Trophy Read Online Free PDF Page A

I told you I’d leave it for the time being.” He walked to his car, a dark red Porsche 944 Turbo. A rich man’s toy.
    Ecker accompanied him, and stood to one side as he unlocked the car and climbed in. He started the engine. Ecker was still standing there. He lowered his window.
    “What’s up, Johann?”
    Ecker came forward, leaned on the car, and lowered his head. “Why don’t you come over and spend the night with us?”
    “I’ve got a perfectly good bed waiting for me.”
    “You’ve been in that house by yourself for a month now. My Erika’s worried about you. You know she is. Ever since Anne-Marie went back to Munich … Erika thinks you’re going to sell the house and move into the Fliegerhorst Mess. You can’t do that. There’s never anyone there except a few green Fähnrich officer candidates waiting for assignment. You’ll be bored out of your mind.”
    “You tell my little cousin I’m all right.” Hohendorf smiled. “Who would have thought it? I take my back-seater home for a weekend and the next thingthat happens, my cousin’s married him. Nothing can be worse for a pilot than to have a navigator in the family.”
    “She feels I have to look after you.”
    “She would. As for my wandering wife … tell Erika things will sort themselves out. She’s not to worry. Anne-Marie and I understand each other.”
    “But—”
    Hohendorf grinned. “Goodnight, Johann.”
    He put the car into gear. Ecker stood back, and he accelerated out of the car park. As he turned into the road that would eventually take him to the main gate, a pair of Tornadoes curved in to land, their presence betrayed by the noise of their engines, and the winking of their nav lights.
    Ecker stood in the cold car park, watching the tail lights of the Porsche until they eventually disappeared.
    Then slowly, he made his way towards his own car.

Chapter
3
    “So what does it feel like to be a paid killer?”
    “Better than being an unpaid one.”
    “Touché!” she said, almost approvingly. “Either you’ve had practice dealing with awkward questions, or someone’s been teaching you how.”
    “I hate to disappoint you, but no one’s been teaching me. I haven’t had to answer silly questions like that before, either.” Selby glanced at the revelers. He and the girl were almost shouting to make themselves heard above the racket. “But I expect tonight may well make up for it.”
    “You don’t really like us, do you?”
    “To tell you the truth, I have no strong feelings either way.”
    “Contempt, then. I see.”
    He said nothing. He didn’t know the young woman looking mockingly up at him, and he didn’t want to.
    About the time that Hohendorf was leaving his base in Schleswig, it was 23.15 in London. A winter’s ball was in full swing and the guests, having had their fill of a substantial banquet, were settling down to an evening of serious dancing and drinking.
    The ballroom and main restaurant of one of the bigger London hotels had been engaged for the night, and one of the three hired bands was onstage. People in dinner suits and ball gowns were moving gracelessly to the disco beat of the music. A few of the younger men had removed their jackets, while their partners had abandoned their shoes and hitched up their long skirts, to dance more freely. There was a lot of leg showing.
    Selby and his companion were standing on a balcony overlooking the dance floor. His eyes were searching the crowd below.
    “If you’re looking for that pretty girl who was at your table, she’s over there, I’m afraid, being monopolised by the dreaded Reggie.”
    He looked, and in a far corner recognised the long sweep of dark hair, a man’s hand resting possessively on the shoulder beneath it.
    “Not jealous, are you?” his pushy companion teased.
    He turned to look at her. Small, neat body. Short black hair, thickish eyebrows and wide-apart dark eyes full of mischief. A small, sharp nose, but a generous mouth. She wore a black