Heirs of Falcon Point, page 4
Which was more of a risk: Nazi bullets or losing control when he went too fast on the snow? No one had shot at him yet. Maybe they didn’t need to. Karl was unlikely to pull away from them at his current pace.
Switchback after switchback, Karl crawled down the mountain. His hands ached from holding the steering wheel too firmly, and Ingrid’s nervous whimpers whenever he went around a curve didn’t help. The truck following him stayed a steady two lengths behind. Ahead, the main road of the village showed tracks of pavement where the snow had melted after another vehicle had made a path. He could go faster there, if he could get to it.
As he reached the last switchback, the truck behind him erased the distance between them. Karl pushed the accelerator down more than he should have, slipped, braked, and lost control. The Mercedes spun, and so did Karl’s stomach. Trees and houses and snow blurred as the car made a complete rotation.
Anna screamed, and Ingrid shushed her.
Karl swallowed and pushed the car into neutral. The truck slammed on its brakes, spun, and slid into a ditch, facing up the mountain.
Karl inhaled and exhaled, trying to dispel the fear that had surged when he’d lost control of the car. The Mercedes still moved forward—in the correct direction—unlike their pursuers. But the Nazis weren’t giving up. One of them climbed from the truck with a rifle and aimed at the Mercedes.
“Stay down!” Karl shoved the stick back into gear.
He reached a section of road not covered in snow and stomped on the accelerator as the first rifle shot sounded. He hunched low over the steering wheel, moved through the gears, and prayed the moving target would be too hard for Sauermann’s men to hit.
The village wasn’t large, and the main road would soon curve into another series of switchbacks down the mountain, but there wouldn’t be quite as much accumulated snow. He glanced in the mirror. The truck was still off the road despite several soldiers trying to move it back. Karl was running out of good road, but he was also out of reasonable rifle range.
“Ingrid, Anna, sit up and hang on. We’ve more snowy roads ahead.”
Chapter 6
They drove through a valley, and the road was clear of snow. Karl hadn’t seen the truck with Sauermann’s henchmen since leaving the village, and there was enough traffic now that he doubted they’d be spotted. Plenty of black Mercedes-Benz 230s drove along the road in both directions.
“Do we have enough petrol to reach Linz?” Ingrid leaned forward from the back of the vehicle.
“I think so. And I know how to refill the tank. We could drive all the way to Zurich.” Maybe that was wiser, in case Sauermann guessed their plan and cared enough to pursue them.
Ingrid’s voice held a bit of mirth. “I’m not sure I trust your driving for that long of a journey. We’re bound to come to more roads with snow. And we’re supposed to meet Frau Davies in Linz. Won’t it be better to have her help?”
Karl didn’t answer right away. He was too old to need a nanny, but he’d be glad to have help with the tasks ahead. He had Papa’s papers to deliver, and then there was emigration, a home to find, schools to enroll in, meals to be planned, and clothing to be secured. Frau Davies would be far more competent than he when it came to all those things. If they didn’t come, she would wait, or head to Falcon Point, and then she might be in danger. “We’ll head to Linz.”
“I miss Papa.” Anna’s voice was soft, but it pierced Karl with sorrow. He missed Papa, too, only his yearning was worse because he knew there would be no reunion in this life. He gripped the steering wheel as rage at Sauermann grew from a snowball to an avalanche. Sauermann had had no right to take their papa from them, no right to drive them from their home, no right to chase them.
“I’ll tell you a story, Anna. That will help pass the time,” Ingrid said. “So will a sandwich.”
“I’ll take a sandwich.” Karl reached a hand back for it.
“While you’re driving?”
Karl grunted. “Yes. The roads are dry, and I’m hungry.”
Ingrid sniffed her disapproval, but she handed him a sandwich. He’d have to eat it without a fork and knife, but Frau Davies had told them that was normal in some parts of the world.
“I’m ready for a story.” Anna’s voice was muffled, probably from food.
“Very well.” Ingrid paused dramatically. “Once upon a time, an Austrian princess went on an adventure.”
Karl could hear the smile in Ingrid’s voice as she recited the familiar story their mother and father had told them so often at bedtime. As the princess and her friends overcame their initial distrust for each other and then cooperated to complete their quest and slay a dragon, it seemed to make Karl’s own situation a little less dire. Like the characters in the story, he and his sisters could manage if they worked together. He slowed at a crossroads and took the turn for Linz.
He drove in silence for a while. The light outside grew dim, and then twilight faded into night. He yawned, then did his best to shift around in the seat so he wouldn’t fall asleep. Moving wasn’t enough; he needed to keep his mind occupied. He caught Ingrid’s eye in the mirror. “You tell the story the same way Mama did.”
“It seemed to make Anna happy. And take my mind off things, like what on earth happens in the final pages of Around the World in Eighty Days.”
“I can tell you what happens. Phileas is certain he’s lost the bet, but then—”
“Don’t you dare spoil it, Karl. I want to read it for myself.”
Karl nodded. He would have grabbed her book for her if he hadn’t been in such a hurry. They could probably find a copy at a library or a bookshop when they arrived somewhere safe. “Is Anna asleep?”
“Yes, the little dove.”
“Ingrid, there’s something I have to tell you. But you mustn’t be angry that I didn’t tell you sooner.”
“As long as it’s not the ending to Around the World in Eighty Day.”
“No. Nothing so cheerful.”
“What is it?” The teasing note in her voice was gone, replaced with dread.
Karl swallowed. “Herr Sauermann shot Papa. He’s dead.”
“What?” Ingrid’s words were strained when she spoke—high-pitched and warbled. “No—he can’t be dead!”
“I watched him take his last breath.”
Ingrid murmured a few more denials, but mostly, she sobbed for what felt like a long time. Karl adjusted the rearview mirror, and light from a passing car revealed her tears. If it hadn’t been for the threat of Sauermann’s pursuit, he would have pulled the car over and wept with her. The grief and the anger and the frustration of it all threatened to choke him. The road beneath them slid by in a blur, dark and shiny, and still his sister cried.
“I don’t understand.” Ingrid had mastered her sobs, but her voice was still uneven. “Papa and Herr Sauermann were friends.”
“Sauermann’s a Swastika. Papa wasn’t. He wasn’t willing to work with the Reich, no matter how much they wanted him.”
“But wouldn’t it have been better to cooperate than be murdered?”
Karl sighed. “A few days ago, I would have said yes. Peace—for a country or for a person—it’s worth a lot. But it can come at too high a cost. Papa would have always regretted going against his conscience.”
“Things haven’t been peaceful for a long time. Between the Reds and the Swastikas . . .” Ingrid trailed off with another sob.
“We haven’t had peace and security, but we had our independence, at least for a while. The last thing Papa said to me was ‘red-white-red.’ Do you know what that means?”
“That he was committed to an independent Austria until the end. But where does that leave us?”
“It means we’re children of a man the Nazis consider a traitor. We can’t stay, not now. If Sauermann could kill a man he’s called a friend for twenty-five years, we aren’t safe either, not from him, not from the men he works with.” Karl met Ingrid’s eyes for a moment in the mirror, then focused on the road. “Papa had a plan, a way to resist the Reich. It’s up to me to finish his work.”
“How? You’re only seventeen. We’re all alone now. We’ve no one to help us.”
“We have Frau Davies. And Papa had friends in Zurich and Paris. You know Papa. He had plans. Feel your coat, near the bottom.”
“Something’s wrong with the lining. It was digging into my skin on the way down the mountain.”
“Gerta sewed jewelry into it. Into Anna’s too. Probably mine as well, but I grabbed Papa’s coat instead. We’ll have something to tide us over until we can go back. And Papa hid away some of our treasures where Sauermann will never find them. They’ll be waiting for us when we return.”
“The painting with the swans . . . and the one of the Hofburg.”
“Those and others. Most of Mama’s jewelry too. Who knows what else. We just have to slay our dragon and go back to claim our castle.”
Ingrid sniffed. “Slaying a dragon? It almost sounds easy compared to stopping Hitler.” Then her voice crumpled again. “And neither will bring back Papa.”
“No. We’ll have to tell Anna, but maybe we should wait until we’re somewhere safe. She’ll be devastated, and we have to keep our wits. It won’t be difficult for Sauermann to guess we’ve gone to Linz.” Herr Pichler and Gerta knew where they’d gone, so Karl had to assume Sauermann would find out too. Karl and his sisters were just children, but if Sauermann hadn’t wanted them to leave Falcon Point, he wouldn’t want them to leave Linz either. If he marshalled the resources he had as an SS officer and called the station, they might be walking into a dragon’s lair. But the alternative—leaving Frau Davies to face the dragon alone—was unacceptable.
***
Karl parked the Mercedes at Linz Central Station and told his sisters to wait in the car. He walked along the building and peeked into the station house. No sign of the SS. Maybe Sauermann hadn’t called ahead. Maybe he’d given up his pursuit.
They would need a cart to help with the luggage, so Karl rented one, then returned to the car. “It’s safe,” he told his sisters. They climbed out, and Ingrid helped Anna fasten the buttons of her coat.
Karl loaded the luggage onto the cart, then paused as he removed Papa’s suitcase from the car. He would bring it, not because he expected his father to return but because he wasn’t ready to abandon it.
“Keep an eye out for Frau Davies,” he said. If they didn’t find her, Karl would manage, but he hoped it wouldn’t come to that. Frau Davies was half English, though she’d spent much of her life in Austria, held a Reich passport, and spoke impeccable German. Having British blood could lead to problems if the Nazis found out, but as long as her paperwork was correct and Sauermann didn’t show up, the four of them ought to have smooth travels.
“There she is!” Anna broke into a run and darted out of sight.
Panic swelled as Anna disappeared into the crowd. Karl couldn’t lose his sisters, but chasing Anna would mean abandoning the luggage. “Go after her,” he told Ingrid.
Soon, both sisters had vanished into the building of long windows and modernist concrete. A few minutes later, they reappeared from the throng of waiting passengers with the addition of their former nanny.
“Karl!” Frau Davies hugged him, then held his arms. She used to grab his shoulders when she wanted a good look at him, but he was too tall for that now. “How time has flown. You’re every bit the young man now. But where is Herr Lang?” She looked around for their father.
“He . . . he’s not coming.” Ingrid bit her lip and glanced at Anna.
“We had to leave in a hurry, I’m afraid. Herr Sauermann is no longer a friend. He almost prevented our departure.” Karl would have to tell Frau Davies more eventually but hoped that moment hadn’t yet come.
“Your father told me ages ago that Herr Sauermann is no longer a friend.” Frau Davies held Anna’s hand but directed her remarks at Karl.
Karl wished Papa would have told him sooner, but of course Frau Davies knew. If Papa had arranged for her help, he would have also told her who was ally and who was enemy.
Frau Davies continued. “But I was expecting your father and a few items he promised to bring. Did he send anything with you?”
Anna nodded. “He gave me a picture of Falcon Point manor. And Karl a book, and Ingrid a jewelry box.”
A frown pulled at the woman’s mouth. “Perhaps the book has what we need. He promised passports and visas.”
Ingrid dug into her pocket and pulled out two passports. “I’ve mine and Anna’s.”
“And I’ve mine.” Karl had packed it into his knapsack.
Frau Davies motioned them toward a portion of the station that wasn’t quite so busy. “We’ll make do with those, if needed. I have five tickets to Budapest. When we get there, I’ll buy tickets to Istanbul, then we’ll sail to England. Your Papa thought it best to travel under different names, but I don’t imagine the Nazis care over much about children of your ages, regardless of who your father is.”
Karl took the New Testament his father had given him from the backpack and flipped through its pages. No passports were hidden inside the cover. The only thing he noticed were five handwritten letters, F E T R L, along the inside margin. He squinted but couldn’t make sense of it.
“What is it?” Ingrid asked.
Karl showed her. She turned the page and found another set of five letters in the margin of the next page and another set on the page after that. But the letters didn’t make words. “Could this be what he meant to send?”
Frau Davies shook her head. “I’m sure it’s from your father, and I’m sure he had a very good reason for writing it, but I don’t think it’s going to help us flee the Reich.”
Karl nodded and put the book away. He’d ponder that mystery another time. He pulled his father’s luggage from the cart so he and Ingrid could dig through the items. There, folded neatly into a crisp, white dress shirt, were five sets of travel documents. The pictures were of their faces, and they still had the same first names, but the birthdays were off by a few weeks, and everyone, including Frau Davies, had a new last name: Eckerstorfer.
Frau Davies nodded her approval. “If anyone asks, I’m your aunt. Come, let’s board. If we miss this next train, we’ll have to wait until tomorrow, and I think it’s best we leave today.”
Karl agreed. So far, the station was unthreatening—Sauermann hadn’t shown up, nor did the SS have a larger-than-normal presence—but the sooner they left, the better. They showed their new papers to the correct official and boarded the train. Then they settled into a sleeper. Karl didn’t normally go to bed so early, but he was exhausted from all that had happened.
Anna, on the other hand, seemed full of energy. “Can’t we wait until the train starts before we try to sleep?”
“Some of us weren’t able to nap during the drive to the station.” Ingrid cupped Anna’s face in her hand and chuckled. “Karl had to drive, and I had to keep him awake.”
“But we’re starting a journey all the way to . . .” Anna looked around to make sure they were alone and continued only in a whisper. “All the way to England. I’m too excited to sleep now.”
Karl knew exactly what to tell her to remedy the undue excitement, but he didn’t have the heart. He didn’t want to listen to her cry herself to sleep when she learned they were orphans. He’d tell her in Budapest or in Istanbul. “Just until we leave the station, then we’ll try to sleep.”
Anna nodded her agreement.
Frau Davies pulled out her knitting. Anna stared out the window at the people passing by, Ingrid read a newspaper, and Karl looked at the identity papers from his father—the ones with his picture and the ones with Papa’s. How had Papa managed to get five sets of documents that looked so genuine? Karl compared the real ones with the faux ones and couldn’t detect any difference. Had he bribed someone? Papa had said he worked with codes, not with forgery. Maybe he had professional connections. He must have been planning their escape for some time.
Anna gasped.
“What is it, little dove?” Karl went to the window and looked over her shoulder.
Anna pointed. “It’s Herr Sauermann!”
The train carriage was heated pleasantly, but Karl’s blood turned to ice. With Sauermann were five soldiers, all of them speaking with a railway official.
“Will he see us watching?” Ingrid asked.
“Put a hat on, Karl.” Frau Davies kept her voice even. “You’ll look almost like an adult. See what they’re up to. Anna, you’ll need to stay away from the window—they’ll be looking for children. Ingrid, let me rework your hair so you look a little older.”
Karl obeyed Frau Davies. He pulled a fedora from his father’s suitcase and hid his blond hair beneath it. Then he watched, using an abandoned newspaper to hide behind should Sauermann or his men start checking the windows.
They did worse.
The railway official gathered some of his coworkers, and they and Sauermann’s soldiers split into three teams. One group boarded a different train, an express headed west, and began examining passengers and papers.
Sauermann’s group walked toward the train to Budapest.
“They’re coming.” Karl tried to keep his voice calm, but inside, fear, panic, and anger churned. Sauermann was a murderer, but because he had the right political stance, he was unlikely to be punished.
“What should we do?” Ingrid asked.
The men were searching for two girls, aged seven and fifteen, and a boy of seventeen. If they all split up, perhaps they wouldn’t cause suspicion. But Sauermann would recognize each of the children, regardless of where they were, and he was boarding their train. He might even recognize Frau Davies. They couldn’t let Sauermann see any of them, especially not together. “I have a plan. Anna, you’ll have to hide behind the luggage. Frau Davies will tell you when it’s safe to come out. Can you do that? And be perfectly quiet?”
