He gave the man a slow, dull blink.
The officer chuckled, leaned back, and crossed his ankle over his knee. “Have you wondered why I use such high vocabulary with you? Everyone knows Hemming Andersen is stupid.”
Henrik kept his face impassive.
“No need to pretend.” The man smiled. “Your landlady read your journal. She said you wrote quite well with a large vocabulary. You are not who you pretend to be, Herre Andersen.”
They had his journal, as he’d suspected, but the reality of it chilled his blood.
No ... he’d said Fru Riber reported on the journal. Not that he’d read it himself.
A surge of victory and relief. They didn’t have the journal.
So where was it?
“Something else very interesting in your journal. You’re in love with a girl you call ‘E.’ Your landlady is certain it’s Dr. Else Jensen. A physicist is a strange choice for a common laborer, ja?”
Henrik’s lips pinched against his will. If they had Else in custody, anything he said could endanger her even more.
Herr Gestapo rested his chin in his hand. “This is where it gets interesting. Dr. Jensen is wanted for printing illegal newspapers.”
Wanted? They hadn’t arrested her?
Hope billowed inside, not flimsy hope for a quick death, but true hope that Else would live.
“What do you know about her work withFrit Danmark?”
Henrik kept his mouth and gaze still. How did they know Else was printing—and which paper?
The German physicist. He must have told the Gestapo, and the Gestapo visited Fru Riber, and Fru Riber spilled everything.
The officer stood and took long, lazy steps toward Henrik. “We found the strangest things in your room. Notebooks filled with physics equations.”
Inhisroom? With great effort, he concealed his surprise.
The officer stopped in front of Henrik and clasped his hands behind his back. “It seems your Dr. Jensen was a spy, sending nuclear research to our enemies. Using you and your connections with the English, taking advantage of you. Oh, you poor man. Did she make you think she loved you? You poor, deluded man. So, come, tell me who your contact is.”
Else’s notebooks—in his room. How did they get there? She must have come to his room before the raid. She had the journal. She’d switched her notebooks for his journal. To protect him. Because she loved him.
Warmth flowed through bruised flesh and stinging skin and curved his split lips.
The officer turned away and took one step.
A whirl of arm, and he backhanded Henrik in the ear.
His head snapped to the side, and he cried out.
Lights exploded in his head.
Light ... light ...“So tell me, my pretty little physicist, what sounddoeslight make?”
“I think,”Else had said as she leaned against him.“I think light sounds like silence.”
With all his life, all his light, Henrik would stay silent.
VEDBÆK
Else sat on the bed at Lyd-af-Lys in her coat, hugging herself. “How can I leave? Leaving feels like giving up on him.”
