The Refusal Camp by James R. Benn

Author:James R. Benn [Benn, James R.]
Language: spa
Format: epub
Publisher: Soho Press

THE MORNING PRISONER count was held in the rain, a light mist that soaked through threadbare layers and left the weakest among them shivering. Major Krantz watched the proceedings, his collar turned up as water dripped from his peaked cap. As soon as the prisoners were dismissed, Malou walked toward him instead of to the trucks. She stood until he noticed her, then gave him a discreet nod. Moments later two guards grabbed her and brought her into the building. There was less rough stuff this time, probably because the Germans didn’t want to stand out in the rain. A small bit of luck that Malou hoped would stay with her.

She was ushered into Krantz’s office in the Political Department. Not the interrogation room, but a proper office. The guards stood outside, with the door left open. Krantz’s raincoat hung from a hook, water puddling beneath it.

“You have something for me?” Krantz said, leaning back in his chair.

“Yes, sir,” Malou said. “A name. Tilde Authier. She’s French. She approached me last night and said she was part of a resistance group with other Frenchwomen. She invited me to join.”

“What did you say?” Krantz asked.

“I told her I was scared, but that I would think about it. I didn’t know if you’d want me to join or not.”

“Very smart of you,” Krantz said, nodding his approval. “But you will decline. We are already watching her and her group. Let us wait until you discover something new. But well done.”

“Yes, sir,” Malou said, standing still, unsure what to say next. She should want something. Informers would be greedy. “Did you mention a reward?”

“I did. You don’t deserve much for such a useless piece of information, but to show you I can be generous, we will find something for you. Another piece of clothing, perhaps. The days are getting colder.” Krantz called for a guard and instructed him to take Malou to the storeroom and let her select one item.

Malou thanked him, bowing her head to demonstrate her abject obedience.

She followed the guard down a hallway, glancing into each office that they passed. She saw officers, clerks, and even some of the young girls who were lucky enough to get office jobs. Their attire was clean, the striped prisoner uniform worn over dresses that appeared spotless. Mury Girl Scouts, perhaps.

She hardly merited a second look. Informers must have been escorted to the storeroom before.

Malou almost stopped short. On her right, through an open door, she spotted Morgen. Seated at a desk, he was closing a file and placing it on a stack of others. His eyes met Malou’s, and she thought she saw a raised eyebrow of recognition.

Then she was past the room, hurrying to catch up with the guard before he noticed she’d lagged. Two doors down, at the end of the corridor, they came to the storeroom. Malou was told to pick one item and be quick about it.

Shelves held stacks of folded clothing. Malou was stunned by the choices available

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