Elsa hung up the phone, looking shocked.
“That Nazi bitch!” she said, shaking with anger.
Bridget put down her coffee, alarmed.
“What did she say?”
Elsa made a visible effort to control herself. They had been discussing Hanne’s disappearance over coffee for over an hour and still couldn’t think of any leads when Elsa decided to put in another call to the Kramer household. The pretext was Elsa’s search for a cleaning woman and her desire to hire Hanne for the job.
”She called Hanne ‘eine schmutzige Jude’.”
“Why?”
“She said Hanne was a thief,” Elsa said. “She accused her of stealing a toy belonging to her little girl.”
“That’s absurd.”
“They fired her.”
Bridget had never seen Elsa so angry. She reminded herself that it was going to take a clear head to solve the problem of Hanne’s whereabouts and expressions of anger against the Kramers were not going to help.
“When did this happen?” Bridget asked.
“Tuesday. Dr. Kramer drove her home.”
“So Dr Kramer left Hanne at her flat, if I understand correctly.”
“We don’t know that for sure, Bridget,” Elsa said. “All we know is that the last person to see Hanne was Dr Kramer.”
“Elsa, you need to go to the police and report her missing. I’ll talk to Peter to see what we can do.”
Bernie was parked down the road from the Kramer house in a copse of trees. All was quiet on the street. He pulled a thermos from the front seat and poured himself a cup of tea. He heard the noise of a door slamming shut coming from the Kramer house. He picked up his binoculars and saw the German Legation car leave the house with Dr Kramer in the back. There was no sign of Hanne, so he decided to follow Dr Kramer’s car to see where it went.
The car drove into town and left Kramer at the German Legation press office. Bernie gave up the surveillance on Kramer and returned to the house in Stora Essingen. He parked near the lane leading to the Kramer backyard and took off on foot. The snow drifts had almost disappeared, but there was still a lot of water on the road. He approached the house in the usual way, stepping close to the first-floor windows.
He observed Wilhelma with Heidi in the living room downstairs. He walked around the house, peeking in through the windows. He caught Eva Kramer putting on lipstick in a downstairs washroom, but could find no evidence to show that Hanne was being held hostage. He left muddy tracks in the snow as he returned to his car.
“I came yesterday and everything was in its place,” Elsa said as she opened the door to Hanne’s flat.
She stepped into the front hall with its pegs for coats and umbrellas, followed by two Swedish police detectives.
“Her mail is on the table,” Carlstrom said. “Did you bring it in, Mrs Ansell?”
“Yes, I came by looking for Hanne yesterday.”
“Does she have a boyfriend?” Carlstrom asked.
“No, sir. Not that I know of.”
Detective Carlstrom went into the bedroom searching for clues while his partner, Detective Norden, searched the kitchen. Elsa followed Carlstrom into the bedroom.
“She lives very frugally,” Elsa said, looking at the single bed and the books in German on the bedside table. “Hanne likes to read, detective.”
“Yes, I was about to say the same thing. How long have you known her?”
“Forever, we grew up together in Vienna.”
“When did she start working for Dr Kramer?”
“Last year.”
Carlstrom threw open the closet doors and looked at Hanne’s clothes.
“Have you noticed any of her clothes missing?”
Elsa came over and poked through several skirts, dresses, and blouses hanging in the closet before shaking her head.
“If she had gone on a trip, she would have taken her suitcase, detective. Her toiletry bag is in the bathroom.”
It was past midnight and far too late to be calling on Anders Berger at home, but Peter felt he had no choice. He knocked softly on the door. He heard movement inside and then Anders appeared at the door. He was fully dressed and looked like he had been working.
“Peter? What are you doing here?”
“It’s a bit of an emergency, Anders. Can I come in?”
“Of course, please. Let me offer you a drink.”
“Who is it, Anders?” Britta called from the bedroom.
Anders turned to look at his wife, who appeared in the hall in her nightgown. Peter felt bad about waking her.
“It’s all right, Britta,” Anders assured her, “this is Peter Faye. He’s been helping us in our search for Rolf.”
Britta’s face brightened immediately.
“I can’t thank you enough, Mr Faye.”
“My pleasure, Mrs Berger, and I do apologize for calling so late,” Peter said, accepting a glass of aquavit from Anders.
“How is it going, your search?” Peter asked.
“Anders has just returned from Germany,” Britta said. “We think we are making progress.”
“That’s encouraging.”
“Well, it certainly wasn’t very encouraging at first,” Anders said. “Bernadotte and I were there for three days and got nowhere. We were just leaving Germany when Schellenberg himself intervened.”
Peter nodded. He knew all about Walter Schellenberg.
“The SD has agreed to regroup the Scandinavian prisoners at Neuengamme,” Anders continued. “They’re giving us a hand with the prisoner lists.”
“Keep at it, that’s my advice. Time is running out and the Russians will be in Berlin soon. Then there will be complete chaos in all the camps.”
“We’re doing the best we can, Mr Faye,” Britta said, “but it takes so much time.”
“It is very kind of you to ask about Rolf,” Anders said quietly, “but I know that is not why you are here. You mentioned an emergency.”
“You know Dr Kramer?”
“Oh, yes, the man who ran us off the road into the canal. How can I forget?”
“His cleaning woman has gone missing. Her name is Hanne Gabor. She’s Austrian. She disappeared on Tuesday after Dr Kramer took her home.”
Anders raised an eyebrow.
“And you have a special interest in her?”
“I do. She is a close friend of one of our employees. Her friends have tried to find her without any success. The police are involved. No one has seen her since Kramer drove her home. We’re afraid Kramer and the Gestapo are holding her and may force her onto a plane to Berlin.”
“Why would they do that?” Anders asked.
“Kramer works for German intelligence. Hanne was seen entering the German Legation on Tuesday. We don’t know whether Kramer drove her home afterwards, but that is what his wife is saying. We think the Gestapo may have grabbed her. That is all I can tell you.”
“I understand,” Anders said. “Of course, I will help if I can. What do you want me to do?”
Peter produced a small photograph of Hanne that Bridget had gotten from Elsa. Bernie had already made several copies for the police.
“Put her picture in the paper,” Peter said, handing the photograph to him, “and ask the public to call the police if they see her.”
Anders looked at the picture.
“I will talk to my boss,” he said finally. “How about a title like: ‘Cleaning woman for high-ranking German officer disappears’? Would that work for you?”
“That would be perfect,” Peter said.
Peter drank his aquavit and got up to leave.
“Call me if you need anything else. Thanks, Anders, Britta. Good night.”
“Good night, Peter,” Anders said, opening the door.
In a tiny hideaway in the woods, Hanne awakened suddenly on a horsehair mattress, feeling groggy from the drugs she has been given. Inside the moss hut, her head almost touched the ceiling. It was less a hut for humans than a cage for animals and it smelled of the latter. A plate of food had been pushed through the pet flap in the locked door, along with a handful of snowflakes.
On her hands and knees, she moved to look through the flap, hoping to see her jailor, but all she could see was a snowbank and a lighted area in the general gloom. She returned to the mattress and pulled a sleeping bag over her head.