Round Robin (26 page)

Robin dropped to one knee and laying the knife aside stroked Bianca’s brow.

“Mama,” the little girl said with relief, and grabbed Robin’s hand.

Then she opened her eyes and saw her mother wasn’t there at all. Robin was.

“You were having a nightmare,” Robin said, “but everything’s okay.”

Bianca didn’t say a word. She released Robin’s hand, rolled away from her and within seconds was fast asleep again.

Chapter 24

Robin called Brother Damian at eight a.m. on New Year’s Day. Bianca was still asleep, but Brother Damian was up, fresh and chipper. He expressed his wish that the New Year be a joyous one for Robin.

“It’ll be off to good start if you can get in touch with Manfred for me,” she said.

Brother Damian picked up on her tone immediately.

“What’s the problem?” he asked.

“Manfred’s daughter is back, and she thinks some very bad people are after her.”

“She came back from Germany? Who brought her?”

“No one. As far as I can tell, she made it back alone.”

“Good Lord. Then her fears must be credible.”

Robin had given that matter further thought. She didn’t think that Bianca had seen anyone but an affluent Chicagoan in his fancy car last night, but if the creep the kid had laid low back in the Fatherland was as wealthy and vengeful as described, he could be looking for her. And it wasn’t much of a reach to think that dear old Mama Krump knew of Bianca’s Chicago address from the kid. You put two and two together and it made for a very uneasy morning for Robin.

“They’re real enough for me,” she said. “Do you know when Manfred’s due home?”

“It should be sometime today. School resumes tomorrow.”

Robin sighed in relief.

“You can come over here,” Brother Damian said. “I can recruit several of Coach Welk’s more strapping students to stand guard.”

Robin considered.

“That’s very kind of you, but I think Bianca would feel safer here. Me, too, for that matter. We can hold out ‘til Manfred gets back.”

This time there was a pause at the other end of the line.

“Then would you mind if I dropped by to keep you company?” Brother Damian asked. “I boxed CYO as a lad, was a middleweight champ in fact, and there’s still a bit of the Lord’s righteous wrath in my hands.”

“Thank you, Brother Damian, I’d appreciate that.”

Robin also called David Solomonovich. He was up early, too. Men of the cloth and young rocket scientists apparently didn’t go in for debauchery on the last night of the year. It pleased Robin more than a little that David agreed to come over immediately.

The two visitors arrived within minutes of each other, and Robin made the introductions. Seconds later, Bianca poked her head out of Robin’s room and as soon as she saw David she ran to him and threw her arms around his waist. She started babbling to David in German, apparently recalling for him in much greater detail the ordeal she’d been through.

David patted her gently on the back, like a big brother. He led her over to the sofa where they sat with his hands clasping hers. The narrative of events continued to gush from the little girl. David listened closely and every so often he’d ask a question, seeming to seek clarification on a point he’d found incredible. Bianca would then explain, apparently telling him that his ears had not deceived him.

Robin mentally scolded herself for not having learned more German. She ought to know what was going on here. After all, it was happening under her roof.

At one point, Bianca began to cry. David looked over to the adults and it was Brother Damian who picked up on the cue.

“Let’s give the young man a little room,” he told Robin. “This sort of job requires a measure of privacy.”

Robin didn’t care if he left, but she intended to stay right there.

Until Brother Damian whispered to her, “Purging a soul is a delicate business — and you must have known David would be helpful this way or why would you have called on him?”

“You’re good,” she quietly told the man in black. “You’re very good.”

She led him to the kitchen and poured coffee for both of them. Brother Damian took his black and as he sipped he looked over the rim of his cup at Robin.

Putting his coffee down, he asked, “Is there anything you’d care to tell me?”

She almost snapped at him, had the urge to say he wasn’t a priest and she wasn’t a Catholic ... but she looked into his calm gray eyes and saw nothing but the offer to be of help.

Robin shook her head.

“I’m not one to share my troubles,” she said.

Brother Damian only nodded.

An hour later Manfred arrived.

By that time, Bianca was sleeping in Robin’s bed again. Her catharsis had exhausted her. Which left David to explain to Manfred what Bianca had told him. This time, no argument in the world was going to keep Robin out of the room, and she insisted that David tell the story in English.

He repeated much of what the kid had told Robin last night in the park, but there was more.

David recounted, “This guy, Rausch, when he was in the room with Bianca he didn’t actually touch her ... but as things went along he did ... expose himself to her. While he was doing that, and basically fondling himself, he was showing her a small photo album of other children, boys and girls, that he said lived in his castles ... ”

As David told the tale, a bright red band of anger appeared at his brow and rose to his hairline. Manfred remained as still as death and was all the more fearsome for it. Brother Damian clenched his fists. Robin didn’t even want to think what her own expression was.

“He said that all his children had every toy they could ever want, they ate all their favorite foods every day and dressed in the nicest clothes. And all they had to do was be nice to Herr Rausch and his gentlemen friends when they visited. He said the children should never try to run away because there were monsters outside his castles that would eat them up. They would be safe only with him and his friends.” David took a deep breath, trying to impose a measure of equilibrium on his psyche. “Bianca said that was when he started to get an erection, and she knew she had to do something before that happened, so she hit him and she kicked him. She said a girl from the brothel named Geli helped her get on the airplane to Chicago.”

David shook his head.

“Now, she’s worried that this animal is after her. Somebody ought to kill that bastard.”

“Ja,”
Manfred said. “Somebody should.”

He stood up and walked into Robin’s bedroom and sat on the floor next to the bed until his daughter awakened that afternoon.

When Bianca saw Manfred there she sat up and threw her arms around his neck.

“Vati,”
she cried. Daddy.

Robin overheard the start of another long conversation in German. David and Brother Damian had gone home. Robin returned to her kitchen to await whatever was going to happen next. Manfred came in forty-five minutes later.

“Would you like something to eat?” Robin asked.

Manfred shook his head and sat at the kitchen table. Robin sat across from him.

“Did she tell you the story again?”

“Yes.”

“Anything new this time?”

A thin smile crossed Manfred’s face.

“Only that I would have been proud how hard she hit the nasty old man. She’s asleep again.”

“Probably the best thing. Do you think she should see anyone? A doctor, or a therapist?”

“I don’t know. I want to thank you for taking Bianca in last night. She had nowhere else to turn.”

“What was I going to do?” Robin asked. “Put her out in the street?”

“No, of course not ... but I know you and Bianca are not
gemachlich
together.”

“Yeah, that’s pretty obvious, isn’t it?”

“That is why I have difficulty asking you what I am about to ask.”

“What’s that?” Robin asked warily.

“I must ask you to watch Bianca for a few more days, possibly a week.”

“Why?”

“I am going to Germany. This man and his friends will never frighten my daughter again.”

“You’re going to kill him?” Robin asked, incredulous.

“I will do whatever is necessary.”

Robin really didn’t have a problem with the idea of Manfred killing the guy — except that it might put him right back in a German prison. Which would leave her stuck with the kid for a heckuva lot longer than a week. And she would be stuck, because no way would she send the kid back to Mama again; that bitch would just sell her to some other pervert.

Robin was wondering how she could raise this set of concerns without seeming too cold when the phone rang. She picked up and said hello.

She looked at Manfred and said, “It’s for you. Your pal from the CIA.”

Manfred took the phone,
“Hier ist Manfred.”

Robin watched as he listened. Manfred said
ja,
gave one emphatic nod and then seemed almost to collapse inward on himself. He softly said thank you and hung up. Then he sat back down at the kitchen table and remained silent.

Robin, still on her feet, waited until she could stand it no more.

“What? What’s going on?”

“Warner was calling to make sure Bianca was home safely. He’d been called by his contact in Germany. Bianca and Geli picked up the return ticket that Warner had left for her. The agent who held it was a little surprised that Bianca didn’t have her mother with her. Bianca explained that her mother was a former Communist and didn’t like Americans. And Geli was her cousin. The agent gave her the ticket, but decided to follow up and see if it was used not cashed in.”

“She used it all right,” Robin said. “Made it all the way back.”

“Ja.”

“Um ... about going to Germany. Since you have friends in the CIA and all, don’t you think —”

“It will not be necessary to go now.”

“Why not?”

“The agent who gave Bianca the ticket made some other inquiries. He discovered a situation that made him nervous, which is why he called Warner. After Rausch recovered from his injury, he went to Ulrike and demanded his money back; he’d paid several thousand marks for Bianca. Ulrike refused to give it to him, saying she’d turned Bianca over to him and if he lost her that was his doing. The argument turned violent. Rausch produced a gun, and Horst Muehlmann, Ulrike’s lover, wrestled him for it and ultimately broke the pervert’s neck.”

“So you don’t have to worry about him now?” Robin asked, the relief clear in her voice.

Manfred shook his head.

“No ... but during the struggle, the gun went off.” Manfred looked at Robin. “Ulrike was killed. When Bianca wakes up I will have to tell her that her mother is dead.”

They waited until Bianca woke up, and then Manfred took her down to their own apartment to break the news.

After they’d left, Robin went into her bedroom and took an envelope from the top drawer of her dresser. It had been lying there unopened for weeks, most of the time covered by her underwear. She looked at her name written on it, the Palmer script as instantly recognizable as ever. Robin sat on the edge of her bed just looking at it, turning it over and over in her hands, as if she hoped to divine the message held inside without having to open the damn thing.

The loudest sound she heard was the pulse in her ears. The light was fading from the first day of the year. Robin knew that if she were ever going to read what her mother had to say to her it would have to be soon. If she got up, it would not be to turn on the light or put the card back in the drawer. It would be to throw the card in the garbage.

A year ago, she might have allowed the choice to be made by default. Let the light fall away and carry with it the final thread of the bond between mother and daughter. But she wasn’t the same person she’d been then. Nancy kept telling her she was stronger, and she was right. Maybe even strong enough to stand up to her mother these days.

Strong enough to avoid the final default. Robin slipped her finger under the flap of the envelope and tore it open.

The card she withdrew had a picture of a mother and daughter on the front. The little girl, who looked to be about six years old was walking on top of a stone wall that rose to the height of the mother’s waist. To steady the child and keep her from falling, the mother extended her hand to her daughter. The mother’s eyes were on her child, but the daughter’s eyes were looking ahead to see where her path might lead.