The Pale House (24 page)

“I see this is familiar,”
said as he stubbed his cigarette out on the table and left it there. “Tell me of this uniform.”

“The red triangle is the symbol of a penal battalion,” Reinhardt said.
frowned and shook his head, not understanding. “A punishment unit.”

“
Shtrafbat
,” Simo murmured.
face lightened, and he motioned Reinhardt to continue.

“There is a penal battalion in Sarajevo, headquartered at the Ottoman fortress on Vratnik.”

“Tell me of it.”

“I do not know that much. It mainly does support work. Construction. Transportation. And there is, apparently, a large number of foreign volunteers in it. Which would explain the man being an Albanian. There are some in the unit. Now, let me ask you some things. Did the Partisans have anything to do with the deaths of three German soldiers last night, in Logavina?”
shook his head, that slight frown pulling his face down. “Did the Partisans have anything to do with a massacre of civilians in the forests to the east of the town, two days ago?”

“At the logging site?”

“You know of it?”

“The site or the deaths? Both. We attacked the site in the past.”

“Why?”

“It was run by the German Army.” This was news to Reinhardt. “We had nothing to do with those deaths. Why are you asking?”

“I was a policeman, Mr.
, as I'm sure you know. I am eliminating possibilities.”

“You are investigating these deaths?”

“Murders. Of the Feldjaeger, yes, I am.”

“Will it get in the way of what I ask of you?”

Reinhardt smiled, and it was something sardonic, an acidic twist of his lips he could not control. “Mr.
, I . . .” He stopped, searching for the right words. “You know, you are asking me to serve two masters, pursue two ends.”

“Maybe they will not be so far apart as you think, Captain. If we did not kill those people—and I assure you we did not—it does not leave so many suspects.”

There was a soft sound of movement behind
, and one of the men leaned forward into the light.
“Druže, trebalo bi razmisliti o odlasku. Ovdje smo bili predugo.”

“
, momak
,”
said, holding up a hand and all the while keeping his eyes on Reinhardt. The man subsided back into the dark. “My men are worried we have been here too long. I need to leave, Captain. But you will find out where those three UstaÅ¡e have gone, and whether the Germans have had anything to do with it. And you will find what is this connection with a German penal battalion.”

“Respectfully, how do you expect me to do that?” It sounded formulaic, protest for protest's sake. Reinhardt knew it, and
seemed to hear it, although his broad face remained blank as he stood up.

“You will find a way. You are a resourceful man, Captain. You must be, to be still alive and thinking the way you do.”

Reinhardt stood as well, feeling a surge of anger, that impulse to push back at those who sought to channel him. “You claim to know a lot about me for someone who has just met me, Mr.
.”

looked back at him, and a smile chipped across the stone façade of his. “So, there is some spirit in there.” Reinhardt flushed, as he was meant to, thankful the yellow lantern-light spared his coloring. “I know some. I can guess more. The rest, I do not care about. That is why I have trust, Captain. I trust you are a survivor. Although I think it is not what you want to be, I will use that for myself and for my cause. I believe, am I right, that Muamer and you once talked of something similar?”