Secret Honor (Honor Bound 3)

“I would have no idea where to look for women in Lisbon.”

“But you’re resourceful, Karl. I know that.”

[FOUR]

2305 8 May 1943

Over dinner the wine and Champagne flowed freely. When they’d finished, Cranz announced he knew about a nightclub famous for its floor show they all might want to see.

“I’m not much for floor shows,” Boltitz announced. “I thought I’d take Hans on a tour of Lisbon’s other cultural attractions.”

Obviously, Peter decided, our separation has been prearranged. Cranz is going to find out what he can from Die Grosse Wienerwurst and von Tresmarck, and Boltitz will do the same with me.

“I’m going to have a nightcap in the bar and go to bed,” Peter announce

d.

“We’ll start in the bar and see where that leads us.”

“I think the señorita likes you, Hans,” Boltitz said after the bartender had delivered a second cognac. He nodded toward two young women sitting in a banquette.

“Do me a favor, Karl,” Peter said. “Don’t call me ‘Hans.’”

“OK. Why not?”

“When I was a kid, they called me ‘Hansel,’ as in ‘Hansel and Gretel.’”

Boltitz laughed. “I think the señorita likes you, Peter. OK?”

“Why shouldn’t she like me? Not only am I handsome beyond her wildest dreams, but I look as if I can probably afford her.”

“You think they’re whores?”

“I would say there is a very strong probability that two young women sitting in a hotel bar smiling at two obvious foreigners are business girls.”

“But such attractive business girls—”

“If you want to get your ashes hauled, Karl, go ahead.”

“I could put both of them on my expense voucher as ‘research expenses.’”

“‘In connection with investigating what happened on the beach of Samborombón Bay’?”

“Well, that’s why I’m here.”

“Why don’t you just ask me, and save the Reich some money?”

“Is there anything wrong with mixing business with pleasure?”

“Look…you don’t have to. Just ask me what you want to know.”

“You have a girl,” Boltitz challenged. “You’re being faithful! Will wonders never cease? A Luftwaffe fighter pilot turning down some hanky-panky!”

“With all possible respect, Herr Korvettenkapitän Boltitz, whether I have a girl or not is none of your goddamn business. But I will tell you this: Despite the damage it might do to the reputation of Luftwaffe fighter pilots as the world’s greatest swordsmen, I am uncomfortable with the notion of this one hopping into bed with the first available prostitute who spreads her legs, even at the expense of the SS.”

“I’m not SS, I’m Abwehr,” Boltitz blurted.

“Is there a difference?”