“Well, you needn’t be. I’ve never met him. He’s a friend of a friend.”
“Then why should you care what becomes of him? He’s just another Jew journalist, no one of any consequence.”
“Then it shouldn’t be any bother to release him.” She took another strawberry and closed her eyes as she savored a bite, her knee brushing Rudolf’s beneath the table. “Honestly, I don’t care about this fellow, but I do care about my friend, and she’s distraught. Can’t you pull some strings?”
“He broke the law.”
“You don’t really know that, do you? He hasn’t even had a trial.” Martha shook her head, frowning in feigned bewilderment. “Isn’t that illegal? It sure is in the States.”
Rudolf smiled, amused. “We are not in the States.”
“Darling, I know that if you said the word, he could walk out of that camp tonight.”
“And if every prisoner with an alluring advocate is permitted to walk out of prison before serving their sentences...?”
“Then you might have to shut down those camps, which might not be such a bad thing, since I hear they’re pretty horrible.” She sipped her champagne, enjoying the bubbling warmth as it spread through her. “You just admitted that you still find me alluring.”
“That is hardly a secret.”
She set down her glass and reached for his hand. “Tell me you’ll see what you can do.”
He sighed and interlaced his fingers through hers. “I’ll see what I can do.”
“And say that you’ll dance with me.”
“I will.” He inclined his head toward the bandstand. “The next slow song.”
“Naturally.” Resting her elbow on the table and her chin in her free hand, she smiled dreamily at the orchestra. “What is this song? ‘When man something something—’”
“Wenn man sucht wird man finden,” Rudolf corrected. “When one seeks, one will find.”
“Do you believe that’s true?”
“It depends. What one finds is often not what one had sought.” He caressed the back of her hand with his thumb. “When you tire of your Russian boyfriend, perhaps you will seek me.”
“Darling, you know I can’t. You’re married.”
“That never bothered you before.”
“Maybe I’ve mended my ways.”
“Then honor compels me to warn you that Vinogradov is married too, and he has a young child.”
“Yes, I know. A daughter. We’ve met.” Martha also knew, as apparently Rudolf did not, that Boris was seeking a divorce, and that he and Martha had discussed marriage. She smiled, clasped her other hand around Rudolf’s, and gave him a teasing, contrite pout. “Let’s not worry about the future. Who knows what might happen? We’re here together now. Let’s enjoy now.”
He raised his glass. “To now.”
She clinked her glass against his. “To now, and to favors granted.”
He regarded her wryly over the rim of his glass, and she let her eyes shine teasingly into his.
A fortnight later, when Mildred came for tea at Tiergartenstrasse 27a, she thanked Martha profusely for whatever she had done on Natan Weitz’s behalf. He had not been released, but his family had been granted weekly visits and were permitted to bring him packages of food, clothing, books, and letters. The Gestapo promised to release him if he confessed, but he continued to proclaim his innocence.
“Is he innocent?” asked Martha.
“Sara hasn’t said, and I won’t ask,” said Mildred. “Natan can’t admit to breaking the Editors Law without implicating others at theBerliner Tageblatt. He doesn’t sound like the sort of man who would condemn friends to prison so that he might go free.”
“Then for his sake I hope he can stick to his story under pressure.”
