A Small Death in lisbon Read Online Free PDF

she'd noticed the tastes of her clients had changed. Normally, these days, as she'd found out to her cost, to include pain—both inflicting it and, perhaps to redress the balance, receiving it. And then there was one man who'd come and asked of her something that even she didn't know whether she'd be able to supply. He was such a quiet, insignificant, enclosed man, you wouldn't have thought...
    There was a knock at the door. She crushed her cigarette, threw off the blankets and tried to plump some life into her blonde hair but lost heart when she caught sight of herself in the mirror with no make-up. She refolded the dressing gown across herself, pulled the belt tight and went to open the door.
    'Klaus,' she said, producing a smile. 'I wasn't expecting you.'
    Felsen pulled her over the threshold and kissed her hard on the mouth, desperate after two days in the barracks. His hand slid down to her lower back. Her fists came up and she pushed herself away from his chest.
    'You're wet,' she said, 'and I've only just woken up.'
    'So?'
    She went back inside and hung up his hat and coat and led him back to her study. He followed with his slight limp. She never used the living room, she preferred small rooms.
    'Coffee?' she asked, drifting over to the kitchen.
    'I was thinking...'
    'The real thing. And brandy?'
    He shrugged and went into the study. He sat on the client side of the desk, lit a cigarette and picked the flakes of tobacco off his tongue. Eva came in with the coffee, two cups, a bottle and glasses. She stole one of his cigarettes which he lit for her.
    'I was wondering where that was,' she said, tugging the lighter out of his grip, annoyed.
    She was wearing lipstick now and had brushed her hair. She pulled the telephone plug out of the wall, so that they could talk privately.
    'Where've you been?' she asked.
    'Busy.'
    'Trouble at the works?'
    'I'd have preferred that.'
    She poured the coffee and tipped some brandy into hers. Felsen stopped her doing the same to his.
    'After,' he said. 'I want to enjoy the coffee. They've been making me drink tea for two days.'
    'Who's they?'
    'The SS.'
    'They're so brutal those boys,' she said, irony on automatic, unsmiling. 'What do the SS want from a sweet little Swabian peasant like you?'
    The smoke curled under the art deco lamp. Felsen tilted the shade downwards.
    'They're not saying, but it feels like a job.'
    'Lots of questions about your pedigree?'
    'I told them my father ploughed the strong German soil with his bare hands. They liked it.'
    'Did you tell diem about your foot?'
    'I said my father dropped a plough on it.'
    'Did they laugh?'
    'It's not a very humorous atmosphere down there.'
    He finished his coffee and poured brandy over the dregs.
    'Do you know someone called Gruppenführer Lehrer?' asked Felsen.
    'SS-Gruppenführer Oswald Lehrer,' she said, becoming very still. 'Why?'
    'I'm playing cards with him tonight.'
    'I've heard he's in charge of running the SS or rather the KZs as a business ... making them pay for themselves. Something like that.'
    'You know everybody, don't you?'
    'That's my business,' she said. 'I'm surprised you haven't heard of him. He's been in the club. This one and the old one.'
    'I have. Of course I have,' he said, but he hadn't.
    Felsen's mind raced. KZs. KZs. What did that mean? Were they going to assign him some cheap concentration camp labour? Switch his factory over to munitions production? No. Job. It was for a job. He felt the cold in his bones suddenly. They weren't going to make him run a KZ, were they?
    'Drink some brandy,' said Eva, sitting on his lap. 'Stop guessing. You've got no idea.'
    She ran her fingers over his bristly head and thumbed one of his cheekbones as if he was a child with a mark. She tilted his head and planted some fresh lipstick on his mouth.
    'Stop thinking,' she said.
    He slipped a large hand up under her armpit and cupped one of her firm, braless breasts. He eased another hand under the hemline of the slip. She