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Hessinger made the translation.
“Tell him I’m glad he made it through the war,” Cronley said, and then asked, “How are we fixed for time, Sergeant?”
Hessinger looked at his watch.
“Sir, we’re going to have to get on the road,” Hessinger replied, and then told Luther the lieutenant was glad that he had made it through the war.
“Tell him we have to leave,” Cronley ordered.
When Hessinger had done so, and Luther had replied, he made that unnecessary translation:
“He said he’s sorry to hear that, but understands. He says he’s very happy with your mother’s gifts, and that he hopes this will not be the last time you come to Strasbourg.”
“Tell him that if my mother sends some more things, I’ll see that he gets them,” Cronley said, and put out his hand to Luther.
“And where will you go from Salzburg?” Luther asked.
Hessinger looked to Cronley for permission to answer. Cronley nodded, hoping Luther didn’t see him.
“Vienna,” Hessinger said, and then, “He wanted to know where we’re going from Salzburg. I told him. I hope that’s all right.”
“Sure. Why not?”
Frau Stauffer said “Danke schön” when she shook Cronley’s hand, and looked as if she wanted to kiss him.
He smiled at her and walked to and out the door.
The Stauffers waved as they drove off.
[THREE]
When Sergeant Finney pulled the Ford up behind the ambulance, another of Tiny’s Troopers—this one a corporal—got out of it and walked to the car.
Finney rolled the window down.
“We’re through here. Go get Sergeant Graham,” he ordered. “He’s somewhere behind the house.”
“You got it, Sarge,” the corporal said, and took off at a trot.
“Tell me, Sergeant Finney,” Cronley said, “now that you are a member of DCI-Europe, what is your professional assessment of Herr Stauffer?”
Finney thought it over for a moment, and then said, “That Kraut is one lying motherfucker.”
Cronley didn’t reply for a moment, then, coldly furious, said softly, “Sergeant, if you ever say that—or something like that—in my hearing again, you’ll spend the rest of your time in Germany as a private walking around Kloster Grünau with a Garand on your shoulder.”
“Yes, sir,” Finney said, and then, “Captain, I’m sorry. I guess I just forgot he’s your cousin.”
“That’s not what I’m talking about,” Cronley said. “My lying Kraut kinsman doubtless has many faults, but I don’t think we have any reason to suspect that he ever had incestuous relations with his mother.”
“Sorry, Captain.”
“You might want to pass the word around that that phrase is strengstens verboten. It turns my stomach.”
“Jawohl, Herr Kapitän.”
“And your take on Luther Stauffer, Mr. Hessinger?”
“The question is not whether he was lying to us, but why,” Hessinger said. “I think we should find out why.”
