was not a brilliant man, but he was smart enough to know when a battle was lost. “Of course, Mr. Richter,” he said, shocked and stunned. “I would be happy to honor your request. We can’t wait to play Miss Schneider’s record. I’m sure it will be very popular.”
Richter stood to leave. He shook Gunther’s hand, his polite smile returning, even though it wasn’t genuine. “I knew it would be a pleasure to do business with you, Mr. Gunther. Miss Schneider is a rising star. And that’s exactly how you will treat her.”
CHAPTER 17
Amanda Hamilton looked at York, her eyes wide, her mouth moving but producing no sounds. She glanced quickly in all directions, scanning the park to ensure no one was watching them, before her eyes returned to his. Another moment passed before she finally spoke.
“Are you trying to get yourself killed, Mr. Becker?” she asked, in German.
“No, I’m not,” he replied. “I’m trying to keep a lot of other people from getting killed.”
“And what do you want from me?”
He paused, trying to think of how to ease the tension. He didn’t want to end up like Kent. He smiled slightly, trying to disarm her.
“Continued conversations like we had at the café?” he asked, his eyebrows arched innocently.
“Somehow I think your interest goes beyond music.”
He sighed, studying her cautiously. “It does. Although I thoroughly enjoyed every word of our conversation.”
She tensed, her eyes fiery. “Why have you approached me like this? Who do you think you are?”
“As I said before, we have much in common.”
“You don’t even know me,” she argued. “Why are you putting me in such a precarious position?”
“It wasn’t my intent,” York said. And he meant it. He didn’t want her harmed. Even if she was at risk.
“Then what is your intent?” she demanded.
He decided to be honest. “Information,” he said simply.
“What makes you think I have any? And if I did, what makes you think I would share it with you?”
“You have a wealth of information,” he said. “You just don’t realize it.”
“I don’t know why you think so. I’m a musician and a photographer. I have access to no state secrets. If you think I’m privy to what my husband does, you’re mistaken.”
“It’s much simpler,” he explained. “Information can be the people you know, the parties you attend, conversations you overhear. All of that can be summed, glued together like the pieces of a puzzle. Thousands of lives could be saved as a result.”
“I am a German citizen. Why would I do that?”
“Because your heart and soul are Scottish.”
“I would never betray my husband.”
York wondered if she meant it, especially after the latest infidelity. But he decided not to challenge her. “You can set your own boundaries. Tell me as much or as little as you want.”
She studied him closely for a moment, calculating, assessing his offer. “I don’t need any complications in my life,” she said, a saddened glaze consuming her eyes. “I’m vulnerable right now, very fragile. You don’t understand.”
“Yes, I do. I understand perfectly.” He paused, wanting to continue but not knowing if he should. He decided to reveal some of what he knew, but not to mention her husband. He touched her arm lightly. “I’m so sorry about the baby.”
Her face showed shock, wondering how he knew. But then she remembered. The newspapers described the accident and the extent of her injuries. She searched his eyes for sincerity, as if she wanted desperately to be understood and appreciated, to feel the sympathy of another human being.
“Thank you,” she said softly.
He saw a green uniform approach through the trees, walking slowly down the cobblestone lane. It was the Ordnungspolizei, or Orpo, the Berlin police. His eyes widened, knowing the danger, and shifted towards Amanda.
She saw his expression and turned, just as the policeman rounded the corner and came towards
Richter stood to leave. He shook Gunther’s hand, his polite smile returning, even though it wasn’t genuine. “I knew it would be a pleasure to do business with you, Mr. Gunther. Miss Schneider is a rising star. And that’s exactly how you will treat her.”
CHAPTER 17
Amanda Hamilton looked at York, her eyes wide, her mouth moving but producing no sounds. She glanced quickly in all directions, scanning the park to ensure no one was watching them, before her eyes returned to his. Another moment passed before she finally spoke.
“Are you trying to get yourself killed, Mr. Becker?” she asked, in German.
“No, I’m not,” he replied. “I’m trying to keep a lot of other people from getting killed.”
“And what do you want from me?”
He paused, trying to think of how to ease the tension. He didn’t want to end up like Kent. He smiled slightly, trying to disarm her.
“Continued conversations like we had at the café?” he asked, his eyebrows arched innocently.
“Somehow I think your interest goes beyond music.”
He sighed, studying her cautiously. “It does. Although I thoroughly enjoyed every word of our conversation.”
She tensed, her eyes fiery. “Why have you approached me like this? Who do you think you are?”
“As I said before, we have much in common.”
“You don’t even know me,” she argued. “Why are you putting me in such a precarious position?”
“It wasn’t my intent,” York said. And he meant it. He didn’t want her harmed. Even if she was at risk.
“Then what is your intent?” she demanded.
He decided to be honest. “Information,” he said simply.
“What makes you think I have any? And if I did, what makes you think I would share it with you?”
“You have a wealth of information,” he said. “You just don’t realize it.”
“I don’t know why you think so. I’m a musician and a photographer. I have access to no state secrets. If you think I’m privy to what my husband does, you’re mistaken.”
“It’s much simpler,” he explained. “Information can be the people you know, the parties you attend, conversations you overhear. All of that can be summed, glued together like the pieces of a puzzle. Thousands of lives could be saved as a result.”
“I am a German citizen. Why would I do that?”
“Because your heart and soul are Scottish.”
“I would never betray my husband.”
York wondered if she meant it, especially after the latest infidelity. But he decided not to challenge her. “You can set your own boundaries. Tell me as much or as little as you want.”
She studied him closely for a moment, calculating, assessing his offer. “I don’t need any complications in my life,” she said, a saddened glaze consuming her eyes. “I’m vulnerable right now, very fragile. You don’t understand.”
“Yes, I do. I understand perfectly.” He paused, wanting to continue but not knowing if he should. He decided to reveal some of what he knew, but not to mention her husband. He touched her arm lightly. “I’m so sorry about the baby.”
Her face showed shock, wondering how he knew. But then she remembered. The newspapers described the accident and the extent of her injuries. She searched his eyes for sincerity, as if she wanted desperately to be understood and appreciated, to feel the sympathy of another human being.
“Thank you,” she said softly.
He saw a green uniform approach through the trees, walking slowly down the cobblestone lane. It was the Ordnungspolizei, or Orpo, the Berlin police. His eyes widened, knowing the danger, and shifted towards Amanda.
She saw his expression and turned, just as the policeman rounded the corner and came towards
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