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“I don’t think I’ll ever forget it,” Netty said.
The colonel took a sip of coffee and thought, Which tells us that whatever is bothering her happened while she was at lunch.
“Who all was there?” Lustrous asked as he walked back behind his desk.
“Well, Frauburgermeister Liptz, of course,” Netty said. “And Pastor Dannberg of Saint Johan’s. And Frau Erika von und zu Gossinger.”
Inge Liptz, Lustrous knew, was the wife of Fulda’s mayor. Pastor Dannberg was a tiny little man who ran with an iron hand not only Saint Johan’s Church but the Evangalische —Protestant—communities of the area as well. Frau Erika von und zu Gossinger was the only daughter—sort of the old maid aunt, Lustrous thought privately—of the Gossinger family, who owned, among a good deal else, three of the newspapers serving the area, the Gossingerbrau Brewery, and a good deal of farmland.
Lustrous had been surprised when Netty had gotten the invitation to the House in the Woods. Although he and the Old Man had been friends before he killed himself on the autobahn, there had never been an invitation to the house for Netty. The Old Man’s wife was dead, his only son had never married, and the daughter, if she entertained socially, did not, so far as Lustrous knew, ever invite Americans.
“That’s surprising,” Lustrous said. “What was the invitation all about?”
Netty did not reply.
“Just the five of you?” he asked.
“That was it, Fred,” Netty said. “Inge, the Pastor and Frau Erika, Elaine and me.”
“Well, what did you think of the House in the Woods?” he asked.
“I’m trying to frame my thoughts, Fred,” Netty said, a little impatiently.
“Sorry.”
“Lovely lunch,” Netty said. “Roast boar. Her dining room overlooks the border. While we were eating, two of your patrols rolled by. Frau Erika showed me what used to be their property on the other side of the fence.”
“I’ve been up there. The last time was last year, with her father, when we put the radio link in?”
“I remember,” Netty said, somewhat impatiently. “Okay, here we go.” She went into her purse and came out with a photograph and handed it to her husband.
“What am I looking at?” Fred Lustrous inquired.
“One of our love children,” Netty said, bitterly.
“Really?” he asked.
As General George S. Patton used to say, Colonel Lustrous thought, “A soldier who won’t fuck won’t fight.” And that’s probably true. But why can’t the irresponsible sonsofbitches use a condom?
“According to Frau Erika,” Netty said, “the father is a chopper jockey who was here a dozen years ago, just long enough to sow his seed.”
“How does she know that?”
“That’s Karl Wilhelm von und zu Gossinger,” Netty said. “Frau Erika’s only child. The ‘Frau’ is apparently honorific.”
“Let me make sure I have this right,” Lustrous said. “This kid is Frau Erika’s kid, and his father is an American?”
“You got it,” she said. “And she wants you to find him.”
“Oh, Jesus!”
“As quickly as possible,” Netty said. “And, of course, as quietly and discreetly as possible.”
“Why? After all this time?”
“Frau Erika doesn’t have much time. She has, she said, between two and four months. Pancreatic cancer, inoperable. She’s already taking medicine for the pain.”
“This whole thing sounds . . . unbelieveable,” Lustrous said.
