“I’m working on it.” Staffeldt’s brow creased.
The bookstore was sheltering Jews? “How many in the family?” Else asked.
“Five, with three children under four.” He frowned in the direction of the increasing wails. “They have no money.”
“I know of a place. They can take them to Sweden. I could escort them to the house.”
Staffeldt’s gaze flew to her. “When could you go?”
“Right now if you’d like.”
“Very much.” He opened a door and let Else in.
Almost two dozen people camped inside, and Else gasped. “Oh my.”
“We’ve become a collecting point, arranging transport. I’m glad we can help in some small way.”
“It’s a big way. Very big. Would you introduce me?”
“No real names.” He picked his way around legs and blankets and led her to a dark-haired couple in their twenties. The wife rocked a bawling infant, and a toddler boy curled by her side, whimpering and sucking his thumb.
Else smiled at them. “I have a place for you. When can you leave?”
The husband exchanged a shocked look with his wife. “In five minutes,” he said in a thick German accent.
The poor couple must have fled from Germany to Denmark before the war, and now they had to flee again. Else stretched out her arms. “May I hold your baby so you can pack?”
“Ja.” The lady passed the little one to Else.
“Oh, you sweet baby.” Else propped the infant up to her shoulder. And her plan fell into place. “For this journey, I will pretend to be your husband’s wife and the mother of your children, and you will be his sister. My blond hair will attract less attention from the Germans.”
The mother’s mouth twitched in disdain as she folded a blanket.
Else patted the baby’s squirming back. “Only until we reach the house.”
“Do what the lady says.” A middle-aged man covered his ears. “I can’t stand the noise.”
“Fine.” The wife’s voice came out clipped. She stood, swung the toddler up to her hip, and picked up a small suitcase.
Her husband took a young girl by the hand and picked up a second suitcase.
Else’s heart wrenched. A family of five, and they could take only two small suitcases.
With her empty briefcase over one shoulder and the baby in her arms, Else said goodbye to Staffeldt and led the family upstairs and through the bookstore.
Out on Kongens Nytorv, Else walked close to the husband’s side on the way to the tram stop with the wife trailing behind.
Two German soldiers stood on the sidewalk, smoking cigarettes.
The husband’s step hitched.
“Keep going,” Else muttered. Then she called back over her shoulder. “Thank you for coming with us, Inge. I appreciate your help with the children.”
The woman’s face hardened, but then she gave a stiff smile. “I’m glad to.”
At the tram stop, Else waited until an elderly lady passed behind their group—the lady she’d seen in the bookstore. “If we get separated, take Line 7 to Nørreport. We can meet there.”
“Are we taking the train?” the husband asked in a tight voice. “I—I have only a few kroner.”
