the Abwehr.” Her throat was so choked with despair, she could barely speak. “I… I can’t go without my daughters. I can’t save myself and leave them to their fate.”
“I understand completely.” Herr Lange took a deep breath. “Believe me, if it were up to me, I would integrate your daughters into the operation instantly, but the decision lies with the Abwehr.”
“Will you at least ask your contact there?”
“Certainly. I’ll do it this afternoon.” He pushed a sheet of paper and a pen across the desk. “Please write down your daughters’ personal details.”
Right at that moment, the doorbell rang and Herr Lange said, “This will be my next client. One moment, please.”