Book 3, Burton Crane
Chapter 2IT TOOK THE PROCESSION of bikers a couple of minutes to pass. The men from Verfassungsschutz watched them gun down the road. Some shook their heads in relief. A lost STASI dossier was nothing to them. As the last bikes rounded a curve in the road and disappeared from view, the sound died away. The murmur of the brook came back to hold sway over the empty domain. A few birds saw fit to serenade Burton Crane in his discomfiture. A few minutes later, four white buses appeared around the same curve.
Although nothing incriminating would be found in camp, the BKA went about securing the grounds with all the Sturm and Drang of the Teutonic tribes. They would be back in Munich for afternoon beer. Crane trailed up the front path behind a stout Kriminaloberkommissar B
