El Alamein by Jack Murray (spanish books to read .TXT) 📗

Foreign nationals? Brehme glanced at Keller in surprise. He’d known Dr Glickman all his life. Now he was an enemy of the state. A fifth columnist of sorts. Brehme almost snorted in disgust.

Keller stepped forward; his patience was wearing thin. He pushed Becker to one side. Felix realised that this was not a friendly visitor and began to growl. Keller turned to Becker as he passed, ‘Control that dog or I will shoot it.’

There was no question he meant it. Becker bent down and tried to calm Felix. He glanced up at Brehme as he entered. Brehme merely shrugged at Becker and followed Keller into the house along with Graf. The other policemen were in the kitchen now. One of them was Erich but he stood back a little to let his senior colleagues take the lead. There was a look of excitement on his face. Brehme felt his hatred for the boy rise. This was his war. The only one he was qualified to wage: against old men and women.

‘Start searching,’ ordered Keller.

Becker had found his voice, or at least pretended to.

‘This is an outrage. Who are you? Herr Brehme, what is the meaning of this?’

Brehme turned to Keller and raised his eyebrows. He had no intention of justifying the unjustifiable. This was Keller’s show. He would let the Gestapo man explain. Keller ignored the complaints and shouted to the policemen to turn the place inside out. Then he spun around to Becker.

‘Do you have an attic?’ demanded Keller.

‘Or cellar?’ added Brehme. This thought impressed Keller as much as it surprised him.

‘Or cellar,’ added Keller unnecessarily.

‘We don’t have an attic,’ said Becker in a more resigned voice. ‘We do have a cellar.’

‘Show me,’ said Keller. Becker led Brehme, Keller and Graf out the back door and towards the door leading to the cellar.

By this stage Brehme was marvelling at the performance of Becker. He was walking the fine line between defeat and anger with aplomb. His business at the door was worthy of Chaplin. A brief explanation that the cellar was rarely used was emphasised by a slight struggle to open the door. He turned to Brehme and smiled with embarrassment. Rain dripped off his hat but there was no mistaking the anger in the eyes of Keller.

‘It’s a little stuck,’ said Becker with a shrug.

‘Let me try,’ said Brehme, pretending impatience. Much to his surprise it was. There had been no such problems the previous evening. Becker had obviously done something with the key. Finally, after a few shakes, the key managed to do its job. The door dragged along the ground. Another nice touch thought Brehme.

‘There’s no electricity down here,’ said Becker as they stepped forward into a dark stairwell. Keller took out a torch and lit up the stairs. It was bitterly cold. This would have been uninhabitable. The first glimmerings of doom were already puncturing the confidence Keller had felt on the way here.

They reached the bottom of the stairs and opened the door. The room was empty now save for some junk and furniture partially covered by dusty bedsheets. This was turning into a bravura performance. Brehme glanced at Becker. The little man remained impassive, but he gave another shrug of his shoulders. The resignation mixed with confusion was beginning to wear away the confidence of Keller.

‘Any other rooms?’ demanded Keller. His voice was almost shrill with anger. Or perhaps fear. There was nothing to suggest that this room had been used in recent months.

‘No,’ said Becker simply.

They trooped back upstairs to the back yard. Thunder crashed overhead and the rain seemed to intensify. Their feet splashed through puddles as they made their way back to the kitchen. They met with the other policemen inside. Brehme saw one give a shake of his head.

It was clear that the old couple could not possibly have been harbouring anyone. Raging eyes turned on Becker. Felix was barking for all his worth. This served only to increase Brehme’s anxiety. He suspected Keller was not far away from violence. Keller’s temperature gauge was rising rapidly. He recognised the signs. They had reached a danger point.

Keller turned to the dog. His hand went to his pocket. Brehme knew what would happen now. He stepped in front of Keller blocking out his view of Felix. He motioned with his eyes to Agatha Becker to remove Felix just as Keller screamed in his ear, ‘Get that dog out of here.’

Agatha Becker immediately grabbed Felix’s collar and led him into the adjoining living room. This seemed to mollify the Labrador a little. She knelt down and stroked him, but all the time kept her eyes on Keller.

Denied the chance to inflict violence, Keller spun around to Becker and snarled at him, ‘If I find anything that proves you’ve been lying to me then you and your wife will face the direst of consequences.’

Brehme silently prayed that Becker kept his council. This was not the time for grandstanding. Evidently Becker was of a like mind for he looked fearful. Of course, this may not have been acting, reflected Brehme. He was still feeling tense.

Felix began barking but Agatha Becker remained with him and spoke soothingly. This seemed to have an effect.

‘I can assure you that we would never do such a thing,’ said Becker fearfully.

Felix stopped barking now which, perhaps, only irritated Keller further. He wanted to act. Hurt someone or something. He glared at Becker impotent with rage but could not think of anything else to say. His face was burning red now. His humiliation was complete. Brehme remained silent and scanned the room just in case there was anything incriminating.

Then he felt his stomach lurch.

Lying by one of the chairs was an old, battered teddy bear. He couldn’t breathe. His heart began to accelerate. The toy was out in the open. He wanted to leap over the table and hide it. Instead, he could do nothing but stand there, powerless. Thunder rumbled outside