Chosen of the Valkyries (Twilight Of The Gods Book 2) Read Online Free

the crack of dawn,” Kuls added, darkly.  “He was rarely home until late at night, at least until the government fell.  Since then, he merely stayed in his room and never left.”
     
    Herman snorted.  “Did she happen to know when he had visitors?”
     
    “Apparently, one of the boys would occasionally come and clean the apartment for him,” Kuls said.  “But he never had any other visitors.”
     
    “I see,” Herman said.  A landlady in Berlin could be relied upon to know everything about her tenants, from where they worked to how often they slept together.  They were often the best sources a policeman could hope for.  “Did anyone come today?”
     
    “Not as far as she knows,” Kuls said.  “But that proves nothing.”
     
    “No,” Herman agreed. 
     
    He contemplated the possibilities, one after the other.  An SS officer - a Standartenfuehrer - would have been very useful, if he’d reported to the provisional government.  It wasn't as if there weren't other SS officers helping to rebuild the Reich .  But he’d stayed where he was, hiding.  A spy?  A coward?  No, that was unlikely.  He’d disliked the SS long before it had arrested his daughter, but he had to admit that SS officers were rarely cowards.  They often led their men from the front.  And yet, this one had become a schoolmaster.  Jokes aside, schools weren’t actually war zones ...
     
    But he would probably have impressed the brats , Herman thought, grimly.  A man who has marched into the teeth of enemy fire isn't going to be scared of a naughty teenage boy .
     
    Herman shook his head.  The victim had known his killer, he was sure; he’d let him directly into the apartment.  Or killers, if there had been more than one.  And yet ...
     
    He sighed.  Normally, a team of experts would tear the dead man’s life apart, looking for the person who’d killed him.  A murderer could not be allowed to get away with killing a Standartenfuehrer , even if the Standartenfuehrer had retired.  It set a bad example.  And yet, with the police force in such disarray, it was unlikely there would be a solid attempt to find the killer.  Herman doubted they’d even take the time to dust for fingerprints before dumping the body into a mass grave and handing the apartment back to the landlady.
     
    Unless we find something that leads us straight to the killer , he thought.  But what ?
     
    “We search the apartment, thoroughly,” he said.  “And if we find nothing, we’ll just have to make arrangements to dispose of the body.”
     
    “Of course,” Kuls said.
     
    Herman shot him a sharp look as they walked back into the kitchen and began to search with practiced efficiency.  The landlady would be furious, when she discovered all her drawers dumped on the floor, but there was no help for it.  Herman’s instructors - when he’d joined the police - had shown him just how easy it was to conceal something, particularly something small, within a kitchen or bedroom.  Taking the whole edifice apart was time-consuming, but it was the only way to be sure there was nothing hiding there. 
     
    “My wife would have a heart attack,” Kuls said, when they’d finished the kitchen.  “No tools at all.”
     
    “Mine too,” Herman said.
     
    He smirked at the thought as they walked into the bedroom and started dismantling the wardrobe, piece by piece.  It was an older design, practically fixed to the wall.  And yet, there was enough space behind the panel for something to be hidden ... he grinned in sudden delight as he felt a concealed envelope.  It refused to budge until he tugged the panelling back completely, then pulled.  The envelope came free and fell into his hand.
     
    “He was hiding something,” Kuls observed.
     
    “Looks that way,” Herman agreed.
     
    He led the way back into the living room and opened the envelope.  A handful of photographs fell out and landed on the floor.  He sighed, picked the first one