Chapter Eighteen
The first night at the Hotel Meurice Martha chose to sleep alone, telling Vogel it was nothing personal, but for all her faults she did not jump between the sheets with anyone.
Wearing just a dressing gown, arms folded a lit cigarette between her fingers, and whipped backside resting on an antique table she told him. “Of course Klaus you could always drag me to your bed and have your way with me. But could you really sleep well wondering what I am doing?”
“Doing? Is that some threat?”
“No Klaus. No threat. A promise.”
“You’d best take the spare room then. I have no intention of upsetting you.”
“Time Klaus. That’s all I ask for.”
“Then goodnight.”
Neck as stiff as his back, Vogel marched into the master suite and quietly closed the doors behind him.
“And goodnight
