The English Assassin   ::   Silva Daniel

“Why does no one talk about it?”

“Why should we talk about it?It’s in the past. Nothing can be done to change it.”

“But they were killed. They died because of someone in this village.”

“They were here illegally. They came without permission. And besides, Gerhardt, we didn’t kill them. It was the Nazis who murdered them. Not us!”

“But Papa-”

“Enough, Gerhardt! You asked me if it was true, and I gave you an answer. You are never to discuss it again.”

“Why, Papa?”

His father did not answer him. But even then Gerhardt Peterson knew the answer. He was not to discuss the matter further because in Switzerland, one doesn’t discuss unpleasant matters from the past.

PETERSON awoke to another pail of icy water. He opened his eyes and was immediately blinded by a searing white light. Squinting, he saw two figures standing over him, the little troll-like man with the bucket, and the kinder-looking soul who had carried him to the van in Zurich after he had been drugged by the woman.

“Wake up!”

The troll threw more freezing water onto Peterson. His neck jerked violently, and he cracked his head against the wall. He lay on the floor, drenched, shivering.

The troll tromped up the stairs. The meeker one squatted on his haunches and looked at him sadly. Peterson, slipping back into unconsciousness, confused reality with his dreams. To Peterson the little man was the Jew from his village whose family had been expelled to France.

“I’m sorry,” groaned Peterson, his jaw trembling with cold.

“Yes, I know,” said the man. “I know you’re sorry.”

Peterson began to cough, a retching cough that filled his mouth with phlegm and fluid.

“You’re going to see the big man now, Gerhardt. This will only hurt a little, but it will clear your head.” Another injection; this time in the arm, delivered with clinical precision. “You mustn’t have a foggy head when you talk to the big man, Gerhardt. Are you feeling better? Are the cobwebs beginning to clear?”

“Yes, I think so.”

“That’s good. You mustn’t have cobwebs in your head when you talk to the big man. He wants to know everything that you know. He needs you sharp as a tack.”

“I’m thirsty.”

“I don’t doubt it. You’ve been a very busy boy the past few days. A very naughty boy too. I’m sure the big man will give you something to drink if you cooperate with him.