Fortunately for Eisler, the soldier didn't seem to understand German. "Edward Murrow on CBS," the foolish man continued. "I am fortunate to have a good grasp of English, you understand. That man Murrow went with RAF bombers on a raid over Berlin. Oh, you should have heard his description. So marvellous! It sounded as if those brave pilots pummelled the Fuhrer's city. Murrow called it 'orchestrated h.e.l.l.' It's so wonderful, is it not, Herr Doktor?"

Franz looked back at Eisler. "How can 'orchestrated h.e.l.l' be wonderful?"

"Berlin, man!" Eisler exclaimed. "The Allies are pounding the n.a.z.i empire at its core."

"And yet the n.a.z.is still dominate Europe," Franz pointed out. "I am told they refer to it as Festung Europa."

"You watch, Dr. Adler. Watch how quickly Fortress Europe collapses as the Allies advance."

"I have heard the same for almost two years," Franz snapped. "How the n.a.z.is will capitulate the moment the Americans and British invade the continent. But where is this invasion? Hitler still has the run of Europe." He motioned to the checkpoint and lowered his voice. "Meantime, we line up in the freezing cold to grovel to a j.a.panese Napoleon for permission to cross the street."

"Any day now, Herr Doktor." Eisler laughed. "You will see."

Movement in front of them drew their attention. Franz looked up to see that the door had opened and people had begun to file inside the building. He shuffled ahead with the rest of the queue as it relocated inside the narrow hallway that led to Ghoya's office. Franz was relieved to see Eisler turn to the person ahead of him. "Do you listen to the wireless?" Eisler exclaimed. "That Edward Murrow is my favourite . . ."

The door to Ghoya's office was wide open, and the little man's voice, even at its quietest, carried the length of the hallway. Franz could tell that his behaviour was as predictably unpredictable as usual. He joked and laughed with some of the refugees and berated, accused or struck others. Anything could launch him into a tirade.

Some people in the line appeared resigned, even bored. Franz a.s.sumed that they faced Ghoya regularly and had grown oblivious to his volatility. Others were ashen with terror or fidgeted nervously. Franz even caught himself shifting from foot to foot and cracking his knuckles.

Over an hour pa.s.sed before he made it to the head of the queue. Franz had rehea.r.s.ed arguments in his head, but as his turn neared, he still had no idea what he would say to Ghoya when he finally faced him.

An expressionless soldier at the door nodded for Franz to enter. At the sight of him, Ghoya hopped up from his seat and rushed around his desk. "No, no, no!" He waved both hands wildly. "No pa.s.ses for anyone in your family. I was clear." He turned his head from side to side as though conferring with imaginary colleagues. "Was I not clear? I believe I was clear."

"You were, Mr. Ghoya." Franz lowered his gaze and bowed before the little man. "I have not come regarding a pa.s.s."

Ghoya's irritability vanished as abruptly as a hailstorm ending. He sauntered around his desk and sunk back into his chair. A thoughtful look crossed his face as he touched his fingertips together in a diamond shape. "Not for a pa.s.s? So why have you come?"

"I am . . . concerned for a friend."

"Which friend?" Ghoya asked.

"Max Feinstein. A doctor. He works at my hospital and-"

A knowing look came to Ghoya's eyes as he raised a hand to cut Franz off. "Maxwell Feinstein from Hamburg, Germany. Yes, yes. I know him!"

"Dr. Feinstein was arrested by the Kempeitai."

Ghoya laughed. "Of course he was! You think I do not know this? I know everything that happens in the Designated Area." He patted his chest. "After all, I am King of the Jews!"

"But, sir, why was Max arrested?"

Ghoya shook his head gravely. "Maybe I should give you a pa.s.s for one day. Yes, maybe. To go see the exhibit on Broadway Street."

Dread overcame Franz, but he pretended to be unaware of the ma.s.s public executions. "Why is that, Mr. Ghoya?"

"Traitors," Ghoya grunted. "They hang there for everyone to see. Those cowards who killed our brave officers."

"But I do not understand." Franz raised a hand. "What do they have to do with Dr. Feinstein?"

"He spies for the Resistance, too."

Franz felt his pulse pounding in his ears. "That is not possible, sir. He is a doctor. He has no interest in war or politics."

"Your doctor friend is a spy!"

"But Max speaks only German. How could he possibly communicate with anyone in the Underground?"

"A spy, I tell you. A spy!" Ghoya clenched his fists as he screamed. "We know it to be so!"

Franz saw it was futile to argue. His heart sank. Was Max even still alive? It almost didn't matter. If the j.a.panese believed him to be a spy, his fate was sealed.

Ghoya's tone suddenly became calm, almost pleasant. "You do understand that your friend is gone?" For a moment, Franz thought Ghoya still meant Max. "Now that Colonel Kubota is no longer with us, no one is left to protect you. You have only me to answer to. Only me." He laughed again. "No reason to concern yourself, Dr. Adler. I am a very fair king."

Franz said nothing.

"Mrs. Aaronsohn tells me every day at lunch how thankful the Jews are for my benevolence," Ghoya said, clearly proud of his choice of words. Then his eyes narrowed and he tut-tutted. "The smuggling . . . the spying . . . it all comes back to that Jewish hospital of yours. The hospital where both colonels and the admiral died. Where that spy Feinstein was working."

"Mr. Ghoya, the hospital is not a.s.sociated-"

"Why should the Jews have their own hospital? What is so special about you people? Tell me!"

"Nothing is special about us," Franz blurted. "We are a miserable people. A cursed people. And it is hardly a hospital at all anymore."

"It is true! Your hospital was of no use to our wounded officers. No help at all! Perhaps the building could be put to other uses."

Franz had run out of arguments, so he simply dropped his chin and nodded in defeat.

But Ghoya seemed to have lost interest in the hospital. He leaned back in his seat. "Colonel Tanaka, he never trusted you Jews."

At the mention of Tanaka, Franz experienced a familiar twinge of guilt.

Ghoya jutted out his lower lip. "Without the king, who knows what the colonel would have done to you Jews."

"We are grateful for your help, of course."

Ghoya held out his hands. "What is a king without his people?"

Franz decided to seize the opening. "You know, sir, Colonel Tanaka is not the only one who wishes ill toward us Jews."

"Yes, yes, I know," Ghoya cried gleefully. "The other Germans! They hate you Jews."

"The n.a.z.is, yes. You are absolutely correct." Franz nodded. "They will probably attack us at any moment."

"Attack you?" Ghoya frowned.

"Yes in the ghet-the Designated Area, sir. We have heard a rumour that they are planning to launch an a.s.sault any day. Of course, you must already have heard this, too."

Ghoya c.o.c.ked his head but said nothing.

"Surely, Mr. Ghoya, they would need your permission before they could plant any bombs in-"

"Bombs?" Ghoya launched himself to his feet. He stared at Franz and when he spoke, his voice was hardly more than a whisper. "What is this talk of bombs?"

CHAPTER 43.

Jakob tugged at Hannah's hands while she covered her face and peeped. "Kuckuck!"

She opened her hands like shutters. As usual, her left hand moved less smoothly than her right, but her nephew was oblivious. He giggled uproariously. The ten-month-old couldn't get enough of his favourite peekaboo game. Hannah was happy for the distraction, too. Jakob's presence counterbalanced the rising tension at home.

School wasn't much better. Hannah and Freddy hardly spoke. What hurt far more than seeing him with Leah was his cheerful indifference. It confirmed what Hannah had feared: for Freddy, she had only ever been a means to an end. Lately, she had been spending more time with Otto Geldmann than any of her other cla.s.smates. While there was a degree of consolation in his sweet attentiveness, Otto never gave her b.u.t.terflies the way Freddy always had.

Jakob swung a hand at her face, demanding more peekaboo. "You are such a determined little one," she laughed as she swept him off the floor and swung him through the air.

Jakob struggled against her until she brought her lips to his belly and blew, which elicited another fit of giggles. "Time to change your diaper, Schatzi," she said.

As Hannah lowered Jakob to the floor, she looked over to the couch, where Esther had been reading Simon's letter. Tears now ran down her cheeks and the letter dangled from her fingers. Hannah had not seen her aunt cry in years, not since those dark months after Kristallnacht when the storm troopers had killed Onkel Karl. "What's wrong, Tante Essie?"

Esther wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. "Ach! It's nothing really. I am only being foolish."

Hannah pa.s.sed Jakob his favourite rattle, which he took to shaking energetically. She got to her feet and hurried over to the couch. Reaching for her aunt's hand, she sat down beside her. "Tell me, Tante, please . . ."

"Simon-he worries about us."

"He always worries when he is not with you," Hannah pointed out. "It's only natural."

Esther smiled through her tears. "This time is different, Hannah-chen."

"How so?"

"Simon says he cannot wait any longer. That he will not. He insists on coming to join us."

"Here? In the ghetto?"

Esther nodded. "There couldn't be a worse time for him to sneak across the checkpoint. You have seen how vigilant the j.a.panese are being ever since the Underground-" She caught herself.

"Killed those j.a.panese officers," Hannah finished her sentence.

"Of course, you too would have heard about that."

"Everyone has. And I know they died at Papa's hospital." Hannah stifled a sigh. Her aunt was as overprotective as her father, both of them believing they could somehow shelter her from the bad news that was as predictable in Shanghai as the winter rain. "Last month there was a rumour going around at school that a group of former students was behind the killing."

"That's nonsense, Hannah. It was the Resistance."

"I never believed the gossip."

Esther went quiet. When she finally spoke, her voice was hoa.r.s.e. "If Simon were to be caught, they would not simply take him back to a camp. No, they would . . ." She shuddered. "I cannot even bear to think of it."

Hannah thought of the women who were shot for trying to escape their home during a raid. She squeezed her aunt's hand tighter. "We have to convince him to stay put."

"He will not listen to us."

"Why not?"

"In light of the, er . . ." Esther hesitated. "Recent events. He feels he has to be here to protect us."

"You mean the bomb the n.a.z.is are planning?"

Esther grimaced. "You know about that, too?"

Hannah nodded. "Last week, I overheard Sunny and Papa talking about it."

"Yes, but-"

"I am not a child," Hannah huffed, aware that she sounded like the epitome of a petulant teenager but too angry to care. "In a few months, I will be fourteen. You do not need to protect me from this anymore."

"I'm sorry, Hannah. You are right. You're practically grown up. G.o.d knows you are wise beyond your years." Esther mustered another smile. "I cannot help myself. Sometimes when I look at you, I just see my precious little niece, not the young woman you are becoming." She pointed to Jakob, who was trying to eat his rattle while hauling himself to his feet against the side of the couch. "I want to protect all of you from the misery in this world."

Hannah leaned closer to her aunt. "I want to help you, Essie. Let me."

"I know, Hannah-chen," Esther murmured. "I love you for it, too. But I don't think anyone can stop Simon. Once he sets his mind to something . . ."

Hannah pulled her hand free of Esther's and snapped her finger. "Tell him you will leave."

"Leave?" Esther frowned. "I do not understand."

"Warn Simon that if he tries to come for you, you will take Jakob and go somewhere where he will never find you."

"I can't make a threat like that," Esther said, more in surprise than anything else.

"Even if it stops him from doing something so rash?"

Esther stared at Hannah for a moment. "I suppose it might be worth it. Yes, it just might."

The door opened, and Hannah looked over to see her stepmother enter.

Sunny picked up on Esther's distress from across the room. She looked quickly over to Jakob and, seeing that he was fine, hurried over to the couch. "What's wrong, Essie? Is it Simon?"

Esther waved the letter in her hand. "He is planning something . . . something suicidal."

Sunny took the letter from her hand and read it silently, then folded it and pa.s.sed it back to Esther. "I will speak to him."

"You will?" Esther said.