Read Online Munich Signature by Bodie Thoene, Brock Thoene - Free Book Online

whole world, and it might be different being married if it wasn’t to her.
    “They’re drooling.” Murphy laughed as he escorted Elisa to the dance floor. He wanted to thump his chest like Tarzan and yell, She’s mine, fellas! You can all go home now!
    “Murphy, behave,” Elisa said demurely as he took her in his arms and they swirled off to the melody of a Strauss waltz.
    “You’re a good dancer,” Murphy commented over the music.
    She accepted the compliment with a smug nod. “I have played this melody enough. It’s a treat to dance to it.”
    “When we get to the States I’m going to take you to Radio City or the Algonquin to hear Benny Goodman. Maybe Glenn Miller. I’ll teach you to boogie-woogie!”
    As she laughed at his strange comment, someone tapped him on the shoulder, cutting in. Murphy had not expected that. He reluctantly yielded his partner to a tall, bespectacled man dressed in the uniform of a colonel. Murphy’s delirious cloud of joy evaporated as the suave young officer swept Elisa off into the crowd on the dance floor. He looked impatiently at his wristwatch and wondered if thirty seconds was long enough to wait before he cut in again. He hesitated several seconds longer and then followed in the direction Elisa had disappeared. Thirty seconds was too long to wait.
    Then the music stopped and the glittering crowd applauded and filtered from the dance floor to the sidelines. Murphy barely noticed the smiles of young ladies and matrons as he passed. He was too busy scanning the assembly for some sight of Elisa. Briefly he hoped that he would not spend the rest of his life so miserable out of her presence. They could still officially be considered newlyweds, however, so he allowed himself the luxury of missing her even after a few moments. Especially with her in that dress. Every other dame in the room was dressed in an old horse blanket compared to Elisa! As a matter of fact, every other woman in the room looked like an old nag compared to her.
    Murphy still could not quite believe that Elisa was actually his wife. The thought of it made him grin all over again. He spotted her at a table next to a giant swan ice sculpture and noted the gaggle of gentlemen swarming around.
    Sorry, boys; she’s taken. He walked toward her nonchalantly as she raised her eyes to meet his. Some eager young buck was talking to her, but she was looking at Murphy. Smiling at Murphy. Drawing Murphy to her with a look that whispered that there was nobody in all the world for her but him. He winked at her and she winked back, a gesture that silenced the chatter of the man beside her. The man bowed slightly and backed away as Murphy approached.
    “Missed you,” she said in English. “Nobody here has ever heard of boogie-woogie.” She raised her eyebrow slightly. “The lack of real culture here is astonishing, Mr. Murphy.”
    He laughed loudly enough to receive a number of disapproving glances. “What do you say we blow this joint after the main course?”
    Elisa exhaled in frustration. Murphy was constantly tossing out American phrases that were beyond her comprehension. “Blow this joint?” she asked.
    “Scram. Skedaddle.”
    “Oh. That explains everything.” She took his arm. “If my husband were here he would . . . belt you . . . for talking to me that way.”
    “Very good, Elisa.” Murphy nodded and kissed her hand. “You’re a quick learner.”
    “I have an excellent tutor.”
    At that moment the trumpets erupted in a fanfare and the orchestra played the Czech national anthem. The slight form of President Beneš appeared at the top of the stairs. Bodyguards stood at a discreet but watchful distance. Beneš walked from handshake to handshake as the men surrounding him vigilantly scanned the outstretched hands and faces of the guests.
    Murphy tugged Elisa forward to meet the president. The diminutive man’s eyes met his. Behind Beneš was the officer who had been wounded in the arm by the first shots