Vienna Prelude by Bodie Thoene, Brock Thoene Read Free Book Online

a fur collar that gave him the appearance of a vulture as he scanned the passports and directed passengers to the appropriate table.
    Elisa’s grip on the violin case caught his attention. He smiled slightly and then glanced briefly at the small red mark along Elisa’s jawline that identified her as a violinist. She held out her passport, and he waved her through without looking at it.
    “We shall have to look through your baggage, of course, Fraülein.” He sounded apologetic.
    “Of course,” Elisa agreed, silently wondering how the man would behave if he had looked at the passport of Elisa Lindheim, Jewess.
    “A cold morning, ja ?”
    “Quite.”
    “A glance through your baggage will be enough.” He nodded toward a screen with heaps of baggage piled around it. “Heinz!” he called, and a short harried-looking young soldier emerged. “Take these things for the Fraülein.” He gently, even politely, took Elisa’s bag and the violin case from her and handed them to the man. Then he smiled again and said to Elisa, “Just wait here. Only a moment and you may board again.”
    Other passengers cast angry, fearful looks in her direction. They would assume now that she was some important member of the Reich—or at least related to someone in authority.
    Seconds later the young man came out from behind the screen again and handed the bag and the violin case back to Elisa. “Quite in order.” He gave a slight bow and then raised his hand in salute. “Heil Hitler!” he said, as though wishing her a good morning.
    She raised her hand slightly and replied, “Good day.” Then she looked at the tall vulturelike man beside her. “Am I finished?”
    “More than enough, Fraülein. You may resume your place on the train.” He tipped his hat.
    Elisa nodded, then left the others shivering on the platform. She had not experienced such politeness in Germany since 1933. She did not question her luck, even when three other passengers were arrested on first examination of their passports. Life in the Reich had become a strange paradox of brutality and obliging charm.
    Elisa sat quietly in the empty train and placed the precious violin across her lap. She opened the case and lifted the lid, gazing for a long time at the soft golden patina of the Guarnerius. This morning she had happened to meet with a man who appreciated music and recognized her as a musician. Tomorrow, or next week, she could just as easily be searched by some ignorant Brownshirt who would smash the priceless instrument to pieces for the joy of his own power to do so. Elisa suddenly wished that Rudy had not left the instrument with her. She wished that she had loaned him the money and not taken the responsibility for carrying something so unique and irreplaceable right into the heart of Nazi Germany.
    As the first of the passengers came glaring past her, she closed the case. She felt like apologizing, but she did not know how to explain such behavior. Within a matter of hours she had crossed a frontier and stepped through the looking glass into a bizarre world where the Red Queen wore a swastika on her arm and danced as she shouted, “Off with their heads!”
    As the train jerked into motion at last, Elisa determined that she would not think about it anymore until she had to. Somewhere in the back of her mind remained the vague hope that she would not cross the border into Germany again until the looking-glass world became right once more.

 
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    The bull calf was five days old and confidently butting his patient mother as he demanded his warm, creamy supper. Franz dumped a measure of grain into the manger, then stood and watched as the baby slurped happily. He had been an early calf, and his arrival was really a surprise. When Franz and his father had purchased the heifer last spring, they had known she was pregnant but had not expected the birth until early March. As it turned out, the new calf and fresh supply of milk were a godsend. Two