S. S. Paris
Reinhard Heydrich crossed the lobby of the Hotel Crillon toward them. Lynn turned to Melissa and whispered, “Why do I get the feeling I’m about to lose my head?”
“Maybe because King Louis XVI was guillotined directly in front of this building,” she replied with a light chuckle. “Let me take the lead.”
Already nicknamed the “limping lady” by Berlin’s Gestapo, Captain Hall hoped they had no other description that would identify her. Without hesitation, she acquiesced to Melissa’s request. Reinhard Heydrich was a man all of one piece—tall, blonde, athletic, long-skulled with a slender, pinky-white face and narrow nose with a high bridge. He exemplified to a tee what she expected an SS man should be.
Melissa gestured for her to stay put. She strolled toward him.
The discussion that entailed appeared one-sided, dependent upon Melissa’s gregarious personality for its continuity. In short, Lynn concluded he was a man of few words, apparently not given to the love of talk. His bearing, on the other hand, said something else. It oozed uninhibitedly with a high degree of entitlement and vanity. He kept glancing at her. His icy gray-blue eyes sent chills up Lynn’s spine and she wrestled to remain calm and self-contained. Suddenly, Reinhard turned and, with a cursory glance over his shoulder at Lynn, re-joined his companions. A short outburst of laughter erupted between them before they were ushered to their table by the maître d’.
“What was that all about? From that smirk on your face, maybe you shouldn’t tell me.” Lynn’s gaze refocused on the dining room.
“He thought we were whores.”
“He wanted to retain our services for the rest of the day. He offered a goodly sum. Difficult to turn down. We could have made a tidy amount.”
“We?! Are you kidding me?!”
“Hush! Keep your voice down, Lynn.” She took Lynn’s arm and led her toward the lift. “According to Walter Schellenberg—”
“A friend of Heydrich.”
“How do you? Never mind.” Lynn shook her head in dismay. “Go on.”
Melissa drew closer to Lynn. “Well, Walter told me that Heydrich’s only weakness is his insatiable appetite for sex.” Melissa flicked her eyebrows. “Ooh-la-la.”
“Sometimes you disgust me. And this is one of those times. My God, Melissa! He’s a man who’s lost t...