The Ring by Danielle Steel

the household almost pretended that Kassandra's rooms were no longer a part of the Von Gotthard house. Papa. It's true. He would be safe there. And I could tidy up again after he's gone. No one would ever know.
    Walmar paused for what seemed an endless moment. The last time he had been in that apartment, his wife had been lying dead in a bathtub filled with blood. He had never entered her rooms again. He couldn't bear the pain of those last memories, that bruised face and those desperate eyes, the breasts shattered from the belt buckle of the Nazi who had almost raped her. I suppose there is no choice. He said it with an agony that only Max understood. They both knew what the Nazis were capable of.
    I'm sorry to be a problem for you, Walmar.
    Don't be ridiculous. We want to help you. And then, with a small wintry smile, Perhaps one day you will help us.
    There was a long silence in the room then and at last Max spoke. Walmar, do you really think of going?
    The older man looked pensive. I'm not sure I could. I'm more visible than you are. They watch me. They know me. They need me more than they need you. I am a source of funds to them. The Tilden Bank is important to the Reich. It is the albatross around my neck, but it is also my salvation. One day it may prove to be the gun held to my head. But if I have to, I would do the same as you are doing. Ariana was shocked to hear him say it. She had never suspected that her father thought one day to flee. And then, as though by exact prearrangement, Berthold knocked and announced dinner, and the three of them left the room in silence.

Chapter 9

    Walmar von Gotthard tiptoed silently through his own house and waited in the front hall. He had warned Max Thomas to come barefoot through the garden. It would make less noise than walking on the gravel in his shoes. And he had given him his own key to the front gate. Max had left them around eleven and now it was a few minutes before three. The moon was round and full and it was easy to see him, running quickly across the expanse of lawn. The two men exchanged no greeting, only curt nods as Max Thomas carefully wiped off his feet with his socks. The dirt from the flower beds would have left tracks on the white marble floor. Walmar was pleased with Max's clear thinking. He was a different man now than the one who had sat sobbing and broken in his study only ten hours before. Now that Max Thomas was fleeing, his very survival would depend on his quick wits and cool head.
    The two men walked rapidly up the main staircase and in a brief moment reached the door at the end of the long hall. For an instant Walmar paused there, waiting, as though not sure whether he should go in. But Ariana had been waiting for them and now, sensing their presence, she opened the door a crack to peek. Seeing Max's intent face in the doorway, she opened the door wider to let them in, but Walmar only shook his head as he stood there, as though he could not yet force himself to go in. Max quickly entered. Perhaps it was time for Walmar to open the doors again; perhaps, like Max, it was time for him to forge ahead.
    He closed the door soundlessly behind him and followed as Ariana beckoned them into the small room that had been her mother's study, now faded into a still softer pink. The chaise longue still stood in the corner, and Ariana had put warm blankets on it so Max could sleep there.
    She put a finger to her lips and whispered softly. I thought if he slept there he'd be safer. Should anyone look in, they won't see him from the bedroom, Her father nodded and Max looked at him gratefully, but there were lines of fatigue crowded round his eyes. Walmar looked at him one last time, nodded, and then left the room with Ariana following quickly behind. Walmar had promised that he would get the papers as quickly as possible. He hoped for Max's sake to have them by the next night.
    Ariana and her father left each other in the hallway with their own thoughts and no words.