Dead Man's Tale Read Online Free PDF Page B

Czech had been the most valuable and courageous, for he worked inside the enemy’s camp, in the enemy’s own uniform.
    Hacha had liked Oosterdijk, and after the war he had settled there. In more ways than one, it was whispered in the town. As for Katrina’s true mother, one had only to think of the mayor’s wife, with her visits to Joost’s farm and her gifts and her concern for the little one’s welfare.…
    Milo Hacha had fled barely in time. Oosterdijk, of course, supposed him to have died. But dead men do not come in the stillness of night, stealthily, to clasp a seven-year-old child in a living embrace and utter a choked good-bye.
    Katrina had known him as “Uncle” Hacha. Old Joost she had called “Grandfather,” as she still did.
    He knew what they had begun to say about him, of course. He was getting old, growing soft in the head. He did not mind. It made things easier. His only fear was that Katrina would be taken away from him.
    The years passed, and the Englishman had come for Katrina, and Old Joost had strangled him.
    Now, on a night like the night he had taken a life. Old Joost sat smoking his pipe, remembering.
    A car stopped on the road outside the house.
    Old Joost waited motionless on his hard-backed chair. He sat facing the door. He sucked at his pipe once more, but it had gone out. He thought very quickly, confusedly, of his eyes, Milo Hacha, Katrina, the Englishman, Hilversum, Hilversum’s wife.
    There was a knock at the door.
    Only then did Old Joost get up. He went to the door.
    â€œJa?”
    â€œJoost? Let me in.”
    It was Johanna Hilversum’s voice. He unbolted the door and opened it. The night air was cool, with a smell of rain in it. He stepped back. Vrouw Hilversum brushed past him into the room.
    â€œShut the door,” she told Joost.
    â€œI don’t like you coming here.”
    â€œIt is for Katrina’s sake. May I sit down?”
    â€œSit, don’t sit. It makes no difference to me.” Old Joost shut the door and bolted it.
    â€œThere is hardly any air in here. You should open the windows. Katrina—”
    â€œMy granddaughter? She is healthy and happy. What do you want?”
    â€œYesterday two Americans came to Oosterdijk. They are looking for Milo Hacha.”
    Old Joost felt his heart jump sickeningly. “Milo Hacha is dead!”
    â€œThere is a legacy, Joost. A fortune. For Milo Hacha.”
    â€œMilo Hacha is dead . Doesn’t everyone say so?”
    â€œHe has an heir.”
    â€œKatrina,” said Old Joost in a trembling voice, “is my granddaughter.”
    â€œJoost. Listen to me. No one wishes to take Katrina away from you.”
    â€œYou should not have come here. You are not welcome.”
    â€œI want Katrina to have that money, Joost.”
    â€œShe is happy. There is the farm. We work together. She is content. I … am used to her.”
    â€œYou are sick, Joost. Heer Doctor Brinker says—”
    â€œThat fool! I will outlive him.”
    â€œWhat will happen to Katrina when you die? Don’t you love her?”
    â€œGet out of here,” Old Joost said.
    â€œNot until we have talked,” Johanna said in a surprisingly gentle voice.
    Old Joost turned away. His heart was hammering against his chest. “I told the Americans nothing, I want you to tell them. I gave them a note. They are coming here.”
    â€œWhen?” I must be calm, the old man thought. There is real danger again.
    â€œI don’t know. Tomorrow, perhaps. You must tell them the truth about Katrina.”
    â€œKatrina is my granddaughter. Her parents are dead. They were killed by the Nazis. That is the truth about her.”
    â€œYou are not the simple-minded old gaffer you pretend to be, Joost. You know well enough who Katrina’s real parents are.”
    â€œThey will never take her from me.”
    â€œI’ve already told you no one wishes to do that. We