The rail line really tested the staff car's suspension.
The vehicle was too wide to allow LeBeau to drive between the rails. There was a service road running alongside, but it had obviously been neglected, and the woods had encroached, leaving only a narrow track. This made it necessary for the wheels on the driver's side to run inside the rails, producing a rhythmic juddering on that side as they bumped over the sleepers. On the other side, the tyres jolted over protruding tree roots, and in and out of deep, water-filled holes. The effect was not unlike flying through heavy turbulence in a small plane.
Irma woke with a start and had to be soothed into relative calmness by her grandfather. The wing mirror fell off, and was left behind. Shortly afterwards, the rear-view mirror came away, too; Carter fielded it neatly, only to have it fly from his grasp at the next bump.
"Sorry," he muttered.
LeBeau glared at him. "Did it break?"
"Uh...yeah, it did, a bit." Carter's voice wobbled as the car gave another lurch; and Irma squealed, and clutched Zauner's arm to save herself from falling off the seat.
"At this rate, the car will fall apart before we even reach the bridge," growled LeBeau.
Carter started to speak, then thought better of it. Reaction was setting in; LeBeau was growing snappish, which caused Carter to retreat into an uncharacteristic silence. This in turn sharpened LeBeau's irritation. He knew it wasn't Carter's fault; but he was starting to feel like he had to take it out on someone, or burst, and Carter was the only available target.
He drew a deep breath, tightened his grip on the steering wheel and concentrated on trying to miss the worst of the obstructions ahead.
At last the forest opened out, and the viaduct came into sight. LeBeau brought the car to a halt. For a few moments he sat in silence, before getting out and walking towards the bridge. After a minute or so, Carter followed him.
The viaduct curved out across the valley, supported above the inundated floodplain by a series of stone arches. From where they stood it looked almost endless, although it was probably not much more than a mile; the valley was narrow here.
"No parapet," said LeBeau quietly, "and it's pretty narrow."
"Nearly twenty feet. That's plenty wide enough." Carter tilted his head to one side. "Can't see from here which is the arch that got blown up, but the edge might be a bit weak there." He broke off with a cough and a sniffle.
LeBeau didn't pay any attention. "Those girls saw something they weren't supposed to," he said. "What do you suppose the SS were up to?"
"Don't know," replied Carter. "But whatever it was, they sure didn't want anyone to know about it. You may not have thought about it, but I bet they blew up that family."
"I thought of it, Carter," LeBeau snapped back. "If it's so obvious that even you get it, nobody else is going to miss it."
Carter gave him a startled, wounded look, before he turned around and went back to the car. LeBeau followed, furious with himself for his momentary lack of control.
The going was easier once they were on the viaduct. Mindful of the possibility of going into a slide on the wet surface, LeBeau continued with caution, still with one set of wheels on each side of the rail; it was uneven, but not nearly as bad as the access road had been.
Carter kept watch for any signs of collapse in the stonework at the edge of the structure. He hadn't said another word; whether he was offended, or feared another outburst, LeBeau wasn't sure. He knew he owed Carter an apology, but now wasn't the time for it.
Below them the valley was in darkness; only an occasional glimmer gave evidence of the water extending across the floodplain. The sky above remained shrouded, with a faint veining of light to indicate how low the moon had descended. The rain had lightened, as if the clouds had finally started to run dry.
It was eerie, like the car was somehow suspended without any support between heaven and earth. Irma had shuffled over to peer out of the window nearest the edge, with one hand splayed out flat against the glass. Without realising it, her grandfather was holding on to her arm, irrationally fearful she would fall if he let go.
LeBeau didn't like it. He felt too exposed out here. But he didn't dare go faster, in case the structure beneath them suddenly collapsed.
"Any signs of damage?" he asked, when they were about halfway across.
"Can't see anything." Carter squinted out, then opened the window. "Go a bit slower," he added, and leaned out for a better view. After half a minute, he drew back in. "Looks like they've been repairing it. It's pretty dark down there, but there's some scaffolding and stuff. I think we're past the worst bit."
LeBeau nodded, and allowed the car to pick up speed; and they reached the other side without incident.
The access road alongside the line here was in much better shape than on the northern side of the valley, but the ride was still fairly rough, and not just because the unsealed surface below had turned to a thin slurry of mud. After a little way, Carter ventured an opinion: "I think maybe something broke loose underneath, Louis."
"I know," snapped LeBeau. "What do you want me to do about it?" Carter didn't dare reply.
It took another ten minutes to reach the point where the rail line crossed the main road between Heiligen and Hammelburg. By that time it was obvious something was amiss, from the way the steering was pulling to the left. LeBeau drove onto the verge, and stopped the motor. He didn't say a word; just leaned across in front of Carter to rummage in the glove compartment for a flashlight, then flung the door open and got out.
He was tired, and cold, his head was aching, and he'd just lost one of the closest friends he'd ever had. He didn't want to have to deal with anything more; but he didn't have a choice. He went round to the trunk to find the tool kit.
Carter had dismounted as well. "Maybe I should get under the car," he suggested diffidently. "You don't look so good."
He stood awkwardly, unconsciously wriggling his shoulders, then stretching his arms; his overstrained muscles had seized up during the long, cold drive. LeBeau shook his head. "You keep watch," he replied curtly, and crawled under the car.
It didn't take him long to find the problem; one of the leaf springs had apparently struck some obstruction, and was out of alignment. It wasn't something he could fix on the side of the road, but if he drove carefully it would get them home safely.
With a muffled groan he rolled over, and scrambled back out from underneath. "It's the suspension," he told Carter. "Can't do anything about it now."
"You want me to drive?" said Carter.
LeBeau got back behind the wheel, without answering. Carter sighed, opened the passenger door, but hesitated.
"Uh, Louis...I need to...go for a walk," he muttered, glancing at Irma, clearly ill at ease.
"Now is not the time, Carter," replied LeBeau irritably, failing at first to take in what Carter was actually getting at.
"Well, actually, it kind of is," Carter faltered. Then, lowering his voice, he added, "I swallowed an awful lot of water, back there."
"What's that got to do with...oh." LeBeau rolled his eyes as the penny dropped. "You can't wait till we get to town?"
"I don't think so."
"All right. Be quick, and don't go far."
Without another word, Carter headed off into the woods. There was a moment of embarrassed silence, which ended when Irma leaned towards her grandfather and whispered in his ear. Zauner regarded her with mild exasperation, then turned to LeBeau. "I'm afraid Irma also needs..." he began.
"Fine," growled LeBeau. "But stay close, okay?" Irma nodded, before sliding out of the car and running after Carter.
"I'm sorry," said Zauner. "All this must be an inconvenience to you."
"An inconvenience. You could call it that." It wasn't the word LeBeau would have chosen; the loss of Newkirk called for something more emphatic. He flung the door open, and got out again. Zauner also alighted, stiffly, and LeBeau felt another pang of contrition. Carter wasn't the only one who was suffering from the night's exertions. The doctor seemed fit for his age, but still his age would tell against him in a situation like this. He could not have had any idea what lay ahead when he set off for Hammelburg to bring his granddaughter to safety.
LeBeau rubbed his eyes as a few fine droplets of rain blurred his vision. He glanced at the doctor, opened his lips to speak, then stopped as a glow of light further down the road resolved into the headlights of an approaching vehicle. It slowed as it got closer, and drew to a halt behind the Stalag 13 car. The lights were too bright for LeBeau to make out any details; but the man who got out and came towards them proved to be an SS corporal.
"Alles in Ordnung?" he asked brusquely.
LeBeau and Zauner glanced at each other. "Just a little problem with the suspension," replied LeBeau. "It's not too bad."
The man glanced at the car, noticing the thick accumulation of mud around the lower panels and wheel arches. "Do you need any help?"
"No, it's okay. We can manage." LeBeau had started to perspire.
"There is a flood warning for this road," the corporal went on. "You should move on quickly before you are cut off."
"We will certainly do that," said LeBeau.
"Ein Moment, bitte." Another man had left the car, and now stood looking at them. This one, also SS, was a full colonel, and instinctively LeBeau came to attention.
The colonel nodded. "At ease." His eyes went from the diminutive LeBeau to the elderly Zauner, still wearing Newkirk's overcoat, and a smile crossed his thin, sharp-featured face. "You are Luftwaffe, no?"
"Jawohl, Herr Standartenführer," LeBeau snapped out, in his best German. "From Luftstalag 13," he added. If the colonel was wondering at a man of Zauner's years serving in the military, that would set his mind at rest; half the guards at Stalag 13 were too old for combat duty.
"That is near Hammelburg, isn't it? And you would be on your way there now?"
"Yes, sir."
"Good. I am also driving to Hammelburg," said the colonel. "I will be pleased to follow you on the road, in case you have further trouble."
It was the last thing LeBeau wanted. "We wouldn't want to put you to any trouble..." he began.
"No trouble," the colonel interrupted. "It's on my way." He turned to go back to his car, then paused. "By the way," he said, "we are trying to locate someone who may be travelling on this road. An elderly man, and a young girl. You haven't seen anyone...?"
"Nobody at all, sir," said LeBeau quickly. Out of the corner of his eye, he'd just spotted Carter and Irma emerging from the trees. He didn't dare make any sign, but Carter took in the situation at a glance, and vanished again, taking Irma with him.
The colonel shrugged. "Ah, well, I'm sure we'll catch up with them. Drive on." He returned to his vehicle.
As LeBeau hesitated, the corporal jerked his head towards the car. "Did you not hear? Drive on. Colonel Jäger doesn't like to be kept waiting."
LeBeau sent one desperate look towards the woods. Then he turned to Zauner. "Get in," he hissed.
"We're not going to leave them?" the doctor stammered, utterly taken aback.
"You'd rather the SS found her? We're no more than a couple of miles from Heiligen. As soon as we get there, we'll find an excuse, ditch these guys, and come back for them," LeBeau whispered fiercely. "She's safe with Carter."
At least, so he hoped, as he looked out at the scattered raindrops still misting the windscreen. This place was not so far from the river. He'd made what he believed was the best decision. But if he'd chosen wrongly, Carter and Irma would be the ones facing the consequences.