Read Online 1503954692 by Steve Robinson - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Steve Robinson
Ads: Link
close. Do you want to get something to eat?’
Tayte had been trying to ignore the groans his stomach was making for the last couple of hours. A kind of brunch had been served on the plane, but however much he liked his food, he was always so tense during a flight that he could never face the in-flight meals. Something to eat sounded good, but a part of him just wanted to check in at the hotel and get on with his research. Several strands of interest had come out of their conversation with Johann Langner that he wanted to explore, but that part of him was the old part—the loner who rarely had anyone with him that he wanted to sit down and share a meal with.
He turned away from the building and gave Jean a smile. ‘That sounds great,’ he said, thinking it was what couples did on city breaks, but more importantly because he knew it was what Jean wanted to do. He caught a voice in his head then, telling him that the research could wait a few hours, and he almost laughed to himself. Before he’d met Jean such a thought would never have crossed his mind.
‘What is it?’ Jean asked, clearly noticing his smirk.
‘It’s nothing.’ Tayte grabbed Jean’s hand and led her back to the pavement, heading the same way the taxi had gone. ‘Let’s get another cab and ask the driver to take us to the finest restaurant in Munich.’
Jean laughed. ‘Are you paying?’
‘Sure, but in that case maybe I’ll ask for the second or third finest.’
They were laughing as Tayte turned back to see if there was a taxi coming, although he thought they would have to keep walking until they hit a more touristy part of the city. As he looked over his shoulder his smile turned to excitement when he saw two people, a man and a woman, at the glass doors they had just left. He drew Jean’s attention to them.
‘Look, someone’s going inside.’
He let go of Jean’s hand and almost jogged back up the steps to the door. He reached it just as it was closing.
‘Excuse me,’ he said. He was too excited to recall how to say it in German.
The door opened again and Tayte saw a tall, slim woman in a navy trouser suit, whom he thought was about Jean’s age, in her late thirties. The man Tayte had seen with her was standing in the shadows further back. The woman smiled expectantly, as though waiting for Tayte to say what he wanted.
‘Do you speak English?’ he asked.
‘Of course,’ the woman said, a little indignantly, Tayte thought, as if he should have known that every German in a business suit spoke English.
Tayte paused to give himself time to get the pronunciation right for his next line. ‘Great,’ he said. ‘I’m looking for Die Freunde der Waffen-SS Kriegsveteranen . Is this the right place?’
The woman’s formerly pleasant expression changed to a frown. ‘We don’t have visitors.’
‘Well, can I make an appointment?’
‘No, I’m sorry. No visitors.’
She began to close the door, but Tayte quickly pulled out the photograph he had of his mother and thrust it across the threshold. He didn’t expect anything to come of it, but he didn’t think it was a good idea to be so direct as to ask if they were helping Volker Strobel evade the authorities.
‘I’m looking for this woman, or trying to find someone who can tell me her name. Can you at least tell me if you recognise her?’
The woman glanced at the photograph. ‘No, I’m sorry,’ she repeated. She began to close the door again. ‘Now if you’ll—’
Jean stepped beside Tayte then and cut in. ‘Can we talk to you about Volker Strobel?’
The direct approach it is, then , Tayte thought. ‘Look, we’re not out to expose Strobel,’ he said. ‘We just want to talk to anyone who knows anything about him in the hope that it might help identify the woman we’re trying to find.’
The man came out from the shadows then. He appeared on the other side of the glass briefly before he slammed the door in Tayte’s face, rattling the frame. Tayte watched
Tayte had been trying to ignore the groans his stomach was making for the last couple of hours. A kind of brunch had been served on the plane, but however much he liked his food, he was always so tense during a flight that he could never face the in-flight meals. Something to eat sounded good, but a part of him just wanted to check in at the hotel and get on with his research. Several strands of interest had come out of their conversation with Johann Langner that he wanted to explore, but that part of him was the old part—the loner who rarely had anyone with him that he wanted to sit down and share a meal with.
He turned away from the building and gave Jean a smile. ‘That sounds great,’ he said, thinking it was what couples did on city breaks, but more importantly because he knew it was what Jean wanted to do. He caught a voice in his head then, telling him that the research could wait a few hours, and he almost laughed to himself. Before he’d met Jean such a thought would never have crossed his mind.
‘What is it?’ Jean asked, clearly noticing his smirk.
‘It’s nothing.’ Tayte grabbed Jean’s hand and led her back to the pavement, heading the same way the taxi had gone. ‘Let’s get another cab and ask the driver to take us to the finest restaurant in Munich.’
Jean laughed. ‘Are you paying?’
‘Sure, but in that case maybe I’ll ask for the second or third finest.’
They were laughing as Tayte turned back to see if there was a taxi coming, although he thought they would have to keep walking until they hit a more touristy part of the city. As he looked over his shoulder his smile turned to excitement when he saw two people, a man and a woman, at the glass doors they had just left. He drew Jean’s attention to them.
‘Look, someone’s going inside.’
He let go of Jean’s hand and almost jogged back up the steps to the door. He reached it just as it was closing.
‘Excuse me,’ he said. He was too excited to recall how to say it in German.
The door opened again and Tayte saw a tall, slim woman in a navy trouser suit, whom he thought was about Jean’s age, in her late thirties. The man Tayte had seen with her was standing in the shadows further back. The woman smiled expectantly, as though waiting for Tayte to say what he wanted.
‘Do you speak English?’ he asked.
‘Of course,’ the woman said, a little indignantly, Tayte thought, as if he should have known that every German in a business suit spoke English.
Tayte paused to give himself time to get the pronunciation right for his next line. ‘Great,’ he said. ‘I’m looking for Die Freunde der Waffen-SS Kriegsveteranen . Is this the right place?’
The woman’s formerly pleasant expression changed to a frown. ‘We don’t have visitors.’
‘Well, can I make an appointment?’
‘No, I’m sorry. No visitors.’
She began to close the door, but Tayte quickly pulled out the photograph he had of his mother and thrust it across the threshold. He didn’t expect anything to come of it, but he didn’t think it was a good idea to be so direct as to ask if they were helping Volker Strobel evade the authorities.
‘I’m looking for this woman, or trying to find someone who can tell me her name. Can you at least tell me if you recognise her?’
The woman glanced at the photograph. ‘No, I’m sorry,’ she repeated. She began to close the door again. ‘Now if you’ll—’
Jean stepped beside Tayte then and cut in. ‘Can we talk to you about Volker Strobel?’
The direct approach it is, then , Tayte thought. ‘Look, we’re not out to expose Strobel,’ he said. ‘We just want to talk to anyone who knows anything about him in the hope that it might help identify the woman we’re trying to find.’
The man came out from the shadows then. He appeared on the other side of the glass briefly before he slammed the door in Tayte’s face, rattling the frame. Tayte watched
Similar Books
