City Of Spies. Nina Berry

City Of Spies - Nina Berry


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said. “That’s another reason we think Von Albrecht’s our man. The fight between the gangs seems to have been over how ‘pure’ bloodlines were. Dieter and his friends are children of recent German immigrants, too new to Argentina for the leader of the other gangs.”

      “So even the purest Aryan son of a Nazi wasn’t pure enough for this other gang?” Pagan shook her head. “If the fascists are fighting among themselves, they should do us all a favor and kill one another off.”

      “Unfortunately, they haven’t forgotten that they hate the Jews more than anyone. The barrio where Dieter’s school is, and where Von Albrecht teaches, has a large Jewish population and a history of anti-Semitic violence. So it’s very lucky for us that you’ll be shooting a scene of your movie on the grounds of that school tomorrow.”

      “The big dancing-in-the-courtyard scene?” Pagan had memorized the entire horrible script in spite of its awfulness, as well as the shooting schedule. “How’d you manage that?”

      Devin raised his eyebrows in an exaggeratedly innocent way. “Who says I had anything to do with it? To round out the report, Von Albrecht has a daughter, Emma, two years younger than Dieter, sixteen.”

      “Von Albrecht’s a professor, so maybe I can wander into one of his classes tomorrow—a lecture,” Pagan said through a mouthful of steak. It was tender and succulent. “As soon as I hear him speak, I should be able to tell you if it’s the man I knew.”

      “We thought of that. But he took a sabbatical, a full year, and won’t lecture again until the fall.”

      “Why have the movie shoot near his workplace, then?” Pagan asked. “And don’t keep pretending you had nothing to do with that.”

      “Dieter and Emma will be there,” Devin said. “And it might be useful to have you near them, perhaps to meet them.”

      “Maybe I could join Dieter’s gang,” Pagan said, waving a forkful of steak airily. “I could establish my bona fides by telling them how I foiled the Communist East German army in Berlin.”

      “A gang of fascists might elect you their leader if they learned how you humiliated those Communist leaders,” Devin said in the same light tone. “Let’s hope gang membership won’t be necessary. But you do have a connection to their family via your mother. Emma and Dieter likely don’t know about her at all, but Von Albrecht will remember.”

      Pagan nodded, chewing. Perhaps she could use Von Albrecht’s sense of obligation to her mother to her advantage somehow. But first she needed a way to meet the man. “The more we know about him, the better, right?” she said. “Even though he’s not there, this is where he works and where his kids go to school. I could potentially learn a lot.”

      Devin stood up to pace over to the window, look down onto the tree-lined road and then pace back. “We’ve been following Von Albrecht for the past two months, hoping to find a pattern so we could set you up to run into him. But for the past three weeks he hasn’t left his house at all. Not once. He’s always spent the bulk of his nonworking time at home, but not to poke his head out of his own front door once in three weeks is very odd.”

      “Maybe he’s dead.”

      “Doubtful. Nothing else has changed. His children come and go in the same pattern—to school, errands, to parties with their friends and so on, with no sign of mourning or visits from mortuary personnel. The daughter, Emma, buys the same amount of food every week. So we’re pretty sure he’s still alive. No doctor visits, so he’s probably not ill, at least not seriously.”

      “Personnel,” Pagan said. “Never heard you use that word before. Sounds...military.”

      “I’m officially a lieutenant in Her Majesty’s Navy.” He pronounced it leftenant. “Unofficially, the men who face real combat wouldn’t consider me very military.”

      “So how do I get to see and hear this guy if he’s locked up in his house?” she asked. “I’m way too messy to be convincing as his new maid.”

      “I told you that you wouldn’t need to pretend to be anyone but yourself. I’ve got an idea.” He stopped pacing. She detected a challenge in his stormy gaze. “You’re a movie star of German descent, after all. And a lonely girl in a strange city.”

      Pagan, who didn’t feel the least bit lonely, met his eyes with a small, pleased smile. “So empty inside and in need of rescue. How well you know me.”

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