Read Online The Poellenberg Inheritance by Evelyn Anthony - Free Book Online Page B

twice as thick as the General’s. He was marked disappeared, presumed killed in Berlin during the Russian bombardment of the city. Schwarz, Jesus Christ. He changed his mind and finished the Scotch. He looked into her face. It was pale but innocent. There was nothing in those beautiful blue eyes.
    â€˜Yes, he came to the office. Actually I thought he was a bit eccentric.’
    Eccentric. Oh, just possibly, Fisher said to himself. Just possibly he had bad dreams at night. ‘Why did he come and see you?’
    â€˜Just to introduce himself.’
    That was a lie and Fisher knew it because she glanced away and wouldn’t look at him. He wished for a moment that he was still a journalist. What a trail this could turn out to be. Albrecht Schwarz turning up in England. If he had come through alive …’
    The first course came. Paula began to eat it; she felt taut and unhungry. He had ordered a good wine and she drank some of it.
    â€˜Did he talk about your father?’
    â€˜Yes. He said what a wonderful person he was.’ Paula spoke quietly. ‘He said he carried a photograph of me in his wallet. You may think this silly, Mr. Fisher, but I was rather touched by the idea.’
    â€˜I don’t think it’s silly at all. Was that all? There wasn’t any hint that his death wasn’t certain – that he might have got away?’
    â€˜Yes, there was, as a matter of fact. But Black was eccentric, as I said. I didn’t really believe him.’
    â€˜I see. Where is this Mr. Black, or Schwarz? I ought to go and see him.’
    â€˜I don’t know,’ Paula said. ‘He just came into my office, and then walked out again. He didn’t leave any address and I forgot to ask him. I told you, he was a little – odd, I can’t explain it. He said he would ring me again but I’ve heard nothing from him since. To be honest, I rather doubted that he knew my father at all, he seemed so strange. Rather a frightening little man.’
    â€˜Little?’ Fisher prompted. There was a photograph of the General reviewing an armoured corps, with Schwarz walking behind him.
    â€˜Yes, quite short. About five foot six, I should think.’
    â€˜That tallies,’ Fisher said. ‘If I got a photograph for you you’d recognise him, wouldn’t you – even though it was taken years ago?’
    â€˜Oh, I should think so. He had a rather distinctive face. You could advertise for him.’
    â€˜Yes,’ he said, ‘Yes, I suppose I could.’ The idea made him smile in irony. He had already been advertised for, but the man had no sense of propriety. He had just kept quiet and never answered. He was really feeling sorry for Paula Stanley now. The trouble was that his excitement kept getting in the way. ‘Here, have some more wine. Is there anything else you can think of? Anything to help me? You’ve been marvellous so far.’
    â€˜Nothing,’ Paula said. ‘Do you mind if I don’t finish this – I’m not really hungry. It was delicious, but I just can’t manage any more. Now it’s your turn, Mr. Fisher. I want to know everything. I want to know exactly why you said my father might just be alive.’
    He faced the anxious look, and thought how pretty she was when she was worried. ‘Two months ago there was a newspaper report in Germany that he’d been seen in Paris. It appeared in the Allgemeine Zeitung , and was reprinted in all the major European newspapers through A.P. My client saw it, and wanted an investigation.’
    â€˜Seen in Paris? But that’s impossible! That could mean Black was right!’
    â€˜It certainly could,’ Fisher agreed. ‘It seemed pretty definite. It has to be looked into; anyway, that’s what I’m being paid for.’
    â€˜Who said they saw him in Paris? And who is employing you?’
    He had the photostat copy of the original cutting in his briefcase.