to Jurgen in his black suit and tie she knew this was the last time she'd see him. Still, she said, "Well, look who's here. And you brought a friend." She called, "Mom?" and Gladys came over with her hand extended and held high, in case the German officer wanted to kiss her hand; he didn't, but seemed pleased to meet her. Gladys said they weren't expecting to entertain this evening but was delighted they'd dropped in. She took Otto by the arm to the kitchen asking what he'd like to drink, a martini?
Otto said, "Really? Would you have bourbon?"
Shemane watched Jurgen turn off the lamps in the living room. He came over to her still at the front door and flicked the switch to turn off the porch light.
She said, "I'll never see you again, will I?"
He looked through the glass pane in the door to see empty pavement in the streetlight.
"I'm going to tell you again," Jurgen said, "I'm in love with you. I don't want to leave, but have no choice if I want to stay alive."
Shemane said, "You're afraid they'll shoot you? They won't even know you're gone till the morning."
"We stole a truck and left it in town."
"You drove out of the camp? How?"
He said, "Wait," raising his hand, hi s f ingers touching her lips. "I don't have time t o e xplain. But, please, if you and your mother wil l g o up to your rooms and put on your night clothes, leave the lamp on by your bed--"
"How would they know it was you in the truck?"
"They don't. But when they tell Carl, and they wil l b ecause he's still here, at his father's, Carl will think of me right away."
It was almost 10:30.
*
Carl rang the bell at a quarter past eleven.
He turned to watch Gary Marion pull up behind the Chevy in the street light, Gary driving an olive-drab sedan borrowed from the POW camp motor pool. Now he was coming this way and Carl motioned him to go around back.
Shemane opened the door holding her silk wrap closed, her blonde hair hanging across her eye like Veronica Lake. He waited for her to turn on the porch light.
Carl...?"
"I got you out of bed, didn't I?"
"I fell asleep reading Dawn Powell. I like her, but she uses an awful lot of words the way she writes. Shemane yawned and said, "Mom and I were up late last night."
He waited for her to ask him in, but she didn't: He waited to hear what else she might say ..
"What's going on?"
"Jurgen's out again."
She said, "He is? sounding surprised. Are you sure?"
"A prisoner wearing a suit of clothes drove off in the truck that brings the movies. He told a story at the gate and was out.
She said, "You mean you think it might be Jurgen, or you want it believe it is.
I can see him doing it, talking his wa y o ut.
Shemane kept hold of her wrap, her fist tight in the red silk, not anything like the other night, letting her jacket come open as she made their drinks. He stopped counting on Shemane asking him in. Yawning again, covering her mouth and saying excuse me. She did look beat.
Still, he hesitated.
She said, "Are you looking for help or whaT?"
"Not if you haven't seen him."
"Wouldn't I tell you if I did? She said, "Carl, I thought you and I were on the same side when it comes to Jurgen. What do you want to do, come in and look around the house?
Not if you tell me he isn't here.
She said, It's up to you, Carl, Veronica Lake in the dim foyer. Do what you want.
*
Carl stood with Gary by their cars, Gary saying he looked in the windows back there but didn't see anybody. If he isn't here, it must be some other POW broke out."
"I want to be sure," Carl said. "Park down the street and keep your eyes on the house." "What am I expecting to happen?"
"He's in the house or he's on his way here, or it was somebody else who escaped.
But something tells you he's here, huh? Is it your instinct or your years of experience?
Carl said, Gary, all we're doing is covering our butts. I'm going back to the camp. Watch the house-- you see anyone go inside, drive over to police headquarters and call me at the camp. You
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