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Authors: Harold Robbins

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BOOK: Goodbye, Janette
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He was silent.

“But people survive—even if it means they have to learn to live with a new order,” she continued.

He nodded. “That is true. The circles of power are far beyond us. We must learn to live with them, not them with us.”

There was a knock at the door. The sergeant came into the room. “The general is free now. He asks that you bring Monsieur de la Beauville to his study.”

He followed her through the bare hall to another room. She paused, knocking on the door and then opening it without waiting for a reply.

General von Brenner was a much younger man than he had expected. At most he was no older than Maurice himself, who was thirty-seven. He did not offer the usual salute; instead he held out his hand. “Monsieur de la Beauville. I have been looking forward to meeting with you.” His French was tinged with a heavy German accent.

Maurice replied with his French-tinged German. “It is my honor, General.”

The two men stared at each other; then suddenly the general grinned. “My French is as bad as your German.”

Maurice laughed. “Not quite.”

“Do you speak English?”

“Yes.”

“Then suppose we converse in that language. Then neither of us has to feel embarrassed. And if we have any problems in understanding each other, Anna, here, can help us out.”

“Agreed,” Maurice answered in English.

“Now to work,” the general said. “The French Industrial Board has assigned you to work with me so that we may better mobilize industry into the war effort against our mutual enemy. Our first priority of course will be heavy industry that can be used to manufacture weapons and equipment.”

“That, too, was my understanding, and with your permission I have already prepared a number of files which at this very moment are on their way here by special couriers. I am at your disposal to begin work with them immediately.”

***

But in the course of the three years they were to work together during the occupation, both saw other opportunities begin to develop. Non-war-related businesses that were begging to be taken over, because under the new order there were many owners who were not acceptable. A large, well-known vineyard, a company that bottled natural mineral waters, and another company in the south that manufactured bases for perfumes and cosmetics. All at bargain prices, low cash and liberal exit visas for the former owners, which enabled them to seek freedom elsewhere. Since these companies’ true ownership was always hidden by the laws affecting French
sociétés
anonymes
, there was never an overt record of the real proprietors. Still, when decisions regarding the companies had to be made, the owner had to reveal himself, if only within his companies. To forestall any criticism, Wolfgang placed the management of record in Anna’s name. All were quiet companies, which did little business during the war. It was for the postwar period that Wolfgang had acquired them—for a time when the need for their products and their market would expand.

It was slightly more than two years later on a hot humid day in the summer of 1943 that Wolfgang returned from a meeting at H.Q. West. She saw that he was upset, but kept silent until he was ready to talk. That did not happen until after dinner as they sat in the study and he smoked his cigar and sipped his coffee.

“I’m called back to Berlin,” he said heavily.

She looked at him. “For how long?”

“Permanently,” he said. “My job here is finished. There are production problems in the Fatherland they want me to look into.”

She was silent for a moment. “I’ll begin packing immediately.”

“No.” His voice was abrupt. “You’re not coming with me.”

She looked at him without speaking.

“I can’t bring you to Germany,” he said awkwardly. “My family—”

“I understand,” she said quickly. She took a deep breath then forced a smile. “I have no complaints. At first it was only for six weeks, remember?”

“It is not over,” he said. “I have plans.”

“I don’t want you to endanger yourself,” she said.

“There will be no danger,” he answered. “I have asked Maurice to join us at breakfast tomorrow and I will explain them all to you.”

She was silent for a long moment. “When do you have to leave?”

“Friday.”

She looked deep into his eyes. “This is Tuesday,” she said, rising. “Come to bed. We have not much time left.”

***

Wolfgang waited until the maid had cleared the breakfast dishes and left the room before he spoke. Maurice and Anna sat around the small table. “Germany has lost the war,” he said flatly.

Neither of them spoke. He continued. “War is like business. When you stop going forward, you lose momentum. Then you lose control. The Führer made a critical error. Instead of pressing forward across the Channel to England, he turned toward Russia. At that point it was all over.”

The others were still silent. “Now it’s only a question of time and we must make plans. There will be many opportunities after the war and it will be up to us to take advantage of them.” He looked at Maurice. “We will begin with you. If we want to keep the properties we have acquired here in France you will have to change sides. Cross the Channel and join the Gaullists.”

“Impossible!” Maurice protested. “They will shoot me on sight.”

“Not if you follow my plan. I will make available to you certain information that will be invaluable to the Allies. Information on manufacturing and production facilities that they have not as yet learned about. You will go to your uncle, the marquis, whose reputation is unassailable and explain to him that you have been secretly working with us to gain access to this information. Now that you have it, you need his help to get it across the Channel. I’m sure that he has contacts, and with my help, I can guarantee you safe passage across the Channel within a month.”

Maurice hesitated. “It will be dangerous.”

“It will be more dangerous to remain. When the French return you will be shot as a traitor and collaborationist.”

Maurice was silent.

Wolfgang turned to Anna. “For many years my family has owned a small townhouse in Geneva. I have already secured a Swiss residency visa for you to work there as my housekeeper, and for Janette. You will remain here for about a month after I leave. Then you will move to Switzerland. Schwebel will remain here with you to help organize the necessary files and papers that you are to take with you, then, acting as your chauffer, he will drive you to Geneva. The excuse will be that Janette is ill and the doctors have advised her to recuperate in the Alps. When you are safely in the house there, he will return to Germany to join me.”

Anna looked at him. “And what will you be doing all that time?”

“I will be making plans to get my family out of Germany. Because of my position, we will all be targets for Allied vengeance.”

“Where will they go?”

“There are several countries in South America which offer us shelter. For a fee, of course. But that is only money.”

“And what will happen to you?”

“As soon as I see them safely away, I will join you in Geneva.”

She was silent for a moment. “There is no other way?”

He shook his head. “No other way. The end may come in a year, two years, maybe even three. But it will come, believe me.”

They were all silent for a moment, each, with his own thoughts. “
Merde!
” Maurice exclaimed suddenly. He looked at Wolfgang. “I had foolish dreams of one day being a rich man.”

Wolfgang smiled. “Do as I say and you still may be a rich man.”

After Maurice had gone. Wolfgang got to his feet. “Come to my study with me.”

She followed him up to the small room, which he used as his private study. He closed the door and locked it behind him. “What I am about to show you, no one else in the world knows, neither Maurice nor Schwebel, not even my family. No one. Just me. And now, you.”

She watched silently while he moved his chair from behind the desk and lifted the rug from the floor beneath it. His hand searched for a wooden slat on the floor, and finding it, pressed it. A small trapdoor, a little more than a foot wide, sprang up. He reached inside and took out what looked like a tin safe-deposit box and placed it on the table. He lifted the latch, opened it, and beckoned to her. “Look.”

She walked to the desk and, standing beside him, looked down. The box was filled with shining gold coins. She was speechless.

His face was serious. “Gold louis. There are forty boxes like this here. One hundred thousand in all.”

Her breath rushed from her. “My God! I had no idea.” She looked at him. “How—?”

“No questions,” he answered. “I have them. That’s all that matters. And you’re going to bring them to Switzerland.”

“How?” she asked. “You know all the luggage is searched when we cross the border.”

“I thought of that,” he smiled. He gestured to her, and she followed him to the window. He pointed to the Mercedes limousine standing in the courtyard. “It looks like just any other car, doesn’t it?”

She nodded.

“It’s not,” he said. “The side panels around the doors and sides are hollow and lined with soundproofing material so that the coins will not rattle and make noise. I had it specially built.”

“What if the men who built it talk?”

“They won’t talk,” he said. “They were Jews. And they are long since gone.”

“Dead?”

He didn’t answer. He went back to the desk and placed the box back in the trap, then covered it again with the rug and moved the chair back into place.

He sat down in the chair. “You will have to transfer it alone. I will show you how to gain access to the panels. But no one must see you do it. No one. Your life and your daughter’s will be worth nothing if you are seen. I do not have to explain what people will do for that kind of money.”

She nodded. Murder had been committed for far less.

“You will have to arrange at least one or two hours each night to be alone in the house. It does not all have to be done in one night. You have a month. When it is all in place you will be ready to leave.”

“Will Schwebel be the only one going with me?”

“No. There will be another man with him. An ex-paratrooper. Tough and a trained killer. If there is any real trouble he knows how to handle it.”

“And what do I do with it when I get there?”

“Rent a numbered box at one of the Swiss banks. Then remove the gold in the same way you placed it there. A little at a time. When the car is empty, Schwebel and his assistant will then drive the car to me in Germany.”

She sank into a chair. “For the first time, I am frightened.”

He looked at her steadily. “So am I,” he said heavily. “But we have no choice. There is nothing else we can do if we want to have any life together after this is over.”

***

Not once in all the time they had been together had he ever told her that he loved her—not even when his passion burst and flooded her with his seed did he ever do more than groan, trembling in the grip of his ecstasy until she feared that the crush of his body would thrust its way deep into her womb. And even now, as they stood in the doorway of the small French house, the gray of morning spilling through the open door, he was still erect and reserved.

Politely he leaned forward and kissed her formally on both cheeks. “Be careful,” he said.

“I will.” She nodded.

Then he turned to Janette, who had been standing next to her mother, her eyes wide, and picked her up in his arms. He kissed the child’s forehead, then her mouth. “
Auf Wiedersehen, Liebchen,
” he said. “Be a good girl and do as your mother tells you.”

The child nodded. “Yes, Papa General.”

He smiled and gave her to her mother. “I will see you soon,” he said, then turned and marched out the door, getting into the car that was to drive him to the train without looking back.

Anna waited until the car left the driveway before closing the door and turning back into the house. She put the child down.

“Mama?”

Anna looked down at her.

“Will Papa General come back?”

Anna was surprised. “What makes you ask that?”

“Nana says that he is going and that Monsieur Maurice is going to be the new papa.”

“Nana is stupid,” Anna said. “She does not know what she is saying.”

“But Nana said that Papa General is going to Germany, and that we can’t go with him. And now, Monsieur Maurice is going to be in charge.”

“Nana is wrong. When Papa General is away I am in charge. No one else. Not Monsieur Maurice, not anyone.”

“Then Papa General is coming back,” Janette said.

Anna hesitated a moment, then nodded. “Yes, he will come back. And you can tell stupid Nana that.”

Two hours later when Schwebel returned from the train station, she called him upstairs into the general’s study and closed the door. She sat in the chair behind the desk. “I think we may have a problem.”

He was silent, waiting for her to speak further.

“The child’s nurse. She talks too much. She has already told the child that the general will not return. If she talks to the child, who knows who else she might be talking with?”

Schwebel nodded.

“A word in the wrong place could endanger the general’s plans,” she said.

“I will take care of the matter, Countess,” he said.

She looked up at him in surprise. It was the first time he had ever addressed her by title. Until now it had always been Frau Pojarska.

There was no change in the expression on his face. “Is there anything else, Countess?”

“Nothing else,” she said, shaking her head. “Thank you, Johann.”

He bowed politely and left the room. Two days later the nanny had her day off. She never returned to work.

***

Maurice’s voice was guarded on the telephone. “I must see you.”

It had been three weeks since Wolfgang had left Paris and this was the first time she had heard from him in all that time. “I am here,” she said simply.

“You don’t understand,” he said. “I may be under surveillance. Now that I have made my overtures I do not dare come to your place.”

“Can’t we discuss it on the telephone?”

BOOK: Goodbye, Janette
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