Read Online The Baker's Daughter by Sarah McCoy - Free Book Online

“Such a pretty fräulein and with so much spirit.” He thrust her forward against the crate, pinning both her arms overhead. “I don’t want to hurt you.” He fumbled with his belt buckle.
    â€œYou beast!” Elsie cried. “I’m going to tell Josef!”
    Kremer smiled. “Do you think he’d still want you—after he finds out that you seduced me?” He pushed up her chiffon and undid his trousers. “And on such a holy night as this?”
    â€œPlease,” Elsie panicked. “I’ve never …”
    His thighs were hot and coarse; the friction of his stiff uniform against the beaded gown broke her skin beneath in small puncture wounds.
    â€œWhose story do you think they’ll believe, eh? An immoral concubine or an officer of the Third Reich.”
    â€œGod, please!” she cried.
    Kremer wrenched her arms tight and anchored his feet.
    Suddenly, a high-pitched scream, a single note, cracked the air like a siren. And to her shock, Kremer let go. She fell to the ground. Delicate crystals dotted his muddy footprints.
    The banshee’s cry continued.
    Kremer took out his gun and did up his pants. He aimed left and right before homing in on the source. The wooden crate behind them. He yanked off the covering.
    The Jewish boy sat inside with a blanket draped over his head like a Nativity figurine. Sound emanated from the hooded face.
    â€œQuiet!” Kremer ordered and cracked the metal butt of his gun against the wooden slats.
    The boy’s note did not waver.
    â€œJewish demon!” He cocked the pistol.
    Elsie crawled to the banquet doors and met Josef’s boots coming out.
    â€œElsie!” He lifted her to her feet. “What is going on?”
    Kremer stood with outstretched arm; the polished barrel pointed at the boy’s head.
    Elsie buried her face in Josef’s stiff shoulder.
    â€œGünther, put the gun down!” Josef boomed.
    The boy hushed.
    â€œHe’s a Jew. Why waste time driving him back to the camp?” Kremer’s finger moved for the trigger.
    Josef slapped the gun from his hand, and the bullet zipped through the dark snowfall. “You do not have authority,” roared Josef.
    It was the first time Elsie had seen him angry. Her body trembled at his ferocity.
    Josef picked up the gun from the powdered street and emptied the chamber. Bullets dropped soundlessly into the snowbank. He placed the barrel against Kremer’s forehead. Neither spoke.
    The wet chiffon grew stiff around Elsie’s body, a gossamer cocoon of ice. She tasted iron. A finger to her mouth returned crimson. The inside of her lip was split, and she sucked the warm blood to make it stop.
    The blanket over the boy fell away, exposing a pale skull and tear-streakedcheeks. His chin quivered and reminded Elsie of the only time she’d seen her nephew Julius. After he was born, they visited Hazel in Steinhöring. Julius cried for milk from the bassinette. So small and fragile; his tears seemed too large in comparison. The Jewish boy looked the same. Elsie wanted to reach out to hold him and rock them both.
    â€œJosef. My friend,” said Kremer.
    Josef pressed the metal against his skin. “ ‘And then she will call all those before her judgment seat, who today, in possession of power, trample
justice
and
law
underfoot …’ ” He pushed the gun harder and spoke steadily, a man entranced. “ ‘Who have led our people into misery and ruin and amid the misfortune of the fatherland have valued their
own
ego above the life of the community.’ ” He pulled back. The barrel left a circular indent on Kremer’s forehead.
    Josef composed himself. “It would do you good to understand our purpose.” He handed the empty gun back to Kremer, cleared his throat, and readjusted the cuffs of his uniform jacket so they aligned perfectly. “They are serving dessert.” He took