Read Online Three Tales From the World of Cotton Malone by Steve Berry - Free Book Online Page A

Hitler, and he was correct. Braun’s task was to lie still and be dead. It was Bormann who carried her from the bedroom, and after being called by a guard he momentarily deposited her body in an anteroom. That was not prearranged, but it provided Bormann an easy opportunity to make the switch, leaving Braun hidden in the anteroom while her substitute was burned with Hitler in the Chancellory garden above. In the chaos that followed, Braun, her physical appearance altered and dressed as the SS captain who’d arrived hours earlier, left the bunker.
    She was flown out of Berlin to Austria on one of the last flights. From there she traveled by train to Switzerland, no different from thousands of other displaced women. Her journey, using new identity papers and money provided by Bormann, was easy.
    Eventually, she made it to Spain, and there they stayed until the spring of 1946, under the protection of a local fascist leader. Transportation to South America was arranged on an oil transport by a Greek sympathizer, so they traveled to Chile. Nazis had congregated there since the war, most in heavily fortified estancias south of Santiago. Bormann felt crowded, so he and Braun settled near the Argentine border in the lake district until the lure of Africa drew him back across the Atlantic.

    â€œBormann never let Eva Braun forget that she owed him her life,” Schüb said. “He loved to retell the story of her survival, and the part he played. It was his way of asserting superiority, making sure she knew that he was the only reason she still breathed.”
    Wyatt was amazed at what he was hearing. History had never been a great interest of his, but it was hard to ignore the impact of what Schüb was saying.
    â€œThey were married in Africa.”
    â€œWhy?”
    â€œShe was pregnant again, and he wanted the baby to be legitimate.” The older man paused. “Theirs was a difficult relationship. Her dead husband, the man she truly loved, told her to rely on Bormann. She tried to follow Hitler’s will, but Bormann was difficult. Ithelped that, before the war ended, their initial disdain of each other had somewhat faded. Bormann was the one who provided her with money. Took care of her needs. She respected his power.”
    A moment of silence passed between them.
    â€œStrange was his personality,” Schüb said. “Capable of murdering millions, yet concerned that his offspring would be called a bastard.”
    â€œWhat happened to Hitler’s child?”
    â€œBraun gave birth in January 1946. The baby was robust and healthy. That occurred while they were still in Spain. They did not arrive in Chile until early 1947. The child did not make the journey. Bormann took the baby at birth. He was tasked by Hitler with taking care of Braun and the child. But that never happened.”
    He understood. Once Hitler was dead, Bormann made the rules.
    â€œEva Braun bled to death giving birth to Bormann’s child. That was in 1954.”
    A muffled sound filled the air overhead, like a breeze. He glanced up to see birds, not a hurried or confused flight, but a pilgrimage, their shadows flitting across the moon.
    â€œThe night is their refuge,” Schüb said. “They will return at dawn.”
    He continued to watch until the last of the shadows faded into the blackness. He faced Schüb and said, “Did you kill Isabel and the book dealer?”
    There was hesitation while the old man caught his breath.
    Then Schüb swiveled his head like an owl and said, “Be patient, Mr. Wyatt, and I will tell you everything.”

    He wondered if that was a good thing.
    I will tell you everything.
    Why?
    These secrets had stayed buried a long time. Why share them now? Particularly with someone who could repeat them.
    Which made him wonder.
    Was the next bullet to the head his?
    â€œChristopher Combs has become a problem,” Schüb said. “He fancies himself a treasure