Part Five: Outright War — Chapter 9 - The Barman of the Ritz
By Philippe Collin
JULY 12, 1943
The telephone in the bar rings and rings, but Frank refuses to answer it. He knows it is Elmiger. He knows why he is calling, and he doesn’t know what to say.
Süss has disappeared.
Frank suspected as much last night; he really was saying goodbye. When he arrived at the Ritz earlier today, Frank’s suspicions were confirmed: the red silk scarf was no longer in the little cabinet at the base of the sandstone column.
And the oil lamp that was hanging on the wall is gone.
Süss is once again a wandering soul.
The relationship between the Ritz and the Gestapo will not be helped by his escape. Frank is dreading the inevitable interrogation. His soul feels heavy, his heart is pounding, yet he feels an almost aching sense of impatience to be done with this. He dreams of a summer stroll along the banks of the Seine at twilight, breathing in the fresh air and thinking of nothing in particular. Unafraid. But he is trapped behind the bar, which is due to open in ten minutes. Once more, the sound of the phone ringing echoes through the air. Frank feels like smashing it against the wall.
“Aren’t you going to answer, Frank?”
“My God, Sacha! You gave me a fright…”
Sacha Guitry nods towards the telephone with an air of amusement.
“Who could be calling that you are so desperate to avoid?”
“The manager, probably. The deputy manager has been missing since last night and nobody knows where he is.”
“Monsieur Süss has vanished into thin air? You look worried, Frank. Were you close friends?”
“Let’s just say we have got to know each other a little over the past few months.”
Guitry pauses for a moment before taking a seat.
“Perhaps it is Süss calling to tell you that he is on his way to Lisbon, where there is an airplane waiting to take him to Caracas.”
Frank smiles at the thought.
“You amaze me, Sacha. How do you always manage to see the positive side?”
“I don’t know… Be light-hearted, Frank—frivolity is the root of all wisdom. Now, I know it is a little early, but why don’t you pour me a gin and tonic, and we can toast the liberation of Sicily before the Germans get here.”
Guitry truly has a talent for getting to the heart of the matter.
Frank thinks of Süss again. A self-taught aesthete and a free spirit. He will miss the man’s pragmatic worldview. Frank realizes he is already thinking about Süss in the past tense.
The telephone rings again. Guitry gives Frank a pointed look. Frank takes the hint and picks up the receiver.
“Hello, Frank?! Elmiger here, where the hell have you been?”
“Down in the cellar. Luciano and I have been doing the stocktaking.”
“Have you heard from Süss?”
“Not a word.”
“Damn! The Gestapo are furious about his disappearance. They suspect him of double-crossing the art dealer, Haberstock. Do you know anything about that?”
Frank swallows hard. He suspected this confrontation was coming.
“About Haberstock? I know nothing, monsieur. Why would I?”
“I don’t know. I don’t know anything anymore.” Elmiger sounds dejected. “I’ve been summoned to the Avenue Foch at 9 a.m. tomorrow morning. Call me if you hear anything.”
“Of course, sir. And bon voyage.”
“Excuse me?”
“Sorry, I was just saying goodbye to a guest who is leaving for Lisbon.”