Mila 18 - Leon Uris [168]
“Andrei?”
“Yes.”
Chris mopped his wet forehead. “Impossible. What’s more, it’s dangerous for you to be here. Dangerous for both of us.” He grabbed her arm. “Wait. Let me think.”
“Hello there, Chris! I’ve been looking for you.”
Chris spun around to see Horst von Epp glower past him, staring at Gabriela. “Sorry, I wasn’t able to get here till late, but I understand it was rather dull—up to now, that is. This makes it all worth while. By God, Chris, you have an unfailing talent to find the most magnificent creatures.”
Gabriela played her role, acknowledging his interest with a coy smile.
“Well, aren’t you going to introduce us, Chris?”
“Yes—certainly.”
“I am Victoria Landowski. I’ve just come to Warsaw from Lemberg for a visit with my cousin. From the many descriptions, I take it you must be Baron von Epp.”
“Madam,” Horst said, taking Gabriela’s hand. He kissed it with a touch and look which embraced all the connotations, and she let her eyes answer him just enough to let him know she understood and welcomed his intentions.
“And where will you be staying, Miss Landowski?”
“I am not quite certain yet, Baron. Why don’t I reach you as soon as I’m settled?”
Horst bowed and backed off gracefully, yielding the girl to Chris with her promise of a future relationship. “It should be a wonderful fall season. ... I say, Chris, are you ill?”
“Dr. Koenig is too generous with his liquor. I think I’ve had one too many.”
“Why don’t we get a breath of air, Chris?” Gabriela said.
“Good idea.”
Horst von Epp watched them leave, intrigued with the pretty little thing. He sized her up for bed. Koenig’s busy aide whispered in his ear that he was invited to the conservatory, where the girls were about to amuse them.
The doorman closed Chris and Gabriela into his Fiat. He fumbled for the ignition switch. “You’re a damned fool walking into this nest,” he mumbled.
Chris drove aimlessly at a crawl, checking the rear-view mirror constantly to see if he was being followed.
“What I want to say is, things have changed.”
“I should say that’s rather obvious.”
“Gaby, you don’t understand.”
“I do understand, quite well. I told Andrei it was a waste of time and that you wouldn’t come.”
“Gaby ...”
“If you gave a damn for him you wouldn’t have let two and a half years go by,” she said.
Chris wanted to tell Gaby he had tried to see her during the past year but had lost track of her when she changed flats. But he could not say it.
“Where is he?” Chris blurted impulsively.
“A hotel room near the yacht club in Saska Kempa.”
Chris sucked in a lungful of air, grunted, looked in the rear-view mirror once more, then made a U turn and drove on the Third of May Boulevard directly for the Poniatowski Bridge. In Saska Kempa, Chris concealed his car in a teamster’s stable several blocks from the shabby hotel.
A meek handshake, an avoiding of Andrei’s eyes. Unbearable small talk. Chris sagged into a hard-backed chair, studying the designs in the linoleum on the floor.
“How have you been?”
“Just fine.”
“Seen Deborah?”
“Yes. She is all right.”
“The children?”
“They are all right.”
“Do you have a glass of water? I’m all dried out.” He sipped and looked up at them. “A hell of a reunion, isn’t it? Well, I’m here. Gaby said it was something desperate.”
“We’ve needed you many times in the past two and a half years,” Andrei said. “But I wouldn’t come to you unless it was something so important we had to come to you.”
He watched Chris go through uncomfortable mannerisms. “What is it?” Chris looked to Gabriela, but she gave no solace in her expression.
“Chris,” Andrei said in a voice filled with an unfamiliar pleading, “tens of thousands of people are being murdered every day in extermination camps. We have put together an authentic report, detailing the locations, the names of the personnel and commanders, the method of operation. We have gone to the Home Army and begged them to get this out to the government in exile, but they won’t help us. Every day means twenty, thirty, forty, fifty thousand human