Night Train to Munich Page #3

in the personal column of the London Times...

signed perhaps with some nickname

which her father will know at once.

You will see that that advertisement

is repeated daily until it is answered.

When that happens, you

will report to me instantly.

- You understand?

- Yes, sir.

That is all. Heil Hitler.

Heil Hitlerl

I see that fellow

Ribbentrop's going to Moscow.

Hmm. So did Napoleon.

Miss Bomasch,

you're wanted on the phone.

Nice time of night to ring up, I must say.

- Who is it?

- Oh, he didn't say.

Hello? Yes, I'm Anna Bomasch.

In the Times, yes. Who is it?

Yes, I'm alone. Who is it, please?

I can't answer questions.

Now please listen carefully.

At the post office in Prairie

Street, a letter is waiting for you...

containing a railway ticket.

Go to the destination on the ticket,

and when you get to the town...

ask for a man named Gus Bennett.

You've got the name? Gus Bennett.

- Yes, but who do I ask?

- Everyone there knows Gus Bennett.

You say nothing of this to

anyone. That is most important.

Hello?

Hello!

- Yes?

- It's Anna. May I come in?

Yes, come in.

Karl, I've just heard. Somebody telephoned.

- We found him.

- Where?

- I don't know yet.

- But, uh, what did he say?

Karl, I'd love to tell you, but whoever it

was said I wasn't to say a word to anyone.

- Oh.

- I don't mean you're just anyone.

- Of course you're

not, but - - Anna, I -

I would much rather you didn't tell me.

We don't know what your father is doing, and

it's probably right you should take precautions.

There's no one in the

world I'd rather confide in.

I don't know what I'd have

done if it hadn't been for you.

No.

- You are happy

now? - Mm-hmm.

Well, that's all that matters.

Good night, Karl.

Oh, he's along here, all right.

You hear a warbling note like an air

raid siren? Well, that's him singing.

Churns out the same moldy

songs from 9:
00 in the morning.

A human barrel organ, he is.

The song of the century!

When "Home Sweet Home" and "Annie Laurie"

are forgotten, this song will live on.

Now, madam, only the

price of a stick of rock.

Sixpence, sir. The ballad of the

age. "Only Love Can Lead the Way. "

Here, buy a copy for the sergeant

major. Thank you, gentlemen! Thank you!

Anyone else want to buy a

copy of this haunting melody?

How would you like to be

haunted for a sixpence, miss?

- Mr. Gus Bennett?

- In the flesh. You want me to autograph it? I'll throw that in.

- I'm Anna Bomasch.

- How do you do?

Don't go away, ladies and gentlemen!

I'm not gonna sing again yet.

- I was told to come and see you, Mr. Bennett.

- Hmm? Who by?

- I don't know.

- Is this a gag?

Well, somebody phoned me. They

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