Free Nightfall Over Shanghai by Daniel Kalla Page A

his long hair away from his forehead. “We can’t simply abandon him to some horrid little Japanese hospital in the middle of God knows where.”
    â€œWhat can we possibly do?” she said. “I don’t know even know where they’ve taken him.”
    Simon turned away from the window. His gaze fell to the baby sleeping in Sunny’s arms, and he mustered a small grin. Simon had been crestfallen when she arrived carrying Joey instead of his son, but he hadn’t commented or complained. “Ghoya,” he said.
    â€œWhat about him?” Sunny asked.
    â€œGhoya sent Franz away. He could just as easily bring him back.”
    Sunny shook off the glimmer of hope. There was no substance to any of this talk. “Why would he do that?”
    Simon shrugged. “If Ghoya thought he needed Franz back in the ghetto for some reason, then, believe me, the son of a bitch would bring him back. In a heartbeat.”
    Ernst nodded, motioning to Simon with his cigarette while addressing Sunny. “Is there any sense to this? What would motivate Ghoya?”
    â€œMaybe some kind of medical emergency?” Simon suggested. “Something only Franz can fix?”
    Sunny stared at her two friends. “What are you suggesting?”

    Simon raised an eyebrow. “If Ghoya were to be seriously injured …”
    â€œ
Natürlich!
” Ernst clapped his hands. “Something requiring surgery. Something only Franz could repair.”
    Simon’s eyes found Sunny’s. Momentarily, she saw a violent intensity that was unusual for her gentle friend. “Franz did a bang-up job fixing you after that sailor stabbed you.”
    â€œAre you saying we should ambush Ghoya?” she asked in disbelief.
    â€œWhy not?” Simon said flatly.
    â€œImpossible.” Sunny shook her head vehemently. “Absolutely impossible.”
    Ernst sighed. “
Ja
, this might not be the most practical approach.”
    â€œWe owe it to Franz to try something,” Simon said.
    They fell into silence. Simon turned back to the window. Ernst exhaled plumes of smoke as he studied the ceiling, lost in thought. Sunny gently rocked Joey, asleep in her lap.
    â€œDon’t forget,” Simon spoke up, his back still turned to them. “We know where Ghoya eats lunch, right? Every day at that Café Aaronsohn. Like clockwork.”
    â€œEnough, Simon,” Sunny sputtered. “We’re not going to ambush the man!”
    Simon glanced over his shoulder at her. “What if we poison him instead?”
    â€œFor what possible purpose?”
    â€œNone, I suppose.” Simon paused. “Unless you could convince Ghoya that it was his gall bladder, or appendix, acting up.”
    Ernst patted his pockets, searching frantically for a fresh cigarette. “There must be such a poison, no?”

    â€œThere are some that would cause vomiting and cramping,” Sunny said. A few possibilities came immediately to mind. “That’s the easy part. But if he were to see another doctor—a Japanese one—they would never be fooled.”
    Simon glanced from Ernst to Sunny before turning his attention once again to the window.
    Ernst laughed, clearly recognizing the impracticalities of the farfetched scheme. “Back to the drawing board, then, is it?” he said.
    As desperate as Sunny was to try anything to help her husband, poisoning Ghoya wasn’t the answer. Still, she felt so overwhelmed by gratitude for her friends’ support that tears began to roll down her cheeks.
    Ernst laid a hand lightly on her shoulder. “We’ll think of something. You’ll see.”
    She reached up and squeezed his hand. “Thank you, Ernst. You too, Simon,” she choked out as she wiped her eyes.
    Simon craned his neck for a better view of the street.
    â€œWhat is it, Simon?” she asked.
    Ernst answered for his roommate. “Those Nazis must be passing,” he