disease. So he goes back to Germany. He kills as many Germans as he can in the streets. This is the straightest, meekest man. Terrific doctor. Good friend. He’s partially ashamed of the fantasy, but he has no control over it. It’s a fact of his life as a survivor. Every time he walks up in Yorkville, it comes down on him like the Furies. Lately, I’m beginning to understand the feeling myself. “Remember I told you about meeting with Benjamin Rabinowitz,” David continued. “I don’t know everything there is to know—far from it—but my grandmother was a contributor to a secretive Jewish group. Benjamin Rabinowitz was one of the group’s leaders. They were heavily involved in the search for Nazi criminals after the war. Elena was always a little vague with me about it. The group’s methods weren’t exactly orthodox or legal. That much I know about.” David stood up and stretched out his arms. He was feeling terribly uncomfortable. He was saying everything but what he actually wanted to say. The words that were right on the tip of his tongue. Had been for about ten minutes. They were both feeling uncomfortable now. “My grandmother was also very close to a man named Michael Ben-Iban. Ben-Iban is in the secret Jewish group. He’s one of the Nazi-hunters still working inside Germany.” Alix nodded. She was listening—intently listening to every word. “Right now, Ben-Iban is apparently trying to stop whatever it is the Nazis are up to. Ben-Iban is in England at the moment. In London, his people told me.” Finally, David felt he had to blurt the rest out. Get it over with. Say what had to be said. “Now that Elena is dead, I think I’d like to help the Jewish group if I can.” David self-consciously lit up a cigarette. “Of course, I don’t know how much help I can be. Maybe it’s just money.” He clicked his lighter shut. “There’s also a little unsolved mystery attached to my brother Nick’s film. Nick made about half of The Fourth Commandment in Europe. Germany, England, Paris. I’ve been reading through some of his production notes. He’d made contact with some of the old Nazis. Some wealthy men and women. Respectable European business people. It all sounds a little like Alfred Hitchcock right now, but—” David stopped in the middle of the sentence and smiled. “I’m babbling. Why do you let me babble like this?” “You’re trying to tell me something,” Alix whispered. “So tell me. What are you trying to say, David?” David nodded. “All right. I have to go to Europe .” He finally said it. “I’d like to do … to be honest, I don’t know exactly what. I just have to go. I have to see Michael Ben-Iban. Talk to him in London. Hear what he thinks. For Nick, Elena, Heather. For myself, I guess. I have to try to find out more about the Nazis. I have to try and help.” Alix swayed gently in one of the antique porch rockers. Horowitz was playing a Chopin sonata inside now. Alix’s heart was beating faster than the great pianist’s fingers. She didn’t have time to stop and logically figure everything out. What made sense; what didn’t. Alix let her emotional side make the decision. “David, if you’re going to ask me to stay with you, to go with you, I will,” she finally said. “If you’re not asking me, then I’d like to ask you. Please?” Alix Rothschild stood up. She walked over to David. For a moment they were both very quiet. “I’m asking you to go with me,” David finally said. They were holding hands again. This time a little more tightly. Alix was thinking that her own problems could wait. They could wait until she was certain David was ready to understand her nightmares, if such a time would ever come. The following evening they were in London. Nazi-hunting.
CHAPTER 34 Nice. The French Riviera. The Storm Troop began to march again during the final days of June. In the most curious manner, and in some of the strangest