Dance on a Sinking Ship by Michael Kilian

Author:Michael Kilian
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781504018333
Publisher: MysteriousPress.com/Open Road

CHAPTER ELEVEN

Count von Kresse eased open the door to his stateroom and stepped inside quietly, discovering at once that there was no point to such stealth. Dagne was awake, sitting up in her bed, her cheeks rosy in the first pink light of sunrise.

“Gute morgen,” he said, crossing to his own bed and lowering himself stiffly.

“Morgen wirklich. Allerdings nicht langer nacht.”

“Certainly not night,” he repeated, yawning as he began to undo his tie.

“Which was it?” she said. “The admirer of aviation art or the English Jewess?”

“Will you never stop, Dagne? I have no wish to breakfast on tripe this morning, especially regurgitated Herr Schicklgruber tripe.” He pulled off his shoes and leaned back. Despite his sister, despite his pain, he felt happy.

“You haven’t answered my question.”

“I don’t question your liaisons, Dagne, even when they’re with one of those Berlin gutter politicians.”

“I am not married. You are, liebchen bruder, and to a Catholic woman.”

“Whom I’ve not seen in twelve years.”

“But married all the same.”

“And does the new regime recognize marriages with Polish persons? I thought they’d been declared untermensch.”

“The Jewess is married also.”

“It’s what you would call a modern marriage.”

“Well, her husband, who is a good German Englishman, was almost killed last night!”

“We learned that a few minutes ago. Edwina’s with him now.”

“If the ship hadn’t been listing to starboard he would have fallen into the ocean. It’s extraordinary luck that he rolled onto the deck below instead.”

“Extraordinary luck that he wasn’t badly injured even at that,” said von Kresse, pulling off his dinner jacket. “They say it’s just bruises and a slight concussion.”

“And where were you when this was happening? In some stairwell? A lavatory?”

“We spent the night in an unoccupied cabin, and there is nothing more about this you need know, schwester.”

She pulled her knees up to her chin and wrapped her arms around them. It was only then that he noticed the pistol on the bed beside her.

“I am very worried, Martin.”

“So I see.”

She picked up the weapon and held it loosely in one hand, the barrel pointing down.

“I received a warning from Goering,” she said. “Himmler knows what we’re doing. For some reason he wants to stop us. And, I presume, he has an agent on board this ship, maybe more than one.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I didn’t want to upset you. I wanted you to concentrate on our task. I thought I could handle any trouble. But now he attacks Lord Mountbatten. Why couldn’t he go after Mrs. Simpson instead, and save us all this effort?”

“According to that Channon fellow, someone locked Mrs. Simpson in her closet yesterday morning.”

“Ja, aber nichts mehr.”

“We don’t know that it was Himmler’s people in either case. We don’t know for certain if there are any of Himmler’s people on this ship. How could there be? Only Goering knew we were sailing on it.”

“Goering learned about Prince Edward’s plans from Ribbentrop, who talks to everyone.”

“I want to give this up, Dagne.”

“Too late, Martin. Besides, we may yet succeed. That American boy, Christopher Parker, he told me last night about Mrs.

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