The Berlin Connection Read Online Free PDF

our first meeting I had the impression that this woman had had to exert all her strength to control herself so perfectly. We very rarely are aware that the people we meet have behavior patterns that influence their conduct. We expect them to react as we would were we in their place; we cannot, in most cases, understand or comprehend them. Today I know. Natasha was carrying a heavy burden. Suffering and misfortune had taught her to think always of others; had taught her to be calm and direct.
    "Wait. . . wait..." I stammered^
    "Yes, Mr. Jordan?"
    "I... I have to explain ... I am an actor. . . ." T could not continue. The fist hit my solar plexus. The fear re-

    turned. The storm raged. Somewhere m the hotel a window slammed. I heard glass break and hit the ground. Finished. Finished. Everything was finished.
    "Paddy, I'm going to have a child . .."
    In retrospect this seems symptomatic of those hours: My emotions were ranging between rebellion and self-sacrifice, courage and hopelessness. "No one ... must ... know . . . I. . . am . . . ill. . ."
    Natasha took her hand from the receiver. Her voice was friendly and calm, "No one will hear anything from me. A doctor is pledged to silence."
    I had not thought of that.
    Yes. Oh, certainly. Naturally.
    Pledged to silence.
    My spirits rose. I wanted to smile, say something. It turned out a grimace, a babble. She took the bottle and filled the glass once more as if it were perfectly normal to drink at nine in the morning. She held the glass to my lips and said, "Here, Mr. Jordan."
    9
    "If each person in the world would make only one other person happy, the whole world would be happy."
    At this point in my report I remember this sentence. She said it to me after the worst had happened, when she understood what I had done. The look on her face told me that she did not condemn me, there was nothing she could not understand. The same look was on her face on this October morning, her voice was the same calm voice when she said, "Here, Mr. Jordan."
    I held the glass with both hands and emptied it in one draught. She filled the glass again. I felt the whisky give new strength to my body. Suddenly I could see clearly, hear clearly. I did not feel the fist any more. Here I was,

    sitting before Natasha in my crumpled pajamas, very much relieved. Very quietly I said, "Thank you."
    She went to the door and switched on the light. The chandelier sparkled.
    "And now you are going to allow me to examine you?" I nodded. That she had given me the whisky seemed to me the most important thing anyone had ever done for me. "When I was a httle girl I saw all your movies, Mr. Jordan." A moment ago I had hated her. Now I thought her wonderful. I felt even better now. I took another little drink. "You are scheduled to make another movie here in Germany. You are afraid that the news of your collapse will become known. This is perfectly understandable."
    How clever she was, and how likable!
    "Are you Russian?"
    "My parents were Russian. I was born in Germany. And you, Mr. Jordan? How is it you speak German so well?"
    "My mother came from Berlin."
    "Tell me what happened before you passed out."
    "I had an attack."
    "Can you describe it?"
    I described it, drinking the whisky while talking. "The worst was the fear," I heard myself say; the whisky quickly went to my head. "Terrible fear. Horrible fear. I thought it was a coronary."
    "Did you hear voices?"
    "No." I had completely forgotten Shirley's voice.
    "Did you see anything? Animals?"
    "Do you think that I have the d.t.'s?"
    "Please, answer me."
    "No. Or rather, yes, I saw a dead seagull. But it is real. You can see it too."
    "Where?"
    "On the balcony." She went to the drawing room, switched on the light there and T could not see her. I called out, "Pretty, awful sight, isn't it?"

    "I see no gull," her voice replied. I jumped out of bed and ran to her. The hght from the room shone into the darkness and the pouring rain outside. The flooded balcony was bare, the