The Angry Hills - Leon Uris [51]
Lisa was thin, a bit too thin. But this seemed to add to her haunting loveliness. Her eyes had an expression of deep sadness. Her hands, almost too sculptured to be real, seemed to express emotion even as she walked.
Lisa came to a halt before the window of Anton’s Dress Shop. Anton, the pseudo-Frenchman, who guaranteed his high-paying clientele the latest fashions from Paris.
A German officer approached her dubiously, hoping to introduce himself. Lisa cut him with an icy stare that sent him scurrying across the street.
She drew a deep breath, tightened her lips to hold off the tears, then opened the door to Anton’s and stepped into the deeply carpeted reception room.
Anton, dressed in stripes and cutaway, met her and bowed from the waist in recognition. She followed him past the ornate showroom where soft music accompanied a model parading before a customer. They turned into a long corridor past fitting and sewing rooms and into his office.
“Kindly be seated,” Anton said in his high-pitched voice. “They will be here shortly.” He bowed again and departed.
Lisa sank into the leather couch and buried her face in her hands. Tears fell down her proud cheeks. In a moment she braced herself and walked to the liquor cabinet for a brandy.
She stared blankly at the painted wall.
What was there left to live for?
It started the day after the German entrance into Athens. Manolis Kyriakides, her husband and the father of her two children, had showed his true colors.
Lisa’s father, a small factory owner, had defiantly refused to do business with the Germans. He had destroyed many patents the enemy sought.
This was what Manolis had been waiting for. Waiting since the day he had married Lisa. Within a week, Manolis gained control of the factory as the prize for collaboration with the Germans. It was Manolis’ information that sent Lisa’s father to Averof Prison. The old man lived only a few weeks, refusing to divulge the patents up to the moment of his death.
A week after her father’s passing, Lisa learned the true story from a friend. At first, Manolis tried to deny his part. But Lisa knew the truth. Long ago she had learned his pattern of greed and ambition.
She took the children and left him and went into hiding in an apartment in Athens. Then she became one of the first to join the new Underground movement.
Inside a week, she was picked up by the Gestapo.
Manolis, now deep in the Germans’ favor, regained the children. And, so great was the influence of Manolis Kyriakides, the collaborator, that Lisa’s life was spared. He took the case up to Herr Heilser himself. Yes, Manolis was a fine man. Not many husbands would do that for a wife who deserted.
But there had been a motive behind Manolis’ plea for his wife, just as there had been a motive for every move he had ever made in his life. He knew what would happen when Heilser saw her. It was his calculation that Heilser would become infatuated, as did all men. He knew he would continue in Heilser’s favor once Heilser saw his wife.
But Lisa threw a wet blanket on Heilser’s idea of acquiring her as a mistress. Yet the German allowed her to live. She would change her mind, sooner or later, and Konrad Heilser was a man of patience and persistence. Lisa would be worth waiting for.
Her capture had been so swift that the Underground was unaware of it. They were unaware she was being forced to report to Zervos and Heilser. Zervos was the one who had concocted the charming scheme of holding her children as hostages.
It all buzzed around Lisa’s head like a hideous nightmare. At first she thought of suicide. But suicide would have endangered the lives of her children. Manolis was bound to outsmart himself sooner or later and he was too weak to raise a finger to save them. She could not sentence her own sons to death!
But she could not go on playing both sides. Avoiding Heilser’s and Zervos’ questions. Lying to them. Up to now she had not been followed, but how long would