‘Finally,’ she breathed.
Kaiser erupted in delighted yapping, his claws skittering up and down the hallway.
‘I think you need to take him out,’ Ursula called from the living room.
Müller appeared in the kitchen doorway, loosening his tie. ‘Ah, Frau Bergmann, I didn’t know you were still here.’
‘I was just making coffee for you both before I leave.’ Clara kept her voice light and casual.
Müller eyed the cups on the counter and pursed his lips. ‘Very well. I’m taking the dog out first, though.’ He dropped his briefcase just inside the study door, so close, tantalisingly close.
The moment the front door closed behind him, Clara grabbed the coffee cups. “I’ll just bring these through. I’m afraid I’ve spilt some grounds in the kitchen. Let me clean up quickly.’
Ursula started to rise, but Clara was already moving. ‘No, please, stay comfortable. I’ll only be a moment.’ She pulled the living room door closed behind her.
Her heart hammered against her ribs as she seized the briefcase. Her hands shook as she rifled through the papers. There – the list.
She pulled out her notebook and pencil, copying names with swift, practised strokes. One after another. Then she froze.
Several names were underlined in red. Her eyes tracked across the columns. The Neuruppin column – ticked. Multiple times.
Ice flooded her veins. Friedrich had mentioned Neuruppin. Where Frau Levin had been sent. He hadn’t said what happened there, but his silence had told her enough.
She marked the red-underlined names with a small cross in her notebook and kept copying, fast now. Kaiser’s bark would signal his and Müller’s return.
The next name stopped her cold.
Hannah Rothstein. Red underline. Neuruppin column ticked.
No.
Her pencil hovered over the page. Not Hannah.
Kaiser’s barking erupted outside – closer, urgent.
Clara scribbled the last two names from memory, snapped the briefcase shut and shoved it back by the study door. She was in the kitchen, wiping an imaginary spill from the counter, when she heard Müller come back in.
She called her goodbyes to Ursula, gathered her things and stepped into the cold evening air.
Her hands were still trembling as she walked away from the building. She needed to get to Max. Tonight. Now. She couldn’t let anything happen to Hannah – not after she’d failed Frau Levin. Not after she’d stood at her window and done nothing while that baby was taken away.
Chapter 18
Clara pushed open the door to the church and stepped inside the building. There was a man sitting near the front, with his head bowed in prayer. Clara slipped into the pew she’d sat in with Max and keeping an eye on the man, she reached under the seat and pulled out the prayer book. Slowly, so she didn’t make any noise with turning the pages, she found page thirty-five and slid the pieces of paper with the names between the pages, before putting it back under the pew.
The man got to his feet, dipped his head towards the altar as he stepped out into the aisle. Clara kept her own head bowed as the man walked down the aisle and left the church.
Clara’s heels echoed around the space as she walked up the side aisle and into the empty Lady Chapel. She knelt before the statue of Mary and from her pocket took the box of matches. Her hands shook as she struck the match and lit a candle, before blowing out the flame.
Clara glanced around. No one was watching. She leaned forward and drew the burned end across the stone wall behind Mary’s statue. One vertical black line.
She crossed herself and left.
By the time she got home, Friedrich was already there. ‘You’re late, I was just beginning to worry about you.’
‘Sorry.’ She rose on tiptoe to kiss him. ‘I’ll get supper started right away.’ She hung up her coat and walked briskly down the hallway to the kitchen. She couldn’t lie to Friedrich about where she’d been. That wasn’t how their marriage worked. ‘Oh, you’ve already started it.’ The soup was in the saucepan and the bread already cut, waiting on the side.
‘Clara.’
