Page 9 of Geist Fleisch
The audience, Callum’s table included, lost their minds,Hier ist’s richtig!fulfilling its promise at last. The only table not getting into the fun was Rohm’s. The man’s piggish eyes fixed on the scowl that darkened the face of the dark-haired soldier… the one who’d hit Robert, Callum guessed. The blond, for his part, seemed bored with it all as his eyes followed a waitress carrying a tray of schnapps shots. Or was it a waiter? The blond leered in a way that suggested he didn’t care either way. At last, the darker one got up and with a small, reluctant nod to his superior, made to leave. The blond tried to dissuade him, but Rohm waved them both away, focusing once more on the show. Callum felt something in his gut unclench as the two went to leave, but just as they reached the door, both turned. Whatever had relaxed a second ago within Callum now sank as both men stared at his table. Then, with as little warning, they turned and left the club without a word.
As the emcee took the stage again, Callum kept his eyes on the door as if expecting the men to return, perhaps with company. But they didn’t. When he turned around, Robert and Jacqueline were standing to leave.
“You’re not staying for the next act?” Anne asked them. “Oh pooh, that’s no fun.”
“Urgent business elsewhere,ma chérie.” Jacqueline kissed her on the cheek.
“Callum,” Robert said coolly, shaking his hand before giving Anne a farewell kiss as well.
“Hope to see you again soon,” Jacqueline said, kissing him just short of his cheek in that weird way Europeans did. No kisses were exchanged with Frank.
“Did you say something to upset them?” Anne asked, watching the pair leave.
Frank shook his head. “Those two keep their own hours. So, Callum, how about that tour? I believe there’s one at the Institute on Saturday.”
Callum took a long draw of his beer as a pair of surely-not-women took to the stage playing clarinets. “I… I don’t know. I don’t know much about that sort of thing.”
Frank leaned forward and put a gentle hand on his. “My friend, that’s the whole point.”
“All right then. I suppose.”
“Splendid.” Frank jotted down the address on a white card and slid it to him. “Three o’clock, and don’t be late. This is still Germany. They’re a permissive lot, but punctual.”
Callum took the address, after which the man had scrawledTiergartenin parenthesis, and tucked it into his pocket. He could feel Rohm’s eyes on him again. “If you don’t mind, I think I’ll… Anne?”
“Oh cousin, really? We’ve only just arrived.”
He shook his head, feeling all but invisible as she bopped along to the jaunty tune.
Frank offered him a sympathetic smile. “I’ll see that Anne pours herself safely into a taxi, don’t worry. I know the nightlife can take some getting used to. But we’ll see you again?”
“Yes, Saturday?” Callum hoped he didn’t seem too eager, but he had been invited.
“Saturday it is,” Frank answered with a satisfied nod. He shook Callum’s hand warmly as they stood up, then leaned across the table and kissed his cheeks three times.
Callum straightened his spine, a little startled.
“Until then,” Frank said warmly, resuming his seat and turning back to the show.
CHAPTER THREE
Callum gathered his coat at the entrance and stepped out onto the street, unable to remember where they’d left the U-Bahn. Berlin was as bad as London for disorienting streets, and now it was snowing, nothing looked the same. Had they crossed the main street? Which one was that? He picked the quietest option and started walking. He needed to be away from people for a while, and if he walked an hour or more in the wrong direction, who cared? Anne would be fine. He’d be out from under Rohm’s gaze. He ignored the laughter that spilled from one of the nearby pubs as a man disappeared inside it. All illegal, but all thriving. Unlike the busy-bodies back home, he guessed the Germans had bigger problems than trying to police fairy boys.
He spied a group of three more Brownshirts a few doors up, coming his way. With no particular destination, he turned up a side street, then into a quieter laneway after that, only to hear the muffled groans of two men enjoying one another in the darkness. The sound of faint whimpering in German suggested a good time in full swing, at least, until one stared right at him, bright eyes filled with lust. But it was more than that. The man’s expression bordered on a loss of control, like whatever he was doing with his alley companion had awakened in him some uncontrollable animal instinct to mate… or feed.
Callum stumbled backward, almost falling in the snow as he recognised Robert. He saw the stain across Robert’s mouth, the long, sharp teeth that withdrew from the neck of the dark-haired SA thug, whose head lolled toward him in a half-drunken stupor. The steady drip, drip into the snow left no doubt, the man was bleeding from the neck.
Callum turned and ran, only to see Jacqueline a little way up the lane, the slumped body of an SA man at her feet. She tilted her head, at last giving him a full view of her face, also stained with blood.
“Darling,” she murmured. “Leaving us so soon?”
He bolted for the street from which he’d come. The trio of SA shouted something at him as he rushed past, but there was no catching up to him. Callum could run, snow or no snow. Perhaps the three men would share the fate of their comrades. But what was that, exactly? What had he just seen? Was it a trick, or some silly Berlin sex game they’d played on him?
Silly Berlin sex game? Was he going mad? He knew blood when he saw it!
“Callum!”
He spun to face the voice, but there was no-one there. Yet, he’d as good as felt it, inches from his ear, almost inside his head! They’d find him. There was no such thing as ‘fast enough.’ Somehow, he knew they’d find him.
