Someday I'll Find You by C.C. Humphreys

Author:C.C. Humphreys [Humphreys, C.C.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Doubleday Canada
Published: 2023-06-06T00:00:00+00:00

* * *

The reception was in a first-floor apartment in a block on the same street Klaus had struggled up from the station. It had not been such a hard return as the snow had dwindled again to a few flakes, and Fru Boren kept a firm grip on his arm to prevent any falling. Hers, he suspected, not his.

The first room he entered was book-lined, and held a table with food and drinks on it. There was a Norwegian equivalent of Glühwein, but after a glass was handed to him, Klaus found it a bit thin and moved onto aquavit. There was salmon, both poached in dill and cured as gravlax, various cheeses, and some foul-smelling cod dish that the Norwegians seemed most excited about, each newcomer crying “Lutefisk!” when they saw it and tucking in. The spread was excellent for a city during wartime, but Fru Boren and perhaps the host obviously had German connections to supply them.

Unlike the others, Klaus could not fill a plate and carry it into the one of the two larger reception rooms, where the main party was taking place, so he put a plate on the table and ate a little right there. Not too much. He had other plans.

In the corner of the second room was a Norway spruce. It wasn’t as tall as the trees back home, but was decorated like them with candles, plaster globes, tinsel and strings of flags—the red, white and blue of Norway intertwined with the red and black Swastika. An angel played a trumpet at its apex. When he moved to stand beside it he could see into both rooms.

She was in the far corner of the last room, sitting cross-legged on the edge of a sofa. She had an empty plate balanced on her thigh, a drink in one hand, a cigarette in the other. Standing before her was the young violinist. He was waving his own cigarette around like a conductor’s baton and he said something that made them both laugh.

“So. We have another victim for the ice princess.”

Klaus, lost to his thoughts, started, turned. Behind him, looking where he’d just looked, was a tall officer in the black uniform of an SS major. The man shot his right hand up. “Heil Hitler.”

“Major.” Klaus noted the man’s eyes narrow slightly when he didn’t echo the salute. He knew he shouldn’t do it, shouldn’t bait the Nazis. He cleared his throat. “Excuse me, but what did you just say?”

The man shrugged, then grinned. “I saw you staring at the delectable Fräulein Magnusson. So I thought I should come and warn you. She has turned down half the Kriegsmarine, most of the Heer, and all”—he glanced at Klaus’s eagle—“the Luftwaffe.”

“All the SS too, I assume?”

“Everyone. Some say she does not like men. I mean, she even turned me down.”

Klaus studied the face before him. He didn’t see irony in it. The man was sharp of cheekbone and jaw, had thick blond hair slightly longer than regulation, expensive teeth, eyes the pale blue of a finch’s egg.

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