Frederick's American Café

Note to readers: This story is set in North Africa during WWII. It contains Nazism, anti-semitism and other bigotry, homosexuality, adultery and gun violence.

Note to readers: The story includes a few French and German phrases. To save on the use of footnotes, the ABBR tag hides the English translation. Mouse-over the foreign phrase to see the English text. This is not available on all readers.

Chapter 4

Frederick gave Lulu a minute's head start, enough time so she wouldn't see or suspect him.


He found her standing outside the hotel, at one if the café tables perfect for a morning coffee or an evening cigarette. She was scolding Benny fiercely, and Frederick wished she'd quit wasting time.


Then the boy reached into his pocket and pulled out a wad of fabric: the scarf. Lulu took it, unwrapped it,  and held up a small red earring in the sun. She admired it briefly before returning to her lecture. The boy shrugged and dropped his head again but gave her nothing more. Prompted by nothing Frederick could detect, Benny broke into a run and disappeared across the square. Lulu shouted after him but did not pursue him. Frederick shrank back in time to be fully hidden when the singer spun on her heels and marched back through the hotel lobby to Frederick's empty office.


"Harville," she then called out, "où est le patron? I need to see him."


Harville shrugged behind his desk. "He was just in his office."


"If you see him, tell him I went to speak with the sisters in room 4," she called over her shoulder as she sped up the stairs.


Frederick watched her go with uneasiness. There was just something about those women meeting that didn't bode well for him but he couldn't very well stop it now.


He went back outside to have a smoke as the sun climbed to its zenith. The patter of the fountain was inaudible over the murmur of trade and the buzzing of insects.


He thought back over the game last night, while Lulu stood on the stage and Benny had gaped at her. The boy looked too young to be interested in girls, especially one as old as Lulu, but he was. It explained the trinkets but not the passport. Then again, Frederick hadn't seen Benny hand over the passport. There was obviously more going on here, but how much more?


There was a flurry of activity across the square, originating at the laundry next to Hemmert’s office. It worked its way around through the throng until Frederick could see what was going on. Benny was being chased by a small collection of business owners with Hemmert trailing in their wake.


Wanting to question the boy himself, Frederick was tempted to get involved. He stood up and moved to intercept the boy. Benny saw him and adjusted course but not enough.


Frederick grabbed at the collar of his tunic. The boy pushed back hard. For a moment, Frederick thought he was winning but then he was down in a cloud of dust and Benny continued his escape.


He lay in the dirt for a moment, dazed. The boy was stronger than he looked. After the impromptu parade had passed and the shouting died down, he thought that at least this meant that Hemmert would be out of his office when Anne's sister tried to report the theft.


He stood finally and dusted himself off with a grimace. From the looks of his suit, the launderer would be back at the poker table next week. As he brushed some dirt from his suit pocket, he stopped. There was something in that pocket that he didn't remember putting in there. He reached his hand in and pulled out a small leather-bound book: Anne's passport. He flipped through it, disbelieving, but it only confirmed itself to be Anne Elliot's passport.


Had Benny intended to give this away? If so, why the chase? Why not return it to Lulu when she had asked?


Frederick could have stood there all day trying to unravel the mystery, but he needed to return the little book to its owner. He sighed and went inside.


The sound of women gossiping greeted him in the upstairs hall. Lulu was still visiting; apparently, they had hit it off.


Wishing he had stopped to wash his face at least, he knocked.


The voices quieted immediately, then he heard high-heeled footsteps cross the floor. It opened, barely, and Elizabeth Elliot greeted him in her fashion.


"Mr. Wentworth, have you come to walk me over to Herr Hemmert's office, save him the trouble of hunting you down?"


He held up Anne's passport. "Ma'am," he drawled in the American accent that always set Mrs. Croft's nose twitching.


The woman before him was no different, wrinkling her nose in disgust. She opened the door another few inches and tried to take the passport from him but he merely tightened his grip.


"This belongs to Anne Elliot," he said. "And I'd like to encourage all of you to keep your irreplaceable valuables in the hotel safe inside my office."


Elizabeth puckered her mouth for a tart reply but the door swung open fully and Anne was there, pulling her passport out of his fingers and squeezing herself between the two of them.


"I'll talk with him," she told her sister and pulled the door shut behind her.


Obviously he was standing too close to her now but that was hardly his fault. And it was by no account his responsibility to add more distance; that was Anne's specialty.


"Miss Lulu has explained the entire misunderstanding to our satisfaction." Despite their proximity, she spoke loud enough to be heard in the room behind her. "Nevertheless, I am eager to avoid any additional confusion. Can I see the safe?"


He nodded and moved past her to the stairs, asking her to follow him as an afterthought.


Harville called out that someone had been looking for him as they walked past. His timing was execrable and Frederick ignored him.


The safe owned one corner of his office. Anne could not have missed it when she sat waiting for him yesterday. Still she approached it as if she had never seen it before. It was locked, as always. While Anne inspected the exterior of the safe, Frederick shut and locked his office door. It was a safety precaution: never open the safe when anyone could walk into or out of his office. It had always kept him out of trouble before.


“What are you doing?” he asked her as she continued to pat the top and sides of the safe and try the handle.


“You’d be surprised what passes for security in other places,” she told him over her shoulder. “In one hotel in Vichy France, they had a safe but never locked it. Can you imagine? I mean, what is the point? And in Cairo, they had a safe, but the combination was written on a piece of paper where absolutely anyone could find it.”


“Lucky for you, I’ve got trust issues.”


Anne wisely did not take the bait. “Who else has the combination? Does Mr. Harville have it?”


“No. No one but me. Me and Fogarty,” he amended.


“Who’s that?” She was sharply curious and turned to face him.


“The previous owner of The American,” he told her. “He left five years ago. I got a letter from his lawyer six months ago that he died.” He was still trying to figure out if that news meant anything to him.


“So how does anyone get into the safe if something happens to you?”


“I’m sure you can bring in a safecracker from Tunis or Marrakech if you need to.” The only reason to do so would be Frederick’s death. He could surely recover from a cold long before such a man could be found who would agree to travel to Avamposto Calce for the job.


She turned to him, her eyes luminous and powerful. “Can I have the combination, Freddy?” She looked as if, had he tried to take her in his arms and kiss her, she wouldn't have very much minded it.


"Did I not mention my trust issues?" Of all the people in a 500-mile radius, she was the last one he would trust.


At least she had the decency not to pretend she didn't understand him. “I tried to tell you about Guillaume yesterday, Freddy. But you started shouting about Russell and then that nice Mr. Croft interrupted us.”


“Well I’m just glad you found someone Russell approves of. I wish you both all the happiness in the world.” He didn’t mean it. Not even his tone was convincing, but that he managed to contort his mouth to make those sounds was a major accomplishment.


“It’s complicated,” she told him.


“Welcome to the big leagues, sweetheart.”


He brushed her away and she averted her eyes as he spun the dial back and forth. With a grunt of satisfaction, he turned the handle and pulled the door open. Anne was quick to peek inside but she kept her hands to herself.


“What do you keep in here?” she asked, trying to make sense of the boxes arrayed neatly on shelves therein.


“Whatever I’m asked to,” he said, removing a metal box labeled “4”. He lifted the lid and showed her the inside: it was empty. Then he dropped her passport in it, replaced the lid, and returned the box to its proper place.


Content that her passport would not be stolen again during her stay, she leaned down and began to examine the bottom row.


Before she could snoop further, there was a sharp rap at the door. It startled her and she stepped back. Frederick shut the safe and spun the dial before testing the lever once more. Then he crossed the room and unlocked the office door.


“Herr Hemmert,” he greeted. “Even your knock sounds German.”


“Herr Wentworth,” Hemmert responded in kind, walking into the room and preparing for a chat. “Fraulein Elliot,” he added with some surprise, “I did not know you were in here. I hope I am not interrupting anything important?”


“No,” Frederick answered. “The fraulein was just putting her passport in the safe.”


Hemmert’s astonishment was plain. “Her-- But I thought she had lost it. Has it been found already?”


“Yes,” Anne volunteered. “It was all a silly misunderstanding. I hope my sister didn’t lead you on a wild goose chase.“


"Haven't you heard?" asked Frederick. "The Gestapo loves to goose-step."


The other two frowned at his poor attempt at humor.


“So it was alles für die Katz?" remarked Hemmert, choosing to ignore Frederick's comment. "I cannot say I am displeased. And have you inspected it to make sure it is perfectly right? There is nothing wrong? May I see it?”


“No, thank you. I looked through it and it’s fine. If you’ll excuse me, I’m going to rejoin my sister. Mr. Wentworth, I’ll speak to her and Mr. Wilkes about keeping their passports in the safe as well.”


She did not linger. Being in the same room as Hemmert made her uncomfortable, especially when Hemmert attempted to act friendly and concerned for her.


With Anne gone, Hemmert shut the door and, forgetting the original purpose of his errand, tried to convince Frederick to let him look through Wilkes’ passport when the man handed it over. For all his cajoling, Frederick refused, and Hemmert was forced to return to his side of the square, unsuccessful. Still, he only viewed this as a temporary setback. “I am going to investigate Wilkes,” he announced. “There is something wrong about him and I am going to find it out, with or without your help, Wentworth. But it will go better for you if you help me.”


Frederick wouldn’t lift a finger.