Free Zoo Station by David Downing Page A

would never be punished, another story that begged to be told.

    And would he risk losing his son to tell it? No, he wouldnt.

    And was he ashamed of his silence? Yes, he was.

    He levered himself off the wall and walked slowly on toward his own courtyard and block. As he reached the entrance he remembered the empty car. It was gone.

    Inside, Frau Heidegger seemed, as usual, to be waiting for him. What was all that noise about? she asked, then noticed his face. Herr Russell, you look like youve seen a ghost!

    The SA came for a couple of homosexuals in the next block, he said. There seemed no point in giving her the gory details.

    Oh, she said, shaking her head in involuntary denial. I know the men you mean. They . . . well . . . its not our business, is it? She ducked back inside her door and re-emerged with an unstamped envelope. This came for you. A plainclothes policeman delivered it this morning.

    He opened it. The Gestapo wished to see him. Within three days.

    They just want a chat, he reassured her. Something to do with my accreditation, I expect.

    Ah, she said, sounding less than completely convinced.

    Russell shared her misgivings. As he climbed the stairs, he told himself there was nothing to worry about. Theyd read his letter to the Soviets, and just wanted to clarify his intentions. If it was anything else, they wouldnt be delivering invitations and letting him pick the daytheyd be throwing him out of the window.

    A frisson of fear shot across his chest, and his legs felt strangely unsteady. Suddenly the photographic book seemed like a very bad idea.

    Ha ho bloody he, he muttered to himself.

    The Knauer Boy

    THE GESTAPOS INVITATION TO dance was still on Russells desk when he got up the following morning. One Sturmbannfuhrer Kleist was expecting to see John Russell in Room 48, 102 Wilhelmstrasse, within the next 72 hours. No explanation was offered.

    It wasnt actually the Gestapo102 Wilhelmstrasse was the head-quarters of the Party intelligence organization, the Sicherheitsdienst . Though both were run by Reinhard Heydrich with a cheery disregard for legal niceties, the SD had a reputation for more sophisticated thuggerysame pain, cleaner floors.

    He read the letter through again, looking for a more sinister message between the lines, and decided there was none. Shchepkin had said theyd want to talk to him, and they did. It was as simple as that. A friendly warning was waiting in Room 48, and nothing more. Sturmbannfuhrer Kleist would turn out to be a Hertha supporter, and they would chat about what had gone wrong this season.

    Still, Russell thought as he shaved, there was no reason to hurry down there. He couldnt afford to miss the new Chancellery opening at noon, and there was no telling how long the various ceremonies would take. Tomorrow would do. Or even Wednesday.

    Back in his room, he picked up the Leica and took a few imaginary photos. It had no flash, but Zembski had said the lens was good enough for indoor shooting as long as he held the camera steady. And he could always ask the Fuhrer for the loan of a shoulder.

    Cheered by this thoughtfeeling, in fact, unreasonably buoyant for someone with an appointment at 102 Wilhelmstrassehe headed downstairs and out into the gray January morning. As if in response to his mood, a tram glided to a halt at the stop on Friedrichstrasse just as he reached it. Ten minutes later he was ensconced in a Cafe Kranzler window seat, enjoying a first sip of his breakfast coffee as he examined the morning papers.

    Foreign Minister Ribbentrop had been talking to the visiting Polish leader, Colonel Becknow there were two men who deserved each other. The new battle cruiser Scharnhorst had been commissioned at Wilhelmshaven, complete with nine eleven-inch guns, two catapults, and three planes. The new captains main claim to fame was his shelling of a Spanish seaside town in 1937, while commanding the pocket battleship Admiral Scheer . On the home front, Pastor Martin