“Come to bed with me. I have absolutely nothing on under this sheet. We’ll go to breakfast later.”

  He took off his clothes, dropped them on the floor, and slid under the sheet with her. Her skin was like satin as she moved against him, turning him on his back and touching him all over. This was Eliska: assertive—no, aggressive—in bed, and his fatigue was forgotten as he took her in his arms.

  #

  They both dozed afterward. He woke after a couple of hours and began wondering about her for the hundredth time. Their affair had begun before the war, when her German husband lived with her in Prague. She had come to him to make some inquiries about divorce. Nothing definite at the time, just inquiries. She wasn’t happy with Kurt Muller, who was the son of a rich industrialist and a bit of a playboy. Anton wondered back then whether she would ever be truly content with any man, but he couldn’t resist her advances, or maybe it was just that he didn’t want to, and the affair began.

  He thought she probably was seeing others, too, but it didn’t really matter. He liked her, and admired her wit and intelligence, but the affair was all about sex. No love was involved on either side. His only worry now was that she was married to a German, and she didn’t seem to have a strong reaction to what had happened to Czechoslovakia. Her feelings centered on her own happiness and on the people in her circle who could contribute to it.

  Kurt Muller had turned out to be more patriot than playboy, and when Germany invaded Poland, he rushed home to Berlin to enlist. Now she had begun divorce proceedings in earnest, and Anton had turned her case over to a colleague, explaining to her that it would be best for someone else to handle it since they were involved.

  She opened her eyes. “I’m hungry.”

  “I am, too. Let’s go get something, and then you need to go home. I have things to do today.” What he needed to do was get five or six more hours of sleep before walking back to Dr. Havelka’s to check on Tereza.

  Now she was pouting. “I wanted us to do something today.”

  “Sorry; I can’t.”

  She got up and started putting on her bra, and he grabbed her and pulled her back into bed. She pushed him away. “Let me go! If you aren’t going to spend the day with me, I’m not going back to bed with you.”

  “Okay, okay, let’s get something to eat.” He went to the bathroom. “I need a shower first.”

  She came to be bathroom door. “You’ve hardly been at your office at all lately. What are you up to? Not seeing another woman, I hope.”

  He knew she wouldn’t care if he were seeing another woman. This was just her way of pretending he was her only paramour and that she wasn’t the libertine he knew she was.

  She must have been visiting his colleague, the one handling the divorce, the one who undoubtedly suspected what he was up to and covered for him. “Not all my business is conducted in the office. I have several elderly clients who insist on seeing me in their homes.”

  She said no more, and they went downstairs to Mrs. Svobodova’s bakery where, because he was her renter and she liked him, she would fix them eggs to go with their pastries if she had any and wasn’t busy. He couldn’t shake the uneasy feeling that came over him when Eliska asked why he wasn’t spending more time in his office. True, she was divorcing the German, but did she know others? And what was her relationship with them?

  CHAPTER TWO

  When Adelka Janakova heard the faintest of noises upstairs, she knew it couldn’t be Zita, the maid. Zita had left just minutes before to go grocery shopping. She went to the bottom of the stairs and listened; she heard nothing more. But there had been something, she was sure of it, and she felt the need to check. If a rodent had gotten into the attic, she’d have to do something about it. She’d be able to hear better upstairs if that were the case. She’d ask Zita, whose room was on the second floor, whether she’d noticed anything.

  She almost welcomed a reason to go upstairs, since she hadn’t gone to the second floor lately. Her nephew, Anton Janak, had insisted that she move to a downstairs bedroom so she wouldn’t have to climb the stairs. He had come with one of his partners, Josef Mares, and they had switched all the furniture between her upstairs bedroom and the one downstairs that she normally used for guests. Now that the war was on, people weren’t visiting anyway, and she’d turn her former bedroom to a guest room after the war.

  When she got to the second-floor hallway, she could see that the door to the last room on the right was closed. This was unusual, since Zita cleaned up here at least once a week and didn’t bother closing the doors. Adelka felt the slightest hesitation about opening the door, but then what could be behind it? She and Zita were in the house all the time, so no one could have come in without their knowing it.

  She turned the knob and pushed the door open. A young man who looked to be in his mid-twenties was sitting on the edge of the bed. “What are you doing in my house?” she asked.

  “I needed a place to stay until arrangements can be made for me to leave Prague.”

  Zita must have had something to do with this. “And how did you happen to pick my house?”

  “I know Zita.”

  His manner was straightforward enough. He must be a member of the resistance, but hadn’t they been practically wiped out with all the reprisals after Heydrich’s assassination? At least that was the word whispered among the older ladies in her church group. Then again there was the situation with Anton. He was involved in something clandestine, she was virtually sure of it, so there must be at least a rudimentary movement in place.

  “You’re wanted by someone, I suppose. What’s your name?”

  “Gustav.”

  “It’s not the Prague police, is it?” She wasn’t about to harbor a criminal.

  “No, ma’am.”

  She’d really have to have a word with Zita for doing something like this without letting her know. These were strange times, however, and she couldn’t help feeling elated about doing something against the SS or Gestapo, any small effort to repay them for Cyril’s death. She was his older sister, she’d always been protective of him, and this might be her chance to start getting even. She believed the young man when he said the police weren’t looking for him, and she wouldn’t ask anything more, at least not now.

  “You may stay here until you’re able to leave. Do you have any ration stamps?”

  “No, and no money. I had to leave everything behind.”

  “We’ll manage.” Somehow, Zita found enough food, and that was something else that Adelka wondered about but didn’t ask. The black market was rampant throughout the city, this much she knew. She and Zita were able to eat, and to feed Anton when he came to take her somewhere. Now they’d feed Gustav, too.

  #

  Adelka poured soup into a bowl, added a spoon, and started up the stairs with it. Zita usually took lunch to the young man in the spare bedroom, but she was out shopping for food again.

  When Adelka had confronted Zita about Gustav, she said he was a friend who was out of work and needed a place to stay until he found a job. Adelka knew there was more to the story, since Gustav indicated he needed to get out of Prague, and when he hadn’t left the house or even the upstairs during the first week, she sat Zita down and insisted she tell the truth about her friend.

  Zita’s pretty face looked troubled. “I know how you feel about the Nazis, so I hoped you wouldn’t mind. He’s on the run from them. He was involved in a clandestine operation—I’m not sure what it was, and he wouldn’t tell me. Anyway, he’ll be sent to another area soon. I appreciate your helping him. We went to school together.”

  Adelka wondered why she felt like laughing, when she needed to scold Zita. “You should have told me the truth from the beginning. Then I could have had the opportunity to decide whether our safety was more important than helping him. However, it’s done now, he’s here, and he can stay till he can leave safely. You’ve done a marvelous job getting food for us, so I’ve no doubt you’ll be able to get enough so that we can continue feeding him, too.” She felt like hugging the girl, not just for her skill in furnishing food, but also for providing the opportunity to strike at the Nazis.

  What would Anton think if he knew what she was involved in? It wouldn’t do to tell him now, but after the war, she would. They both could laugh about it then. And he probably had stories of his own to share. She was virtually sure he was involved with the resistance, or what was left of it, but he would be even more concerned about her than she was about him if he knew about the mysterious stranger in the upper bedroom. She prayed for Anton every night, and she didn’t know what else to do to alleviate her worries about him.

  His mother had died when he was six, and shortly after his father took a position in the law school at Charles University. They moved in with her; Anton stayed till he was ready to start law school, and Cyril continued living with her until his death of a heart attack on the night the invasion began. Now she had an opportunity to strike back at the Nazis; she would do everything in her power to see that the young man was safe as long as he was in her household.

  CHAPTER THREE

  It wasn’t that far from Old Town, where Anton’s flat was located, to Valdstejnska Street in the stately residential area where Teta Adelka and Dr. Havelka lived. It was a brilliant September afternoon, and he was enjoying the walk. He crossed the Vltava and walked by his old apartment building. He still regretted giving up the place, since it was one of the nicest in town, with a fine view of the city. He had felt, when he became involved in the resistance, that a less conspicuous place would be better, especially one with a hiding place for the Rosalie. And he was saving enough on rent to almost make up for his losses at the law office.

  This was something else Eliska questioned, his change of apartments, but he told her he’d always wanted to live in Old Town, to get to know every street and alleyway there. And this wasn’t entirely untrue. He was enjoying his time there, and his apartment, through small, was comfortable. There was a tiny sitting area with an alcove for a kitchen, a bedroom with a firm bed, which was to his liking, and a bath.

  He approached the doctor’s office from the alley at the rear and went in the back entrance. The door to the room where Tereza was being kept was closed, and he tapped lightly. Dr. Havelka’s wife Anna opened the door. “Come in. We’ve been expecting you. I was just changing dressings. We managed to cut off her clothes and get her into a gown.”

  “Can I help?” How he could help, he couldn’t imagine, but he felt he should ask.

  “No, I’m through now. Tomas is seeing patients in the front, but he’ll be back in a little while to check on her. Sit down if you want to wait and talk to him.”

  A chair had been moved into the room, and Anton sat down. “I’ll wait for him. I need to find out how long her recovery’s going to take.”

  Anna left, and he looked at Tereza. She was sleeping peacefully, her chest rising and falling lightly under a white sheet. Or maybe this couldn’t be considered sleep, but a coma, or unconsciousness. Again he questioned the wisdom of sending a woman on such a mission. However, the fact that she was a real beauty might make getting information from the SS easier.

  He thought about the message he would have to compose and translate into code. “Package received damaged. Delivery system failed. Repairs may take . . .” the doctor would supply this information. “Please advise if postponement is possible.”

  Dr. Havelka came in, looking as if he’d had a long day. After all, he’d had a pre-dawn trip to a barn in the country before his usual workday started. “She’s doing remarkably well. I had to put a cast on her left leg, and I sewed up the lacerations. She has a knot on the side of her head and a concussion, in spite of the helmet she was wearing. We’re checking on her frequently.”

  “She hasn’t opened her eyes yet?”

  “No, but I’m hoping that will happen soon.”

  “Do you have any idea when she’ll be able to get around town, walking or riding a bicycle?”

  “If everything goes well, it should take six to eight weeks. The main thing now is to let her rest and let the leg heal.”

  “Is there anything I can do here?”

  “No, we have everything under control. You look like you could use a good night’s sleep.”

  Anton took a slip of paper from his pocket. “I want you to have my phone number, in case you need to get in touch with me. It would be best if you memorize it and burn this.” He had been warned not to give out his number, but circumstances had changed, and some decisions had to be made on the spur of the moment.

  Dr. Havelka nodded. Anton had no doubt he would do exactly as requested. “I’ll go then. I have more work to do tonight, and then I will get a good night’s sleep.”

  He walked home as twilight settled over the city. It was his favorite time of day, but tonight the Germans were out in force in the bars and restaurants as he made his way through Old Town. He was wearing a pair of shabby trousers and a faded shirt, both items borrowed from Erik, in an attempt to look like a workingman making his way home from the job. A German officer approached with a young Czech girl on his arm. He murmured something to the girl, and they both looked at Anton and laughed. He looked straight ahead and kept walking, grateful when he reached the sanctuary of his apartment.

  What day was it? Was this some sort of German holiday, or were they simply taking advantage of a beautiful evening? The drop had been scheduled for Wednesday, so this was still Wednesday. It seemed like a week had passed since he stood and watched helplessly as Tereza’s parachute fluttered downward. He couldn’t let himself get so tired that he wasn’t thinking clearly, that he wasn’t even sure what day it was.

  He warmed the thin soup his landlady had brought him just before he left the flat and ate it with two chunks of bread he had put away for an evening such as this. He washed the warming pot he had eaten from and the spoon, and then dried them and put them away. He went to the bookcase and took down a book of Kafka short stories and began coding the message.

  When he was done, he burned the original in the sink and washed the ashes down the drain. He went to the phone, dialed, and let it ring twice. Tyn Church, tomorrow, ten a.m. His phone rang once—message received. Now if Eliska would stay away tonight, maybe he could get a full night’s sleep. He took a shower, set the alarm for nine a.m., and went to bed.

  #

  The tapping at his door was so light, he was sure it wasn’t the Germans coming for him. He picked up the clock and took it to the window, where the sky full of stars was casting a faint light. Three-seventeen a.m. The tapping began again. He went to the door and opened it a crack. Erik was standing there, looking as if he were trying to shrink into the side of the building. He was dressed in black.

  “What the devil are you doing here?” Anton whispered. He grabbed Erik’s shirt and dragged the gangly teenager into the flat. “I told you not to come to my apartment, and coming at night is the worst thing you could do. There’s the curfew to think about, and everything looks more suspicious to the Nazis when it’s dark.”

  “I know, but I couldn’t get away during the day. My parents would have noticed, and they would have wanted an explanation.”

  “What’s happened?”

  “The Germans came to the field today. Two carloads of them. I was working in our field that’s next to the one where Tereza landed. I heard cars on the dirt road. I walked back through the trees, and I could see them. One of them climbed the tree.”

  “Were they Gestapo, or SS?” What difference did it make?

  “I couldn’t be sure, but I didn’t want to take a chance on getting any closer.”

  “No, you were right. It doesn’t matter anyway. They must have noticed the tree from the air. Or maybe that plane we heard did see our torches before we put them out.” What were the chances that he had left a shred of the parachute or its cords in the tree, working in darkness with a flashlight? And even if he had found it all, they would have searched the woods and found the torches.

  “I didn’t want to come to town at night, but I thought you should know.”

  “Did you walk all the way?”

  “No. A farmer was making deliveries to restaurants on the edge of town. He has some kind of special permit.”

  “Yes, the Germans like the restaurants to be well supplied for their eating pleasure.”

  “He dropped me off a couple of miles from here, and I walked the rest of the way.”

  “You’ll have to stay here till morning. You can leave when the streets are full of people going to work. We can’t take a chance on your being stopped.”

  Erik nodded. “I know it’s the smart thing to do. But God, my parents are going to be frantic. They suspect already that I’m involved in something, and they’re terrified.”

  “You need to invent a girlfriend.”

  “They’d be almost as upset if they thought I spent the night out with a girlfriend.”

  Anton was so tired he couldn’t think of a way to placate the parents. They’d just have to be worried. Some parents would be cheering their son on, probably even joining in his clandestine efforts. Not the case here and never would be, and he couldn’t think of anything right now to do about it.

  “Let’s have a glass of wine. I have a little I’ve been saving, and maybe it’ll help us sleep.” He took down the bottle from the top shelf of the kitchen cabinet and poured what little was left into two water glasses. It was ice wine he bought in Mikulov just before the invasion. “You can sleep on the couch . . . you did the right thing, coming to tell me. It’s just that it would have been better if you had come during the day.” Life would be less complicated if Erik’s family had a phone.

  They drank their wine in silence. Anton gave Erik an extra pillow and saw that his lanky body was squeezed onto the couch, and then went to bed himself. The wine was no help at all. There was too much to think about. The Germans knew that there had been a parachute drop, and that someone had landed in the tree. They’d assume that person had been injured if they weren’t killed, so they’d be searching every medical facility in the area. They’d undoubtedly start with the hospitals and move on to all the doctor’s offices in town. Tereza would have to be moved, but moving her was doubly risky now.