Chapter Twenty-four
Franz Mannheim paced the floor of his penthouse apartment, a cruel smile crinkling his face, something that many people had learned to fear instantly. His world consisted of numerous obedient acolytes, several beautiful mistresses, two bitter ex-wives and an assorted collection of criminal associates. Children had never been entertained in his plans – past, present or future. His own sense of self-belief was limitless, and although notions of friendship and loyalty were occasionally entertained, ruthlessness and revenge were his main pillars of faith.
Superbly fit, and of medium height, Mannheim possessed a wiry physique and sandy hair that in his mid-sixties was gradually turning to a light grey. In a previous life, he had been an SS officer – never a fanatical follo
