CHAPTER 17
Major Ziegler sat on the couch in Claudette Maes’ apartment, fussing over her purring cat. Bayer and Sternberg were in chairs across from him, neither speaking. The soldier stood in the kitchen, looking out the back window.
They had only been there a few minutes when a woman walked in the door. About thirty with blonde hair and brown eyes, she carried a bag in her arm, a loaf of bread sticking out of the top. “What is going on?” she asked, eyes wide.
“Come in,” Ziegler commanded.
She looked at Sternberg. “Jacob, what are you doing in my apartment?” She eyed the broken door jamb. “What did you do?”
“Claudette, someone stole the diamonds,” Sternberg said as he got out of the chair, trying to explain. “The industrial diamonds in the vault.”
Maes came closer, her face pale. “I
