The Deadly Embrace Read Online Free PDF Page A

girlfriend, who was nicknamed Tops.
    “The air marshal is besotted with her and bends to her every wish,” he wrote. “Here he is with a whole army quaking at his feet, and he is like putty in her hands. I saw something just before we flew up here from North Africa that you wouldn’t have believed. There we were on the runway, four lieutenant generals and all the staff cooling our heels, waiting for old Tops. Finally, a two-ton truck pulls up next to the plane and she gets out. Would you believe that the truck was filled with antique furniture, Persian rugs, drums of olive oil, and a load of other things blacklisted in England according to the King’s regulations? Well, it was, and she was bent on smuggling it all back. Sir Arthur stood there begging her to relent, but when she threatened not to go he had me round up some enlisted men to load it all into the cargo bay. I just hope the IG doesn’t get word of it.”
    In another letter, a senior staff officer declared to his wife that General George Patton had been having an ongoing affair with his niece, Jean Gordon, ever since he had been stationed in Hawaii before the war. According to the officer, she was on her way over to England to work as a doughnut girl at one of the canteens and to resume her affair with the general.
    Still another letter revealed that General Eisenhower was romantically involved with his Irish limousine driver, Kay Summersby.
    It was astonishing to Liza that Americans were apparently so guileless about keeping secrets. After considering the matter, Liza decided not to flag any of the passages, concluding that gossip was probably endemic in every army, and that it was of no strategic value to the Germans. Besides, if she began flagging all the gossipy revelations, she would have run out of the adhesive stickers before lunch.
    As the day wore on, she learned that Charlie liked the room very cool, and J.P. liked it very warm. Depending on which one had last adjusted the hot-water intake to the radiator, the room alternated between a dank chill and stuffy airlessness.
    At lunchtime, two elderly ladies came down the corridor with a large tea cart loaded with urns of tea and coffee, along with a selection of lunch items, including soup, pork pies, Cornish pasties, cut sandwiches, and bread, all of it available for a few shillings.
    J.P invited Liza to join her at lunch in the canteen upstairs, but Liza decided to stay and work at her desk after buying soup and a beetroot salad from the trolley. She read letters all that afternoon, taking one more break at four o’clock, when the trolley came back down their corridor laden with tea and scones.
    At six o’clock, people started filtering down the corridor and heading home in the London darkness. At seven, Liza was the only one left in their office. She thought about going back to the hotel, but there was nothing of interest waiting there for her. She decided to stay and work.
    As the hours passed, it became a matter of personal pride to watch the tall stack of unread letters slowly melt away on top of her desk. She was in the middle of a long missive about the romantic yearnings of a Brooklyn dental officer when she looked up to see a two-star American general staring at her from the doorway. He was the first general she had ever met, and she leapt to attention.
    “Can I help you, sir?” she asked, not sure whether to salute him, since he was holding his cap in his hand.
    “Just continue your work,” he said gruffly, in a voice used to command.
    Even with the poor illumination from the corridor, Liza could see the simian quality in his excessively long arms and prognathous jaw. She watched his eyes slowly train down the front of her uniform. Sitting back down at her desk, she picked up the last letter she had been reading. Even without looking back toward the doorway Liza knew he hadn’t left. A few seconds later, she heard one of the office chair legs squeak as he brushed past it.
    “Do J.P and