Chapter 346: The Visitor, Part 14
Casablanca, Angeloi-occupied Mauretania- 8 June 1941, night
Captain Ludwig Rudolf chatted with several of his officers on the tarmac as a plane descended towards them. He noticed the Angeloi eagle painted on the tail of the plane as it touched down and taxied to a spot in front of them. They walked over to where a door on the side of the plane opened. The first to get out was a rather large German, probably Bavarian or Austrian, who wore heavy, horn-rimmed glasses. Obergruppenfuhrer Dietrich Schmidt wasn't smiling at all.
Rudolf upraised his arm. "The Angeloi protect!" he shouted enthusiastically.
Schmidt, sighing to himself, returned the salute with a more relaxed gesture. "The Angeloi protect."
They shook hands. "It's good to see you again, Dietrich."
"Thank you, thank you," replied Schmidt.
"May I introduce my lieutenants?" said Rudolf, gesturing to the officers at his side.
"Of course," said Schmidt, exchanging names and shaking hands with the other men.
Rudolf led Schmidt towards the edge of the air field, where several cars awaited them.
"You might find the climate of Casablanca a trifle warm here," said Rudolf.
"Don't worry," replied Schmidt, "I've fought in Neurhomania during the last war, so I'm quite used to this."
His eyes suddenly hardened. "But perhaps you weren't talking about the weather."
Rudolf smiled cautiously. "What else, my friend?"
"By the way," said Schmidt, "The increased Resistance activity in the city--what's been done? Don't tell me my flight was diverted here for nothing."
"My men are rounding up three times the usual number of suspects, but that's a blind," said Rudolf, "We've already found the identity of the operative in question and who he's meeting with."
"Good," said Schmidt, "Is he in custody yet?"
"There's no hurry," said Rudolf, "He'll be meeting his contact tonight at Alwine's."
He pointed at the cafe just a few blocks away, a giant neon sign reading "ALWINE'S" pointing towards it.
"Everybody comes to Alwine's," said Rudolf.
"I've heard about this cafe," said Schmidt, "And also about Frau Alwine herself."
Downtown Casablanca, outside Alwine's Cafe and Bar
It was nighttime in Casablanca, and that meant that the bar was about to be inundated with lots of customers. It was already quite full; anybody who passed by could see people constantly entering the bar through a revolving door and hear laughter and music from within. The bar was quite expensive and chic, possessing an air of sophistication and intrigue, making it a popular destination for all potential patrons, rich and poor, Angeloi and loyalist.
A four-piece orchestra was currently playing. A Malian man, dressed in bright-blue slacks and a sports shirt, played catchy jazz tunes a small, salmon-colored piano while singing out loud.
About him was a hum of voices, small talk and laughter, coming from the occupants of the room, who came from various backgrounds. There were Romans from a variety of European provinces, sitting in their dinner jackets. In one corner sat a group of off-duty Angeloi soldiers, drinking cup after cup of beer and singing war songs with each other. In another sat a group of civilian Romans, neither Angeloi nor loyalist, wearing fancy suits, their women beautifully begowned and bejeweled. There were Mauretanian Malians wearing exquisite silk robes, with a few of them wearing uniforms and chatting with the Angeloi--the right-leaning government in Timbuktu was rumored to be conducting secret talks with Berlin to bring Mali into the war against the loyalists. There were Turkish refugees from Central Asia, wearing the best clothes they could bring with them, as if they were attending a Slavic or Zunist Sunday prayer service (dubbed "Zunday" by the Zunists among them). There were Greeks from Provincia Syria and Israelis from Provincia Israel. There were some Ethiopian soldiers, distinguished by the Abyssinian lion insignia proudly displayed on their armbands, and even a few Indians and Iranians, on a training exercise with the Imperium tagmata.
Across the room, stretching the entire length of the wall, was a tremendous and splendid bar, filled with dozens of patrons eager to get another cup of beer. Some just wanted to drink and have fun, while others wanted to drink to forget.
"I'll never get out of here," muttered one man, downing another beer, "I'll die here in Casablanca. Stupid annoying bureaucrats."
"I can't stand it," wept a woman, as her husband hugged her, "How much longer do we have to stay here?"
"There, there," said her husband, "It'll only be another couple days or so."
A well-dressed woman was bargaining with a Greek merchant nearby.
"But can't you just make it a bit more?" pleaded the woman, pointing to her only piece of jewelry, a bracelet. "Please?"
"I'm sorry, Frau," said the Greek, "But there are simply too many diamonds. Everybody's selling them. I'll give you five thousand marks, but that's it."
The woman sighed. "Fine."
She handed over the bracelet, and the Greek gave her a stack of bills.
Two gangsters sat at a table, discussing their plan.
"The trucks are waiting, the men are ready," said one of them, "When are the refugees going to show up?"
"Give 'em another two hours, and then we'll leave for Mayapan without 'em," said his accomplice.
Two other men sat at another table, one of them obviously a refugee, probably from occupied Indian Africa.
"The fishing boat Sankt Jakob leaves at one past midnight," said the man, "Here from the end of Pier 39. Third boat moored there. You can't miss it."
"Thank you, oh thank you!" exclaimed the refugee.
"Remember to bring the fifteen thousand marks," said the man, "In cash. We only take cash."
Back at the bar, one could hear a babble of several different languages: Greek, Anglo-Saxon, Malian, Hispanian Norse, Yiddish, Lombard, Mayan, Nahuatl, Hindi, Amhara, Persian, Turkish, and a few scattered phrases and sentences in German.
The bartender, a Russian exile who probably fled with Wrangel and Kolchak after Soviets seized power, handed a drink to a customer while placing more drinks on a tray and handing the tray to a passing waiter, pointing him towards multiple tables. The waiter walked off.
A woman handed a check to a dealer, who looked around and handed it to an overseer, who looked at the check and then at the woman.
"Just a moment, please," he said.
He walked over to a table, where another woman sat, watching the cafe's activities. He handed the check to the woman, who studied it intently. After a little bit, she wrote a small note on the back of the check with a pencil:
"OKAY -- ALWINE."
The overseer nodded and headed back to the other woman. Alwine, meanwhile, continued sitting at her table, all alone. Her eyes were empty and cold, observing every single movement and interaction her patrons made with methodical ease. There were a few streaks of gray in her otherwise dark brown hair, which betrayed her age. She was forty-four, but she looked fifty.
Two men, apparently in their thirties and dressed in fine suits, glanced in Alwine's direction as the waiter prepared some coffee for them.
"Hey, Karl," said one of the men to the waiter, "Would you ask Alwine if she'll have some coffee with us?"
"Herr, she never drinks with her customers," said Karl, "Never unless she's inviting them."
The other man looked disappointed. "Why are the women here always so snobbish?"
The first man handed a one-hundred mark bill to Karl. "Maybe if you told him I run the second-largest bank in Frankfurt?"
Karl shook his head. "That won't impress her. The Angeloi nationalized Frankfurt's banks. The lead banker in Frankfurt's now our main chef, and his father's the bellboy."
But Karl still took the bill and walked away.
Meanwhile, Alwine glanced at the revolving door, where there was a commotion going on. The bellboy gestured in her direction, and Alwine shook her head. Whoever was out there was not to get inside.
She heard a voice with a Berlin accent shouting. "Of all the nerve! Who do you think--"
She got up from her table and, her face still expressionless, walked over to the door, where an embarrassed German was shouting at an Aegyptian.
"I know there's gambling in there!" he shouted. "There's no secret. You'd dare not keep me out of here!"
"Yes?" Alwine said, coldly, "What's the trouble?"
"Um..." said the Russian bartender, "This gentleman's--"
The German waved a business card in the air. "I've been in every gambling room between Adamshaven and Berlin and if you think I'm going to be kept out of a bar like this, you're dead wrong."
Meanwhile, a small, thin man, judging from his choice of clothes a Portuguese Norman (who wore a necklace with one of the West African gods' faces on it), walked into the room, not noticing the commotion. He made a beeline straight for Alwine and the German.
"Er, excuse me, please," said the man, "Hello, Alwine."
Alwine calmly stared at the German. She took his card and, without flinching at all, tore it in half. "Your cash is good at the bar," she said.
"Wait!" said the German. "Do you know who I am?!"
"As a matter of fact, yes," said Alwine, "You're lucky the bar's open to you."
"This is just outrageous!" said the German. "I shall report this to the authorities!"
Alwine turned away from the still ranting German and looked in the Malian pianist's direction. The Malian winked at her, and she smiled back, though it wasn't quite a smile.
Alwine returned to the bar, where the Norman followed her to an area where no patrons sat.
"Heh," said the Norman, "You know, Alwine, watching you just now, one would think you'd been doing this your whole life."
"What makes you think I haven't, Ullrich?" said Alwine.
"Oh, nothing," replied Ullrich, "When you first came here, I thought--"
"Thought what?" Alwine responded coldly.
Scared he would offend Alwine, he laughed nervously. "What right have I to think in this mad world?" he said.
He changed the subject. "Those Resistance people have been causing quite a stir lately, haven't they?"
"They got a break," said Alwine, "Yesterday they were just sabotaging railroads and sending bomb threats to the Angeloi. Today they're supposedly saving the whole Reich."
"Please forgive me for saying this, Frau Alwine, but you're very cynical."
"I forgive you," said Alwine without missing a beat.
Karl delivered two drinks to their table.
"Thanks," said Ullrich, "Will you have a drink with me, please?"
"No," replied Alwine.
"You despise me, do you?" Ullrich said sadly.
"If I gave you any thought, I might," said Alwine, indifferently.
"You object to the kind of business I do," said Ullrich, "But think of the poor refugees who must rot here if I don't help them out. Is it so bad that through ways of my own I provide them with papers to Mayapan?"
"For a price, Ullrich," said Alwine, staring at her drink, "For a price. And Mayapan's got its own civil war. Not exactly a good place to be."
"But think of those poor souls who can't meet Rudolf's price," said Ullrich, "I get it for them at half of his price. How is that parasitic? And the main Mayan island's still pretty safe."
"I don't mind parasites," said Alwine, "I do mind cut-rate ones."
"Well, then you should be glad to know that after tonight I'm done," said Ullrich, "I'm leaving Casablanca."
"Who'd you bribe to get out," said Alwine, "Rudolf, or yourself?"
"Obviously myself," said Ullrich ironically, "I'm more reasonable than Rudolf."
He took an envelope from his pocket and tapped it on his hand. "Do you know what this is? Something that not even you've ever seen?"
He lowered his voice to a whisper. "Letters of transit signed by Foreign Minister Joachim Ribbentrop and by Leon Trotsky himself. Guarantees freedom of travel within both the Axis countries and the Equintern countries. They cannot be rescinded or even questioned. With this anybody can flee to anywhere they want, as long as it's not China or any of its allies, and live out the rest of their lives in peace, far from all of the fighting here in Europe."
Alwine looked at him and then held out his hand for the envelope.
"One moment," said Ullrich, "Tonight, I will hand these letters over to my contacts in the Resistance, for a price, of course. Apparently the Resistance needs to escort someone of importance to PARA. Imagine how much they'll pay! More money than I ever dreamed of! Then, farewell Casablanca! Alwine, I have many friends in Casablanca, but since you despise me you're the only one I trust. Can you keep these letters for me until my contacts arrive?"
"For how long?" asked Alwine.
"Maybe an hour, or two."
"I don't want them here overnight." She took the envelope.
"Don't be afraid of that," said Ullrich, "Please keep them for me. Thank you. I know I can trust you."
A waiter approached their table.
"Oh, waiter, I'm expecting some more people," said Ullrich, "If anyone asks for me, I'll be right here."
The waiter nodded and left.
"Alwine, I hope you're more impressed with me. If you'll forgive me, I'll share my luck with your roulette wheel."
He started to leave.
"Wait," said Alwine.
Ullrich turned around.
"Where'd you get those letters?" said Alwine.
"The Resistance gave them to me," said Ullrich, "Had to pull a few strings, both me and them, but they managed to forge Ribbentrop's signature
and get Trotsky's actual signature!"
"You're right, Ullrich," said Alwine, "I'm a little more impressed with you."
Ullrich smiled and almost swaggered towards the gambling tables, while Alwine started for the door.
She passed by the Malian, who was still playing on the piano, and during one of the moments when the lights were all focused on the band, she slipped the envelope into the piano and headed over to the bar.
A Lombard approached her. "Hey, Alwine."
"Hello, Lunati," said Alwine, "How's business at the Red Toucan?"
"Fine," said Lunati, "But I still want to buy your cafe."
"It's not for sale," said Alwine.
"You haven't heard my offer!"
"It's not for sale at any price."
Lunati sighed. "How much'll you pay for Samuel?"
"I don't buy or sell humans," said Alwine.
"That's too bad," said Lunati, "It's Casablanca's leading commodity. In refugees alone we could make millions!"
"Suppose you let me run my business and you run yours."
"Suppose we ask Samuel? Maybe he'd like a pay raise."
"I like it fine here!" shouted Samuel from the piano.
"Sorry, Lunati," said Alwine.
The Lombard sighed and left.
Meanwhile, the Russian bartender drank another cup of vodka with another Russian man sitting at the bar.
"The boss's private stock," said the bartender in a heavy accent, "Just for you, my friend."
"Shut up, Ivan," said the man.
"Fine, I'll shut up, Boris," said Ivan, "Why do you have to be so rude these days?"
Alwine leaned against the bar next to the man, though she didn't pay any attention to him.
"Ah, Frau Alwine," said Ivan, "Some Angeloi gave me this check. Is it alright?"
He handed her a check. "Yeah, it's fine," she said.
Boris looked over at Alwine. "Where were you last night? I was here all alone, harassed by those pesky Iranians all night long!"
"That's so long ago," said Alwine, "I don't remember."
"Will you be here later tonight?" said Boris.
"I haven't planned that far ahead in years," said Alwine, calmly, "Depends on how many customers I have."
Boris turned back to Ivan. "Another vodka."
"Ivan, he's already so drunk he thinks it's the afternoon," said Alwine, "He's had enough."
"Come on, Ivan, for old time's sake!" said Boris. "
Fill it up."
Ivan hesitated, looking at Alwine. Then he turned back to Boris. "Don't you know she pays me?"
Boris turned on Alwine with drunken fury. "Alwine, I'm sick and tired of your subpar service--"
"Ivan, get a cab," said Alwine.
"Yes, boss," said Ivan, walking towards the entrance.
Alwine grabbed Boris by the arm. "Come on, we're going to get your coat--"
"Get your filthy hands off me--" sputtered Boris.
Alwine pulled him towards the door. "You're going home. You've drunk enough."
Outside, Ivan was calling a cab, and one pulled up. Alwine emerged from the bar, putting a coat on Boris's shoulders. Boris was violently objecting.
"Who do you think you are, woman, pushing me around?!" shouted Boris. "You just lost a customer tonight, you fool!"
Alwine simply stuffed Boris into the cab. "Ivan, you better go with him. Make sure he gets home. And come right back."
"Yes, boss." Ivan climbed into the cab after Boris, and the car started off.
Alwine heard somebody call her name. She turned towards one of the outside tables, spotting Captain Rudolf there.
"Hello, Alwine," said Rudolf.
"Hello, Ludwig," said Alwine.
"How extravagant you are," said Rudolf, "Throwing away customers and men like that. Someday they may be very scarce."
He sipped some beer. "Funny that a divorced woman like you hasn't found another man yet. You know, maybe I should call up Boris, get him to reconsider you, eh?"
Alwine sat down. "Since when were you a matchmaker?"
Rudolf laughed as a plane warmed up on a nearby airfield, ready to takeoff.
"The plane to New Peten," said Rudolf, "You would like to be on it?"
"Why?" said Alwine curtly. "What's in New Peten?"
"Freedom," said Rudolf, "Escape from the chaos in the Imperium."
Alwine didn't answer. She looked sadly at the plane.
"I have often speculated on why you did not return to Germania," said Rudolf, "Did you abscond with church funds? Did you elope with a rich young man? Are you fleeing an abusive husband? I should like to think you killed a man. It's the romantic in me. Or maybe something's keeping you here, keeping you from either returning home to Germania or fully escaping to Mayapan."
"Maybe it was all four," said Alwine.
"And what in God's name has brought you to Casablanca?" said Rudolf.
The plane's motors grew louder. "My health," said Alwine, "The waters are refreshing. And my kids. My son and two daughters can't grow up in a warzone."
"You sure picked the right place to refresh yourself in water and raise your children," said Rudolf, "We're in the middle of the desert."
"I was misinformed," said Alwine.
Rudolf shook his head in silence as the plane sped down the runway and took off, disappearing into the clouds over the Atlantic.
A waiter appeared at their table. "Excuse me, Frau Alwine, but a gentleman has just won twenty thousand marks. The cashier would like some money."
"Well, I'll be right there," said Alwine.
Both of them rose and headed back inside.
"Alwine, there is going to be some excitement here tonight," said Rudolf, "We're going to make an arrest in your cafe."
Alwine was neither worried nor excited. "Again?"
"This is no ordinary arrest," said Rudolf, "A traitorous Bolshevik sympathizer, no less."
They glanced over to the gambling room.
Rudolf noticed where Alwine was looking. "If you're thinking of warning him," he said calmly, "Don't put yourself out. We've already surrounded the place. He can't possibly escape. Don't worry, we won't arrest you as well on account of your brilliant contribution to city life, but I will be forced to if you stick your neck out."
"I stick my neck out for nobody," said Alwine.
"A wise foreign policy," said Rudolf, "You know, we could have arrested him earlier this evening at the Red Toucan, but out of my high regard for you we'll do it here. It'll amuse your customers."
"I think our entertainment should be enough," said Alwine.
Alwine reached a room in the back, where she took out some money from a safe and headed back to the gambling area.
"Alwine, we are to have an important guest tonight," said Rudolf, "Obergruppenfuhrer Dietrich Schmidt, in charge of the occupation of Vienna, from your hometown of Landsberg, no less. We want him to be here when we make the arrest. A little demonstration of the efficiency of my administration."
"I see," said Alwine, "And what's he doing here? He hasn't come all the way from Vienna to witness a demonstration of your efficiency, has he?"
"Perhaps not," said Rudolf.
Alwine handed the money to the waiter, who ran off.
"Ludwig, you've got something on your mind," said Alwine, "Why don't you spill it?"
"You're very observant," said Rudolf, admiringly, "As a matter of fact, I have a word of advice."
"Yeah?" Alwine handed him another beer.
"Thanks. There are many exit visas sold in this cafe, but we know that you yourself have never been involved in the sales. That's why we let you remain open and have not pressed charges against you."
"I though it was because we let you win at roulette," said Alwine.
"Uh, that's a second reason," said Rudolf, "There's a man who has arrived in Casablanca on his way to Mayapan. He is a high-profile criminal who is trying to leak state secrets to the Bolsheviks. We've been trying for months to capture him, to no avail."
"Yeah?" said Alwine. "What's his name?"
"That's classified," said Rudolf, "I can't tell you without compromising our operation."
"Then how am I supposed to help you?"
"Just let me know if two suspicious men show up in your bar," said Rudolf, "It's my duty to ensure that he must never reach Eimerica. He stays here."
"It'll be interesting to see how he manages."
"Manages what?"
"His escape."
"But I just told you--"
"If this guy has eluded you for months, he'll probably get past you. You guys have probably been chasing him all over the Reich."
"Well, this is the end of the chase."
"Twenty thousand marks says it's not."
"Is that a serious bet?"
"I just paid out twenty thousand marks. I'd like to get them back."
"Make it ten thousand. I'm only a poor corrupt Angeloi."
Alwine nodded.
Rudolf nodded. "Done. No matter how clever he is, he still needs an exit visa. Or should I say, two."
"Why two?"
"Apparently the Resistance is helping him out; he's got a Resistance operative as an escort."
"He'll take one."
"I think not. I have seen the operative, and he never leaves his target. He did not leave him in Munich, or Marseilles, or Cordoba, or Tangiers."
"Maybe he's just a stupid grunt following orders," said Alwine.
"It doesn't matter," said Rudolf, "There's no exit visa for him."
"Ludwig, where'd you get the idea that I might be helping this criminal escape?"
"Because, my dear Alwine, I suspect that under your cynicism, you are at heart a sentimentalist."
Alwine laughed.
"Laugh if you will, but I am familiar with your record. Let me point out two items. You fought with the Paramaras against the Ethiopians, and you risked your neck in the Hispanian campaign..."
"And got paid well on both occasions," said Alwine.
"The winning side would have paid you much more," said Rudolf.
"Maybe," said Alwine, "Apparently you are determined to keep this man here."
"I've got orders," said Rudolf.
"Oh, I see," said Alwine, "Angeloi speak."
"You overestimate the influence of Goering and Angelos, Alwine," said Rudolf, "I do not interfere with them and they don't interfere with me. Here I'm master of of my fate. I'm captain of my--"
At that moment, an aide rushed into the cafe. "Schmidt is here, sir."
Rudolf nodded.
"Yeah, you were saying--" said Alwine.
"Excuse me for a moment," said Rudolf as he hurried in Schmidt's direction.
Rudolf called Karl over. "Karl, see to it that Herr Schmidt gets a good table - close to the ladies."
"I've already given him the best, Herr!" Karl said. "Though as an Angeloi he would have taken it anyways."
Rudolf beckoned for a local Mauretanian officer, who approached him and saluted.
"Take him quietly," Rudolf whispered, "Two guards at every door."
"Yes, sir," said the officer, "Everything's ready."
The officer saluted and went over to the gambling area, while Rudolf walked over to a table where Schmidt and several Angeloi officers were seated.
"Evening, gentlemen," he said.
"Good evening, Captain," said Schmidt. "Please, join us."
Rudolf sat down. "It's an honor to have you here, Obergruppenfuhrer."
To a waiter, Schmidt said, "Some Munich beer and caviar."
The waiter ran off.
"Very interesting club you got here," said Schmidt.
"Especially this evening, Obergruppenfuhrer," said Rudolf, "In just a minute you'll see the arrest of a prominent courier for the Resistance."
"I expected no less, Captain," said Schmidt.
Ullrich was so busy raking in a pile of chips he had just won at the roulette table that he didn't notice a firm hand close on his arm.
"You will come with me, Herr Ullrich," said the Mauretanian.
"Um, can I cash in my chips first?" asked Ullrich.
The officer nodded and followed him to the cashier. Ullrich handed his chips to the cashier, who handed him his money. He stuffed the money in his pockets, and when he withdrew his hand, he drew a small revolver and pointed it at the Mauretanian.
The Mairetanian lunged at Ullrich, and the gun went off. The officer clutched at his shoulder as women screamed and the patrons hid behind the tables. Ullrich sprinted for the door, but Alwine blocked his way.
"Alwine, help me!" Ullrich shouted.
"Don't be a fool," said Alwine, "You can't get away."
"Then hide me or something, quickly!" Ullrich shouted.
"Shut up," said Alwine.
Schmidt, Rudolf, and the Angeloi caught up and pinned Ullrich to the wall, slapping handcuffs on him and taking him away.
"Excellent, Captain," said Schmidt, "Very efficient and effective."
"When they come to get me, Alwine," said a random patron, "I hope you'll be more helpful!"
"I don't stick out my neck for anybody," replied Alwine, coldly.
She arrived in the main room, where the atmosphere was tense and several patrons were preparing to leave. Very calmly, she said, "I'm sorry about the disturbance, but it's been taken care of. Everything's fine. Just sit down and have a good time.
Enjoy yourself."
She glanced over at Samuel. "Alright, Sam..."
Samuel started playing again, followed by the band.
Rudolf called Alwine over to his table.
"Allow me to introduce our special guest tonight," said Rudolf, pointing at Schmidt, "Alwine, this is Obergruppenfuhrer Dietrich Schmidt of the Imperium Romanum, just arrived from Vienna."
"How do you do, Frau?" said Schmidt, kissing her hand.
"Oh, how do you do?" said Alwine, not impressed at all.
"Please join us." Schmidt pointed at an empty chair opposite them.
Alwine sat down in the chair, facing Rudolf and Schmidt.
"We're very honored tonight," said Rudolf, "Obergruppenfuhrer Schmidt is one of the reasons the Imperium enjoys the reputation it does today."
Alwine nodded.
Schmidt smiled. "You repeat Imperium as though you expected there to be others."
"Well, personally, Obergruppenfuhrer, I will take what comes," said Rudolf.
A waiter arrived and poured drinks for all of them.
"Do you mind if I ask a few questions?" asked Schmidt. "Unofficially, of course."
Alwine shrugged. "Make it official, if you like. Makes no difference to me."
"What's your nationality?" said Schmidt.
Alwine looked at him for a moment before replying. "I'm a businesswoman."
"That makes Alwine here a citizen of the world," chuckled Rudolf.
"I was born in Landsberg if that helps you," said Alwine, "And raised in Vienna."
"I understand you came here from Vienna at the time of the Occupation," said Schmidt, very amiably.
"That seems to be no secret," said Alwine.
"Are you one of those people who cannot
imagine the Angeloi in their beloved Vienna?"
"It's not particularly
my beloved Vienna," said Alwine.
"Can you imagine us in Constantinople?" Schmidt said with a slight laugh.
"Well, when you get back there, ask me again," said Alwine, "You weren't there long enough the last time for me to imagine anything."
Schmidt dug into the caviar. "How about New Peten? I heard you went on vacation there for your honeymoon and lived there a couple of years."
"There are certain sections of New Peten, Obergruppenfuhrer, that I would not advise you to try to invade."
"Who do you think'll win the war?"
"I haven't the slightest idea," said Alwine, "If I did I wouldn't be here running a bar."
"Alwine is completely neutral about everything," said Rudolf, "And that takes in the field of men too."
Schmidt took out a small black book and flipped through its pages. "You weren't always so carefully neutral, Alwine," he said, "We've got a complete dossier on you. 'Alwine Glienke, Roman. Age forty-one. Does not wish to return to Provincia Germania'."
He looked up from his book. "The reason is a bit vague, but we know what happened in Vienna that involved you, though nothing criminal--"
Rudolf looked over Schmidt's shoulder, trying to see what he was reading.
"Yes, we do know why you left Vienna," said Schmidt.
Alwine reached over and snatched the book from Schmidt's hands.
"Oh, don't worry," said Schmidt, "We're not going to broadcast it. We're the good guys. We're not evil."
"Are my eyes really that brown?" said Alwine.
"Forgive my curiosity, Frau Glienke," said Schmidt, "But needs must. The point is, an enemy of the Reich has come to Casablanca, and we are checking on anyone who can possibly be of help to us."
"My interest in this Resistance-protected criminal--" Alwine glanced in Rudolf's direction "--is only a sporting one."
"In this case, you've no sympathy for the fox," said Schmidt.
"Not particularly," said Alwine, "I understand the hound's point of view too."
"This man wants to sell himself out to the Soviets, leak our greatest secrets to Molotov and Trotsky, and allow those godless equalists to invade and oppress all Romans, just so he can save his skin and buy his precious loyalists a little more time than the rest of us," said Schmidt.
"Of course, one must admit he has great courage," said Rudolf, "Or stupid stubbornness."
"I'll admit he's very clever," said Schmidt, "Many times this man's slipped through our fingers. In Vienna he was raising hell. We are determined not to let him spread his chaos to the rest of the Reich."
Alwine rose from the table with a slight smile. "If you'll excuse me, gentlemen. Your business is politics. My business is my business."
"Good evening, Frau Glienke," said Schmidt.
"You see, you've got nothing to worry about," said Rudolf.
"Perhaps..." said Schmidt.
Meanwhile, Sam continued to play at the piano, playing some sentimental jazz piece. The patrons had resumed their chatter like nothing had happened. As Sam played he looked around carefully. Suddenly, as he looked towards the entrance, his playing faltered and then stopped altogether.
Two men in trenchcoats had just entered the room, one of them a tall man with a mustache and the other a slightly shorter man wearing glasses and a fedora. Several patrons turned to look at the newcomers, as if they recognized one of them, but after a couple seconds they turned away, seeing nothing of importance.
A waiter ran up to them. "Yes, Herr."
"I reserved a table," said the tall man, "Engelbert Dolfuss."
Engelbert looked around casually as the waiter searched for a table. His eyes settled on Sam, and her face registered a startled surprise for an instant.
"Yes, Herr Dolfuss," said the waiter, "Right this way."
Sam averted his gaze and resumed playing the piano.
The waiter took them to a table, passing Sam and the piano on the way.
"Two waters, please," said Engelbert, "We don't feel like drinking tonight."
"Yes, Herr." The waiter left.
To the other man, Engelbert said, "I don't see anybody looking like Ullrich."
"Are you sure?" whispered the other man. "I feel we should get out of here quickly."
"That would only draw attention to ourselves," said Engelbert, "Maybe he's just late."
"I hope so," said the other man.
Captain Rudolf approached their table, smiling. "Herr Engelbert, is it not?"
"Uh, yes," said Engelbert.
"I am Captain Rudolf, Prefect of Police."
"What do you want?" snapped Engelbert.
"To warmly welcome you to Casablanca!" said Rudolf. "It's not that often we get someone as well-known as you."
"Uh, thank you," said Engelbert, "Forgive me, but the present government in Berlin hasn't been so cordial. May I present Senator Otto von Habsburg?"
The other man glared at Engelbert, but he couldn't do much.
"A pleasure to meet you, Senator," said Rudolf, shaking his hand.
"You're very kind," said Otto.
"Mind if I sit with you?" Rudolf asked.
"Oh, please," said Engelbert, "Go ahead."
Rudolf sat down and called for a waiter. "Three of your best beers, put it on my bill."
"No, captain, that's not necessary--"
The waiter nodded and went away. "It's a little game I play," said Rudolf, "They put it on my bill, and I tear it up. Very cost-efficient and convenient."
Otto laughed.
"Say, Captain," said Engelbert, "The Malian playing the piano. He looks familiar..."
"Sam?" said Rudolf.
"Yeah," said Engelbert.
"He came from Vienna with Alwine," said Rudolf, "Used to be her butler when she was married."
"Alwine?" said Engelbert.
"Herr, did you not see the sign on the way in?" Rudolf said. "Alwine is, um..."
"Is what?" demanded Engelbert.
"She's not the kind of woman you'd want to be around," said Rudolf.
Schmidt walked over, and Otto saw Engelbert 's face pale, though nobody else noticed it.
"Excuse me," said Rudolf, "May I introduce Obergruppenfuhrer Dietrich Schmidt."
Schmidt bowed. "It is a pleasure to meet you. I have looked forward to this for a
long time."
He stood there, waiting for either of them to invite him to sit down. When it became clear nobody was going to do so, he seated himself.
"I should like to discuss some matters concerning your activities in Vienna," said Schmidt.
"This isn't a good time or place--" said Engelbert.
"Then let's arrange a better time and place--tomorrow at ten in the Prefect's office."
"Captain Rudolf," said Otto, "You have jurisdiction over this city, do you not? Is it
your order that we go to your office?"
"Let's call it a request," said Rudolf.
"Very well, then." Engelbert nodded.
The two Angeloi got up and left.
"A very clever tactical retreat," said Rudolf.
"Why don't we just arrest him now and just be done?" snapped Schmidt.
"He wouldn't cooperate with us in that case," said Rudolf, "Besides, that bar was just crawling with Resistance operatives. We'd hardly get the handcuffs on before they'd blast us to pieces."
Schmidt just growled.
When he was sure the Angeloi were out of hearing range; Engelbert spoke up. "This time they really mean to stop us. Why would Schmidt come all the way from Vienna to catch us?"
"I'm kind of nervous, Engelbert," said Otto.
"Hey, we got all the way here from Vienna without incident," said Engelbert, "We've been through worse in Vienna. The mission will succeed."
"They know who we are!" hissed Otto.
"Well, there's no use denying that, then," said Engelbert, "That would only make us more suspicious. Just act natural and play along. The Resistance will get us out of here, I'm sure of it."
As soon as Rudolf and Schmidt disappeared into another room, a man approached them.
"You're Dolfuss, aren't you?" said the man.
"Yeah," said Engelbert, "How did you know?"
"I'm with the Resistance," whispered the man, "I'm here to make sure you arrived on time."
"Where's Ullrich?" asked Otto.
"They just arrested him half an hour ago," said the man.
Engelbert took the shock silently. "I see."
"But the rest of us will still do as much as we can," said the man, "Tomorrow night there'll be a meeting. If you could come and give a speech or something--"
"I'm afraid that by then I'll be out of town," said Engelbert, "I have to leave tonight."
"The plane's been delayed, if you're wondering about that," said the man, "Because Ullrich's been compromised and the letters have gone missing, presumably in Angeloi hands."
Engelbert sighed. "Then we'll have to improvise. I might take you up on your offer."
"Alright, then," said the man. "If you need anything I'll be at the table in the corner."
He got up and left as Ivan approached them, drinks in hand.
Engelbert said to Ivan, "Hey, could you get the pianist to come over here?"
Ivan nodded. "I'll see what I can do."
He rushed off in Sam's direction and whispered something in his ear. The Malian looked up, startled, in Engelbert's direction. Then, understanding, he started wheeling the piano over to their table.
"Hello, Sam," said Engelbert, "It's been a long time."
"Herr Engelbert," said Sam, "I never thought I would be able to see you again. Lots of water under the bridge."
He sat down and got ready to play.
"Some of the old songs, my old friend," said Engelbert.
"Ja, Herr," said Sam, starting to play.
But he was nervous, waiting for some inspiration to hit him. When it finally came, though, he did his best to hammer out a good melody.
"Where's Alwine?" Engelbert asked.
"Don't know," said Sam, "She's been out all night."
Engelbert smiled. "When'll she be back?"
"Not tonight," said Sam, "She went home to the kids."
"Does she always leave so early?" Engelbert asked.
"Her new man demands it," said Sam, "He goes to the Red Toucan every night and comes home demanding dinner all ready to go--"
"Sam, you used to be a better liar," said Engelbert.
"Leave her alone," said Sam, "You're bad luck to her."
"Sam," said Engelbert softly, "Play it once, for old time's sake."
"I don't know what you mean," said Sam.
"Play it," said Engelbert, "'As Time Goes By'."
"I can't remember it, Herr Engelbert!" Sam replied.
Of course he remembered. Engelbert knew that Sam didn't want to play it. The Malian was getting really scared now.
"Fine, I'll sing it for you," said Engelbert, and he started to hum.
Sam started playing it very softly.
"Sing it," said Engelbert.
Sam started singing the tune.
At that moment, the entrance to the gambling room swing open, and out stormed Alwine, completely livid. Apparently she had heard the music, just as Engelbert intended.
"SAM!" Alwine shouted. "I THOUGHT I TOLD YOU TO NEVER PLAY THAT BLASTED SONG! HOW MANY TIMES DO I HAVE TO TELL YOU--"
She stopped abruptly. Her rant suddenly ended, and she froze in her tracks. Sam looked over his shoulder at Alwine and stopped playing. Engelbert knew why immediately. He knew who he would see. He turned slowly, holding his breath.
Alwine was hardly breathing now. She was in shock as she stared at Engelbert and remembered. She started moving again, straight for the piano. Engelbert stared directly back at her. Sam was just plain terrified, as if remembering what happened all those years ago. He got up, threw his stool on top of the piano, and quickly wheeled it away. Engelbert didn't notice, still looking at Alwine.
Meanwhile, Senator Otto, who had in that time wandered off to the bar, returned, accompanied by Rudolf.
"Well, you were asking about Alwine, and here she is," said Rudolf, "Herr, may I present...um..."
"Hello, Engelbert," said Alwine.
"Hello, Alwine," said Engelbert, holding his breath.
He offered her his hand, and she took it.
"I see you two already know each other," said Rudolf.
Neither of them responded.
"Well, then," said Rudolf, "Perhaps you also--"
"This is my friend, Senator Otto von Habsburg," interrupted Engelbert.
"How do you do." Otto kissed Alwine's hand.
"How do you do," replied Alwine, still in shock.
"Apparently one hears a great deal about Alwine in Casablanca," said Otto.
"And Engelbert Dolfuss everywhere," said Alwine.
"Won't you join us for a drink?" Otto said, causing Engelbert to mentally freak out again.
"Oh, Alwine here never--" began Rudolf.
"Thanks," said Alwine, "I think I'll join."
"You're breaking a precedent, Frau," said Rudolf, calling over a waiter.
"This is a most interesting cafe," said Engelbert, "And I congratulate you for it."
"And I congratulate you too, for your work," said Alwine.
"Alwine, you're becoming quite human," said Rudolf, "I suppose we have to thank you for that, Herr."
"Uh, Engelbert, I hate to say this but it's getting kind of late," said Otto.
"So it is," said Rudolf, checking his watch, "We have a curfew in place here, unlike in the rest of West Africa. It would be rather awkward for the Chief of Police to be caught drinking after hours and have to fine himself."
"I hope we haven't overstayed our welcome," said Engelbert, motioning for a waiter.
"Oh, not at all," said Alwine.
The waiter handed a check to Engelbert. "Your check, sir."
Alwine took the check. "No, it's my party."
"Another precedent broken," noted Rudolf, "This has been a most interesting evening. I'll call you guys a cab."
They got up from the table. "We'll come again," said Otto.
"Any time," said Alwine.
Engelbert held out his hand. "Tell the kids I said hello."
Alwine took his hand. "I will."
"There's still nobody in the world who can play 'As Time Goes By' like Samuel," he said.
"He hasn't played it in a long time," said Alwine.
"Goodnight," said Engelbert.
"Goodnight," said Otto.
"Goodnight," said Alwine.
Engelbert and Otto headed for the door, Rudolf following them. They emerged on the curbside, where Rudolf blew a whistle to call a cab. After a minute, a cab pulled up in front of them, and Engelbert and Otto got in.
"Tomorrow at ten, in my office," reminded Rudolf, "Please show up."
"Oh, we'll be there," said Engelbert.
They said goodnight to each other, and the cab sped off away from Alwine's.
"Very puzzling woman, this Alwine," said Otto, "What sort is she?"
Engelbert didn't look at him. He made an effort to keep his voice steady. "I really can't say, but put it bluntly, she's my wife. Or was."
---
As your AAR haven`t reached yet 22 of June,1941,may I ask:Angelos will attack Commies or Commies will make Red Alert against any Barbarossa(pardon,Theodorich) plans?
P.S.:Another type of R
We're almost to 22 June. You'll see what happens when we get there. I can't say more though.
