Stella hadn’t planned on sleeping. She’d taken her bath and crawled into bed to drink the rest of her tea, but she hadn’t gotten that far. The tea was on the side table and Stella was under the covers, still wearing her robe with a towel twisted around her head.
Someone had knocked, but she could only vaguely remember it. She must’ve told them to go away. So tired. Even opening her eyes was such effort. She grabbed her watch and groaned. Two. It was too late to go see the priest. Priests didn’t stay up until all hours, did they? She closed her eyes and fell back asleep before answering the question.
Knock. Knock. Knock.
“Micheline!”
“For crying out loud,” she grumbled and pulled a pillow over her towel-wrapped head.
A key rattled in the lock.
Oh, my God!
Stella sat bolt upright and spotted her wig lying on the floor. She grabbed it and stuffed it under the blankets. “Who is it?” Her voice came out hoarse and low.
The doorknob turned and Stella quickly checked the towel in the mirror on the dressing table. In place. Hair hidden.
“I’m not decent,” she called out and jumped back in bed.
“Micheline?”
The door opened and Ludwik peeked in through the crack. “Are you all right in there?”
She smoothed the covers. “Come in, Ludwik. I fell asleep.”
Ludwik crept into the darkened room like she might scream or accuse him of something. “Micheline, how are you?”
“Fine. Why do you keep asking that?” She frowned as she said it. Her voice sounded terrible and her throat scratchy. She must’ve been snoring. So embarrassing.
“It’s just that you didn’t come down,” he said.
“I’m sorry if I was snoring.” She cleared her throat and took a big gulp of cold tea, thankful for the gloom so he couldn’t see her makeup-free face.
“I don’t know if you were snoring. You are well, yes?”
“Yes. I’m incredibly tired but fine. Kind of you to check on me.”
“Would you like a tray?”
“Now?”
Ludwik tilted his head, not unlike Cornelia, except he didn’t try to topple over. “You should eat if you are unwell.”
“I’m not unwell.” She cleared her throat again. “I only need a good night’s sleep.”
His head tilted further. “Micheline, it’s nearly two.”
“In the morning?”
“The afternoon. We were worried. You are always an early riser.”
She looked at the window and bright light was shining between the heavy shades. “It’s tomorrow?”
He smiled. “It’s today. You slept a long time. Should I call a doctor?”
“I don’t need a doctor,” said Stella. “I guess I was tired.”
She was still tired. Dog tired as the men at the brewery would’ve said. What was wrong with her? She felt fine, except her eyes wanted to close.
“Maybe you should stay in bed,” Ludwik suggested.
“I wish I could, but I’ve got furniture to see. People are waiting.”
He began to wring his hands and said, “I have to tell you that we found the culprit.”
“Culprit?” She swung her feet from under the covers, holding her towel in place.
“The person who broke into your room.”
“Oh, that.” She yawned. “I’d forgotten.”
Ludwik stuck a finger in the pocket of his waistcoat and fished out the ring. He placed it on her dressing table, where it managed to look gaudier than ever, even in the dim light.
“That’s a relief. My company. The insurance. It would’ve been difficult.”
“We are very sorry and we want you to know that it’s been taken care of.”
Stella widened her eyes and said, “Who was it?”
He made a face. “That is difficult.”
“Why?”
Ludwik told her and it was difficult. The hotel believed Marga was the one who’d gotten a key from housekeeping and gone into her room. She’d been seen in the head of housekeeping’s office and on Stella’s floor. Marga denied it, so the politie were called and they searched the flat she shared with Ester. The ring was found in Ester’s belongings. The girl was hysterical, decrying her innocence. Marga, on the other hand, didn’t look at all surprised but did a good deal of crying, which didn’t surprise anyone. Marga was always a crier.
“Marga put the ring in Ester’s things, so she would be blamed?” Stella asked. “What kind of girl is she?”
“The stupid kind,” he said. “We have fired them both and you will have to decide whether or not to press charges.”
This was the last thing Stella needed. Her mind was foggy and she should’ve been out the door six hours ago, maybe seven. Uncle Josiah would be going out of his mind.
“I don’t want to press charges. It would be unkind with what is going to happen,” she said.
“You mean with them coming.”
“Yes, and nobody knows what is going to happen. There’s no need to make it worse.”
“You know that Ester and Marga are Jews?” asked Ludwik surprised.
“I had heard that,” said Stella.
“They shouldn’t have made an enemy of you.” He hesitated and then said, “I’ve heard things about how you do business.”
“I know. Madam Milla told me, but you shouldn’t believe all you hear.”
“Some things you should believe and be thankful for.”
“Ludwik, are you Jewish?” she asked.
He retreated to the door as if pushed by a stiff wind. “My grandmother was.”
One fourth. Will they hate him for that much?
“No one needs to know that.”
“I’ve heard things about Germany. When they come, there will be questions?”
“Yes. Don’t tell anyone. You will be all right,” said Stella. “This isn’t Poland.”
“If it was Poland?”
“You don’t want to know.” She stood up, holding her robe tightly closed, and Ludwik opened the door to leave. “About Ester,” she said.
“What about her?” he asked.
“You don’t think Ester had anything to do with coming in here and stealing from me, do you?”
Ludwik shook his head sadly. “No, I don’t. Jan Bikker was talking to Marga. He tried to get her to help him get in your room, but Ester avoided him. He scares her.”
She’s the smart one.
“I know. Michel told me before his attack,” said Stella. “Do you think Marga will tell the truth to save Ester’s job?”
“No. I had hoped to protect them when they came, but now I can’t.”
“Don’t fire Ester. It’s not her fault.”
“She was caught with the ring, Micheline,” said Ludwik. “It’s done.”
“Then undo it.”
“It’s not up to me.”
“Who is it up to?” Stella asked.
“Mr. De Jong, the manager, but he won’t be receptive. This is a stain on the hotel,” said Ludwik, wringing his hands harder.
“There’s no stain as far as I’m concerned,” said Stella assuming the full dignity of Micheline Dubois despite feeling like she wanted to curl up in her mother’s lap and be coddled for the whole day. “Is he in?”
“I’m afraid not. He has a cold.”
“Who can I speak to then?” she asked.
“Mr. Elek is in charge, but he won’t change Mr. De Jong’s decision,” said Ludwik.
I bet he will.
“Let me talk to him,” said Stella. “I’m a good guest and it was my ring. That should count for something.”
“I don’t know. Maybe.”
There’s no maybe about it.
Stella stepped on the elevator and Michel gave her a hard look. “You look worse than me and I had a heart attack yesterday.”
“Oh, you did not, you old faker,” she said with a yawn.
He chuckled and closed the door. “I got time off and my wife made my favorite soup. I should have heart attacks more often.”
“Don’t push it.” Stella leaned on the wall and closed her eyes.
“Are you sure you should be up?”
“I have things to do.”
“With your eyes closed?”
“My company isn’t picky,” she said.
He stopped the elevator on the ground floor and said softly, “I wish you could’ve gone home.”
She touched his sleeve. “You are the sweetest man, but I’ll be fine. Everything will be fine. Which way to Mr. De Jong’s office?”
He gave her directions and asked, “Are you complaining about the incident with the ring?”
“In a manner of speaking.”
“He’s out sick,” said Michel. “You’ll have to wait.”
“No waiting. I’ll be talking to Mr. Elek.”
“He’s more difficult than Mr. De Jong. A real stickler for the rules.”
Her eyebrows went up under the frizz of her wig. “Oh, really?”
“What are you thinking, Micheline?”
“Only that Ester needs her job,” said Stella. “Wish me luck.”
“Um…good luck. You’re going to need it.”
She winked at him. “No, I’m not.”
Stella left the operator looking confused and walked past the front desk. Uncle Josiah wasn’t there flirting with the clerk, another pretty girl or anywhere in the lobby thankfully. She’d deal with him later. One problem at a time.
She went through the bowels of the Hotel Krasnapolsky, encountering no one on the way, which was unusual, but the hotel had emptied out as the invasion grew nearer with people only staying a day or so on their way through to what they hoped was safety. Stella suspected that the staff was, like Ludwik, catching up on sleep. There wouldn’t be much of that in the coming weeks and she half expected to find Mr. Elek stretched out on his former secretary’s desk catching a few Zs, but the middle office was empty as before with both Mr. De Jong’s and Mr. Elek’s doors closed.
“Mr. Elek,” she called out and knocked on his door.
“Come in!”
She opened the door to find an office so neat it was a wonder anyone worked in there let alone a man. Stella’s experience with men and offices was extensive. Her father, an exacting man if there ever was one, left a terrible mess in his office daily. It took two secretaries to clean up after him and it was the same with Uncle Nicolai and the rest of the Bled executive staff. The family took away Uncle Josiah’s office, but that was mainly because it wasn’t used for brewery business at all, rather things that ought not be discussed in polite company. It was a mess though and the earl was no better. Aggie, his wife, cleaned up after him. Park-Welles was neat as a pin, but she hardly considered him a man. He was more robot than anything.
Stella went to stand in front of the desk, but Mr. Elek didn’t look up immediately. He stayed hunched over a huge ledger with rows of neat figures written in a copperplate hand with a Hamann Manus calculator sitting on the desk next to him. The brewery accountant had a similar machine and he’d tried to teach Stella to use it, but the thing was full of levers and pointers and such an unwieldy thing she couldn’t comprehend it any more than Russian and the poor accountant had to tell her father she was unteachable. Stella had to scrub wort kettles for a month as a punishment and the accountant was given a better parking space for putting up with her. Rather unfair in Stella’s opinion, but she had no say in the matter.
“Did you—” Mr. Elek looked up and jerked in surprise. “Oh, I thought you were someone else.” He jumped up to offer her a chair. “Please sit down. The chef was coming and I had the figures to do.”
Stella sat down and smiled. Discombobulated. That was helpful. “It’s quite all right. I only wanted to speak with you about our situation.”
He swallowed hard and then sat down to look at her with that handsome face of his. “Our situation?”
What in the world do you see in Anna?
“The theft in my room,” she said pleasantly and watched him shift in his seat. “I don’t think the outcome is quite what I had in mind.”
“You were told…what happened?” he asked.
“I was.”
“Madame Dubois—”
“Micheline,” she said.
He nodded and smiled. “Micheline, we believe we found the culprit and she has been dismissed. You’re welcome to speak to our witnesses, if you like.”
“Culprit?”
His forehead creased and he became adorable rather than merely handsome. Not many perfect-looking men could do that. Nicky couldn’t. “Yes. What are you getting at?”
“You think that Marga Kübler broke into my room and stole a ring,” she said.
“We do and we have quite a bit of evidence to that effect, including the ring. Do you wish to press charges?”
“No, I don’t,” said Stella, settling into her chair comfortably while he got more and more uncomfortable. “My point is that you have fired two people when only one committed the crime.”
Mr. Elek blew out a breath and loosened up. “The ring was found in Ester’s things.”
“Put there by Marga, undoubtedly because she thought no one would look in her friend’s things.”
He nodded. “Probably.”
“So, you admit Ester had nothing to do with it?”
“That’s what we think, but she can’t prove it.”
“Mr. Elek—”
“Please, call me Willem.” He smiled at her with genuine warmth and Stella thought that Anna must be plum out of her mind to choose Jan Bikker over the man behind that desk.
“Willem, it’s very hard to prove one’s innocence, don’t you think?”
“I suppose it is, but we can’t have a reputation for keeping staff that steal from our guests,” he said.
“You can have a reputation for being fair and doing what is right, especially at this time.”
He frowned, making himself adorable once again. “At this time?”
Stella lowered her eyelids to half-mast just the way her grandmother did when she was about to convince you that you were a terrible person who had done nothing but disappoint her. It worked on everyone but Uncle Josiah. He thought it was funny. “Ester is a Jew. Where else do you think she’ll get a job with the Nazis coming any day now?”
“Oh, I…didn’t know that was common knowledge,” said Willem, back to being flustered.
“A lot of things aren’t common knowledge, but that doesn’t mean they aren’t known.”
The man squirmed exactly the way Stella’s father did when Grandmother confronted him on not going to mass or being indifferent to her charitable efforts. “What do you…I don’t know what…”
“Willem, you have a chance to do the right thing here. I would like you to do it.”
“I can’t change Mr. De Jong’s decision,” he said.
Stella crossed her arms and then her legs. “I think you can and you should.”
“Why do you care so much about this girl? Do you even know her?”
“I know she’s young and vulnerable. Ester’s worst crime is having a terrible friend and I believe she deserves a second chance and a safe haven,” said Stella. “I’d hate to think I was the cause of her ruin when I could do something to stop it so here I am.”
“We didn’t ruin her,” he said.
“What do you think is going to happen when they come? Everything will just go on as they have? Let me assure you that is not going to happen and I think you of all people know that.”
“Me? Why would I know anything about it?” Willem couldn’t keep his hands still. They fluttered around the desk, touching everything and picking up nothing.
“Think of the opportunity you have here in this hotel, Willem. Think of who you could help as you have been helped.”
He stared at her, his face colorless. She could see his mind working and questioning. Did she know? How? What should he do? She’d done the same thing plenty, but hopefully she was better at covering it.
“I can’t…”
“The fact that you are sitting behind that desk says you can. If properly motivated, that is,” she said. “Am I properly motivating you, Willem Elek?”
His mouth moved, but he didn’t speak.
“Never choose wrong when you can choose right. Let’s choose right.”
“By doing what?”
Stella stood up, looked out at the empty office, and then closed the door. “Ester Isaksohn could become Martina Strik, for instance.”
“How would I—”
“Or Anna Bikker,” said Stella, leaning on the door. “That’s a nice name.”
“Are you…”
“No. I’m asking you not to fire an innocent girl days before an invasion by the Nazis of all people. I think you can help her and I want you to do it.”
“And if I don’t?”
Channeling her grandmother, Stella said, “I will be gravely disappointed but not as disappointed as you will be in yourself.” She opened the door and stepped out before saying. “Willem, do the right thing. It’s not something you’ll regret.”
He slumped back in his chair the way her father did and sighed. “Micheline, you are not a regular businesswoman, just out to make money.”
“Let’s just keep that under our hats, shall we? I wouldn’t want to get a reputation for being soft. How could I ever drive another hard bargain?”
Willem smiled and returned to adorable. “No one would accuse you of not driving a hard bargain.”
“I do the right thing whenever possible,” she said.
“I had heard that.”
“Good. I’m glad to hear it.” That wasn’t exactly true. Stella was starting to think there wasn’t anyone who didn’t know about her. She said goodbye and closed the door on a young man who now had something more important to do than just accounts.
“Micheline!” Dirk rushed over to her from behind the bar. “We were very worried about you.”
“I’m sorry to get everyone upset,” Stella said. “I overslept.”
The café manager looked her over and then insisted on feeling her forehead. “You are a touch warm.”
“I’m a touch exhausted. I would love some coffee.”
“Yes, yes, of course.” Dirk led her to her usual table and rushed off to get a coffee and an omelet. He said she needed eggs for the strength. Stella wasn’t aware that eggs had strength-giving properties, but there was no talking Dirk out of it, so she agreed. As long as it came with coffee, she’d have eaten practically anything.
While she waited, she gazed out at the square, yawning and hopefully not looking terribly interested as her eyes roamed around looking for Mussert with the torn pocket, but the square was mostly empty. A few people rushed here and there, looking up at the sky and then hunching over to rush off.
Dirk came back with a large cup and her own pretty little pot. “Newspaper?” he offered.
“Is the news all bad?”
“Are you German?”
“Definitely not.”
“Then it’s bad.”
She held out her hand. “I guess I’d better be informed.”
He handed her the paper and asked, “Will you get to go home soon to be with your family?”
“I hope so,” she said. “I’m praying for no more telegrams.”
He laughed and went to greet a couple who came in for tea. She poured a cup of coffee and gave herself an obscene amount of cream before opening the paper. The headlines were all bad with everything from questioning whether Queen Wilhelmina should leave the country and where she would go if she did to suspending football for fear of attack. She sipped her coffee and felt the warmth spread through her hoping that it would wake her up, but it only made her feel anxious.
“Micheline Dubois! You caused all kinds of fuss today.”
Oh, no.
Stella lowered the paper to find Uncle Josiah leaning on the chair opposite with casual indifference. His eyes were anything but.
“Did I?”
“The whole staff was thinking you’d had a fit in your room or gone apoplectic,” said Uncle Josiah with a laugh.
“I overslept. That’s all.”
His fingers drummed on the chair and she reluctantly asked him to sit down. She really hadn’t had enough coffee yet.
“Don’t mind if I do.” He sat down and Dirk came over with Stella’s omelet.
“Can I get you some coffee, Josiah?” Dirk asked.
“And a little hair of the dog, if you don’t mind. It was a late night.”
Dirk laughed. “I heard.” And he went off to find whatever would ease the hangover that Uncle Josiah didn’t have. Stella knew him too well to think he’d been drinking like he normally would.
He leaned back in his chair and stretched out his long legs, crossing them at the ankles and put his hands behind his head. “What do you think you’re doing?”
“Hello, sweetheart,” said Stella sarcastically. “How are you? I was worried you like the hotel staff. People that aren’t blood related.”
“People that don’t know that you’re half the age you appear to be,” he said, smiling broadly.
“Not half. How old do you think I am?”
“Forty?”
I’m getting too good at this makeup.
“I am not forty, Mr. Bled,” said Stella as Dirk came up with a cup and a bottle of Jameson’s. The café manager’s eyes went wide and he quickly said, “Micheline is very tired.”
Uncle Josiah laughed and said, “I didn’t mean to offend you. I’m not seeing straight. Too much of that good Jenever that you turned me on to, Dirk.”
“I’m glad you liked it.” Dirk looked up and then rushed off to greet more customers. He was alone in the café since Marga and Ester had been fired.
“I repeat,” said Uncle Josiah once Dirk was out of earshot. “What do you think you’re doing?”
“Having coffee and an omelet, although I can’t tell you why I’m having an omelet. I’ve never been less hungry in my life.”
“Don’t change the subject. I’m serious.”
“Seriously crazy if you think I’m not doing my best.” Stella forked a bite of omelet and ate it with gusto.
Uncle Josiah sat up straight and poured a small amount of whiskey in his cup. “I know that, sweetheart, but I’ve been going out of my mind.”
“I’m sure.”
“I came to your room, but you didn’t answer.”
“That was you? Are you crazy?”
“We’ve established that I am. Certified. Have you seen them? How are they? How is she? What did she say? Can you do it?”
Stella yawned and said, “Please calm yourself. Everything’s fine.”
“Is it? You’ve told me nothing.”
“I’m figuring it out.”
“How? By lying in bed?” he asked.
“Do you want to do this? ‘Cause I’ll hand it over and good luck to you,” said Stella while smiling at her furious uncle who could barely contain himself.
“I can’t do it.”
“Then leave me alone. I will figure it out.”
“Sweetheart…is she all right?”
His eyes pleaded with her and her heart twisted a little. She wished her grandmother could see him now. She would wonder who this person was, wearing a Josiah Bled suit and worrying about people’s welfare. “She’s fine, but I don’t think the father is in great shape.”
“He hasn’t been for a long time,” he said, and she gave him a look. “Oh, I see. So, it’s really not good.”
“Correct.”
“Have you gotten anywhere?”
“I have, but you can’t press me. This isn’t easily done and it isn’t fast.”
“Then why were you wasting time on some thieving waitress?”
“I was choosing to do right when it was easier to do wrong.”
He grimaced. “Don’t be using Florence against me. Our situation is desperate.”
“So is the waitress’,” she said.
He made a grumbling noise in his throat.
“You would’ve done the same, if you weren’t out of your mind.”
“I doubt it.”
“I don’t,” she said before letting out a huge yawn. “But it’s sorted now.”
He poured himself some of her coffee with a grin at her complaints and Dirk came up to replace the pot with a fresh one. “Do you need anything else, Micheline?”
“I’ll just have a little more coffee and be on my way,” she said. “I’ve got furniture to see and friends to meet.”
“Don’t tire yourself out,” said Dirk.
She started to open her handbag, but Uncle Josiah said, “Put it on my tab. She’s good company,” he grinned, “for a Belgian.”
“Josiah.” Dirk laughed. “He’s joking, Micheline.”
“I am not. Remind me to tell you about the time I was arrested in Antwerp.”
“Is there any city you haven’t been arrested in, Mr. Bled?” Stella asked.
“I’ll have to get back to you on that, Micheline Dubois, but I can reiterate that you are good company.”
Stella finished her coffee and stood up. “On that cheering note, I’m off. Have a lovely day, gentlemen, and Mr. Bled—”
“Josiah,” he said quickly.
“Josiah, try not to get into trouble. It sounds like you find it wherever you go.”
“That’s about the size of it.” He grinned at her and then turned to Dirk. “Now about Antwerp.”