State Of The Union

“Well, when it is settled, maybe you’ll agree to stay?” asked Nixie, the consummate saleswoman.

“Maybe next time,” said Herman with a smile. “We need to speak with Gerda. Is she in, please?”

It shouldn’t have surprised Harvath that Herman knew the madam by her first name, but it did nevertheless. He looked over at DeWolfe, who was standing in front of a flat panel monitor in a gilded frame showing what looked like runway footage from the Victoria’s Secret fashion show, but what Harvath assumed was a promotional piece highlighting the staff of the King George.

“Boy are Carlson and Avigliano going to be sorry that they missed this,” said DeWolfe, whose eyes were glued to the screen. “I think I just fell in love. Yup. Oh, wow! It just happened again. These women are incredible.”

“Easy, Trigger,” said Harvath. “As well-funded as you boys are, there’s no way tricky Ricky would let you expense something like this. And you could save up a week’s per diem and not be able to pay for what you’re looking at there. So do yourself a favor and step away from the monitor. That’s it, stepaway from the monitor.”

DeWolfe did as Harvath suggested and rejoined his colleagues at Nixie’s desk.

Hanging up the phone, the attractive blond said, “I’m sorry, Herr Toffle, but it appears Frau Putzkammer was called away a short time ago and has not yet returned.”

“Do you have a cell phone number we could reach her at?”

“I tried her handy already, but there was no answer. I hope it is nothing serious.”

Herman looked at Harvath. “How much time do we have?”

“Less than forty-five minutes,” replied Harvath checking his Kobold.

“Actually, Nixie,” replied Herman. “This is very serious and we don’t have much time.”

“Herr Toffle, if there is a way I can be of assistance to you, please say so.”

Herman looked again at Harvath, torn as to how much he should share with Nixie. When Harvath raised his watch ever so slightly and tapped it, Herman decided they only had time for the direct approach. “Years ago, Gerda, Frau Putzkammer, worked closely with a group of American military men, and now one of them has been very badly injured here in Berlin. We believe he was a friend of Frau Putzkammer’s and that if she knew about his situation, she would want to help him.”

“Of course,” said Nixie. “She has often spoken of the American military men who were some of her best customers.”

“I am sure and that is very kind of her, but these men were very serious, elite soldiers. We’re not talking about ordinary American GIs. This group, Frau Putzkammer would definitely remember.”

Nixie’s façade seemed to soften. “When would these men have been in Berlin?”

“Before the wall came down. They were a small group charged with-”

“Für die Sicherheit?” asked Nixie, cutting off Herman’s sentence.

“Yes,” answered Harvath. “But how could you know that?”

“Let me get someone to take over for me, and we can talk,” said Nixie as she pressed one of the many buttons on her phone and spoke in rapid fire German. Moments later a stunning redhead emerged from a discreet side door to relieve Nixie, who then showed her guests out of the reception area and into a small elevator.

They rode to the fifth floor where the elevator opened up onto a gorgeous, antique filled penthouse apartment.

This was a part of the King George even Herman had apparently never seen before. “Frau Putzkammer’s abode?” he asked.

“Actually, it isour home,” replied Nixie.

“You meanyou and Gerdaare?”

“Mother and daughter,” said Nixie, cutting Herman off before he could say what he really thought their relationship was. “My full name is Viveka Nicollet Putzkammer.”

“I had no idea,” offered Herman, stunned.

“Not many people do. That’s the way mother has always wanted it. After private boarding schools in both France and Switzerland, I received my bachelor’s degree at the University of Southern California and my MBA at Kellogg in Chicago, then I returned home to Berlin to help run the family business.”

“And from the looks of everything,” replied Herman, “you’ve been doing a very good job.”

“But how did you know aboutFür die Sicherheit?” interjected Harvath.

Nixie motioned for her guests to take a seat in the sunken living room, as she crossed a series of beautiful oriental carpets and retrieved a large beer stein from atop one of the many bookshelves lining the far wall. Returning with the mug, she smiled as she handed it to Harvath and said, “One of my mother’s most prized possessions.”

He didn’t need to read the inscription on it to know what it was. Seeing the piece of barbed wire wrapped around the bottom was enough.

“Where’d she get this?” asked Harvath.

“It was a gift,” replied Nixie.