War Girls Complete Collection Chapter 99

Chapter 11

S

abine jumped at the awaited, and yet utterly unexpected, knock on the door. She glanced at her wristwatch, cursing the early arrival of her tormentor. Not more than fifty minutes had passed since Kriminalkommissar Becker had left the house. Her legs trembling, she made her way to the door somehow, without toppling over.

She smoothed her sweaty palms down her skirt and steeled herself for what would happen next as she opened the door.

Her jaw dropped to the floor at the sight of her neighbor.

Lily loped into the sitting room, swirling around to take everything in, before she came to a stand and scrunched up her nose. “I’m so sorry for all of this.”

“You? You are sorry? It was your idea in the first place to recruit me to work for them!” Sabine managed to keep her voice sufficiently low so the other neighbors wouldn’t hear her through the thin walls.

“Me? No.” Lily gave a sharp laugh, shaking her head. “It was Becker’s idea. But you should really have accepted my offer when I first told you about it. Nothing would have happened to Werner.”

“What do you know about Werner?” Sabine struggled to remain calm.

“No more than you do. Anyway, I came over to say I’m sorry for how things developed for you, and…” Lily seemed to be searching for words. “…and to give you a word of advice. Do whatever Becker asks, give him the information he wants, and your life will be so much better than before.”

A dark suspicion sprouted in Sabine’s heart. Had Lily been the one to suggest Werner be arrested to assure Sabine’s collaboration? “Go. Leave my house!” Sabine snapped, seething inside with a strong urge to wrap her hands around the woman’s skinny neck and squeeze until she stopped breathing. For good.

Smirking, Lily turned on her heel and flounced out of the house.

Hatred, grief and desperation burned in Sabine’s chest as she sank once again to the floor, looking at the lone suitcase standing in the entrance hall. Her life reduced to fifty by twenty inches. Never once had she believed this kind of thing could happen to her. Hadn’t she slept well in the treacherous security of not getting involved with politics and keeping her mouth shut?

Minutes later she heard a pounding on the front door again. Her wristwatch attested that the given hour was over, and she almost admired the Kriminalkommissar for his punctuality. The desolation of her impasse weighing heavily on her shoulders, she opened the front door for the third time on this cold but sunny March morning.

Becker greeted her with the bright smile of a smitten lad and she half expected him to produce a bouquet of flowers from behind his back. Obviously this was wishful thinking, because the only things behind his back were five fierce-looking fellows in SS uniforms.

“Ah, you’re ready to leave,” Becker said with an exaggerated polite bow even as he motioned for the SS men to come inside. They carried strange-looking canisters and disappeared upstairs.

Sabine remained frozen in place, unable to make her legs move, when she heard heavy steps and slurping sounds above her head. She pressed a hand to her chest, feeling more than a bit embarrassed at the thought of five strange men rummaging through her private drawers.

Embarrassment turned into terror when the men trampled down the stairs, pouring an acid-smelling liquid on her freshly cleaned stairs. Sabine gagged, and then gagged some more when her brain recognized the smell.

“Wh…what are they doing?” she asked Becker, who patiently stood by her side, giving a contented smile at the spectacle unfolding in front of him.

“Making things look real.”

Real for what?

His plan to pretend her house had been bombed came crashing back and she shook her head in mute denial.

Becker ignored her and watched his men complete their work, before he took a matchbox from his pocket and offered it to her, “Would you like to do the honors?”

Sabine shook her head in bewilderment. She would not light up her own house. Becker, seeming not to care either way, lit the match and tossed it into the puddle of petrol. “It’s an irony of fate, isn’t it?”

“What is?” Sabine’s brain felt like mash.

“That the home of a fireman would fall prey to fire,” Becker chuckled and grabbed her elbow. “It’s time to leave, Frau Mahler.”

A strange gratitude crept through her for his unforgiving grip on her arm. Otherwise, she would have turned to rush inside and…and what?

Sabine’s insides went numb. She lost all notion of time or place, but soon found herself sitting in the passenger seat of the black Gestapo vehicle, her suitcase neatly stowed in the trunk.

The vehicle lurched into motion and she couldn’t resist looking back at the place she and Werner had once called home as black smoke began to rise skyward. A sob for the things she’d been forced to leave behind threatened to burst from her throat, and she swallowed it down, holding her chin high as her fingernails dug deep into the flesh of her palms.

How much more would she be required to give up before they returned Werner to her?

Unfazed by her distress, Becker said in his usual cold voice, “Don’t worry about the housing assignment. I’ll take care of everything. Unfortunately, I won’t be able to drive you all the way to Frau Klausen’s place since she might become suspicious. Here’s the address.” He handed her a sheet of paper with the insignia of the official housing agency. Two blocks from the address, he stopped to let her out of the vehicle and said, “Good luck. And don’t forget to report to Fräulein Kerber twice a week.”

Then he left her standing at the corner and his automobile sped away.