Walther Litvak stayed in Neuchâtel.
«Come inside, quickly,» he said to Helden. «Let me help you, I have an office here.»
He removed her coat and half carried her into a room with an examination table.
«I was shot.» It was all Helden could think of to say.
Litvak placed her on the table and removed her skirt and half slip. «Don’t waste your strength trying to talk.» He scissored the bandage and studied the wound, then took a hypodermic needle from a sterilizer. «I’m going to let you sleep for a few minutes.»
«You can’t. There isn’t time! I have to tell you…»
«I said a few minutes,» interrupted the doctor, inserting the needle into Helden’s arm.
She opened her eyes, the shapes around her out of focus, a numb sensation in her leg. As her vision cleared, she saw the doctor across the room. She tried to sit up; Litvak heard her and turned.
«These are antibiotics,» he said. He was holding a bottle of pills. «Every two hours for a day, then every four. What happened? Tell me quickly. I’ll go down to the cottage and take care of things.»
«The cottage? You knew?»
«While you were under, you talked; people generally do after trauma. You repeated ‘Nachrichtendienst’ several times. Then ‘Johann.’ I assume that’s Von Tiebolt, and you’re his sister—the one who’s been with Falkenheim. It’s happening, isn’t it? The inheritors are closing ranks in Geneva.»
«Yes.»
«I thought as much this morning. The news bulletins from the Negev are horrible, They found out, God knows how.»
«What bulletins?»
«Har Sha’alav.» The doctor gripped the bottle; veins swelled on his forearm. «A raid. Houses bombed, people massacred, fields burnt to the ground. The death count isn’t complete yet, but the estimates exceed one hundred and seventy. Men mostly, but women and children too.»
Helden closed her eyes; there were no words. Litvak went on.
«To a man, the elders were killed, butchered in the gardens. They say it was the work of terrorists, of the Rache. But that’s not true. It’s Wolfsschanze. Rache fighters would never attack Har Sha’alav; they know what would happen. Jews from every kibbutz, every commando unit, would go after them.»
«Gerhardt said you were supposed to cable Har Sha’alav,» whispered Helden.
Lirvak’s eyes clouded. «There’s nothing to cable now. There’s no one left. Now, tell me what happened down at the lake.»
She did. When she had finished, the doctor helped her off the table and carried her into the large Alpine living room. He lowered her to the couch and summarized.
«Geneva’s the battleground, and there’s not an hour to be lost. Even if Har Sha’alav could be reached, it would be useless. But there is a man from Har Sha’alav in London; he’s been ordered to stay there. He followed Holcroft to Portsmouth. He was the one who took the photograph from Holcroft’s pocket.»
«It was a picture of Beaumont,» said Helden. «ODESSA.»
«Wolfsschanze,» corrected Litvak. «A Sonnenkind. One of thousands, but also one of the few to work with von Tiebolt.»
Helden raised herself, frowning. «The records. Beaumont’s records. They didn’t make sense.»
«What records?»
She told the angry doctor about the obscure and contradictory information found in Beaumont’s naval records. And of the similar dossier belonging to Beaumont’s second-in-command, Ian Llewellen.
Litvak wrote down the name on a note pad. «How convenient. Two men of Wolfsschanze commanding an electronic-espionage vessel. How many more are there like them? In how many places?»
«Llewellen was quoted in the papers the other day. When Beaumont and Gretchen—» She could not finish.
«Don’t dwell on it,» said the doctor. «The Sonnenkinder have their own rules. Llewellen is a name to add to the list that must be found in Geneva. Gerhardt was right: Above all, that list must be found. It’s as vital as stopping the money. In some ways, more vital.»
«Why?»
«The funds are a means to the Fourth Reich, but the people are that Reich; they’ll be there whether or not the funds are dispersed. We’ve got to find out who they are.»
Helden leaned back. «My … Johann von Tiebolt can be killed. So, too, can Kessler and … if it’s necessary … even Noel. The money can be stopped. But how can we be sure the list will be found?»
«The man from Har Sha’alav in London will have ideas. He has many talents.» Litvak glanced briefly away. «You should know, because you’ll have to work with him. He’s called a killer and a terrorist. He doesn’t consider himself either, but the laws he’s broken and the crimes he’s committed would tend to dispute that judgment.» The doctor glanced at his watch. «It’s three minutes of nine; he lives less than a mile from Heathrow. If I can contact him, he can be in Geneva by midnight. Do you know where Holcroft is staying?»
«Yes. At the d’Accord. You understand, he knows nothing. He believes deeply in what he’s doing. He thinks it’s right.»
«I understand. Unfortunately, that may be irrelevant in terms of his life. The first thing, however, is to reach him.»
«I said I’d call him tonight.»
«Good. Let me help you to the telephone. Be careful what you say. He’ll be watched; his line will be tapped.» Litvak helped her to the table where the phone was.
«Hôtel d’Accord. Bonsoir,» said the operator.
«Good evening. Mr. Noel Holcroft, please?»
«Monsieur Holcroft?…» The operator hesitated. «Just one minute, madame.»
There was a silence, a click, and a man spoke. «Mrs. Holcroft?»
«What?»
«This is Mrs. Holcroft, is it not?»
Helden was surprised. Something was wrong; the switchboard had not even tried to ring Noel’s room. «You were expecting me, then?» she asked.
«But of course, madame,» replied the desk clerk with confidentiality. «Your son was most generous. He said to tell you it’s imperative you remain out of sight, but you are to leave a telephone number where he can reach you.»
«I see. Just one minute, please.» Helden cupped the phone and turned to Litvak. «They think I’m Mrs. Holcroft. He’s paid them to take a number where he can reach her.»
The doctor nodded and walked quickly to a desk. «Keep talking. Say you want to make sure this number will not be given to anyone else. Offer money. Anything to stall them.» Litvak took out a worn address book.
«Before I give you a number, I’d like to be certain …» Helden paused; the desk clerk swore on his mother’s grave he would give the number only to Holcroft. The doctor rushed back to the table, a number written on a slip of paper. Helden repeated it to the desk clerk and hung up. «Where is this?» she asked Litvak.
«It reaches an empty apartment on the rue de la Paix, but the apartment is not at the address listed with the telephone exchange. Here it is.» Litvak wrote the address beneath the number. «Memorize them both.»
«I will.»
«Now, I’ll try our man in London,» said the doctor, heading for the staircase. «I have radio equipment here. It links me with a routine-mobile-telephone service.» He stopped on the bottom step. «I’ll get you to Geneva. You won’t be able to move around much, but the wound isn’t deep; your stitches will hold under the pressure of the bandage, and you’ll have the chance to reach Holcroft. I hope you do, and I hope you’re successful. Noel Holcroft must walk away from Von Tiebolt and Kessler. If he fights you, if he even hesitates, he must be killed.»