Free In Satan's Shadow by John Anthony Miller Page B

her predicament, annoyed for not having seen it, mourning the years she squandered. She didn’t want to waste another minute with a man she didn’t trust, regardless of how much she loved him, if it was even possible to love him knowing what he was.
    She was even angrier at herself. She was stranded, stuck, no escape possible, and there was no one else to blame. She understood the risks when she married him and moved to Germany, but she had somehow managed to minimize them. Now, even if she could flee Berlin, Manfred would find her. And she could never get back to the United Kingdom. She didn’t have many options.
    Two days passed before he finally came home. He had sent no message, never called, offered no explanation why he was gone. He just appeared, as if he had left only minutes before, expecting to be welcomed by his loving wife.
    She confronted him as soon as he walked in the door. “I saw you with the bank manager the other day,” she said, amazingly calm given the situation.
    He looked at her like she was crazy. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
    “The Berlin Bank, Gretchen Baumgartner. I know all about her.” She shook her head with disgust, fighting tears. “And I was stupid enough to think you were going to change.”
    His expression altered, knowing he was caught and that a confrontation couldn’t be avoided. He shrugged. “So I’m guilty of a mild indiscretion. Do you know how hard it is for a man as powerful as me to resist these temptations?”
    Her face grew taut. “I think it would be easy if you loved your wife.”
    “Amanda, don’t be ridiculous. This has nothing to do with love. It’s sport, a game, no different than football. No different than enjoying a good cigar.”
    “You are so disgusting,” she said, her voice trembling. “I don’t even know you. I only thought I did.”
    He laughed. “You’re always so dramatic. What are you going to do about it? Tell me, because I can’t wait to hear.”
    She didn’t answer, hatred in her eyes. Without warning, she swung her arm in a wide arc, trying to slap his face.
    He caught her hand and pushed it away. His face reddened, his anger brewing. “I’ll tell you what you’re going to do,” he said, pointing a finger in her face. “Absolutely nothing. You’re going to pretend you don’t even know. Like a good German wife.”
    “I will not,” Amanda said defiantly, her lips trembling. “I have no interest in a fake marriage, wasting my life with someone I don’t love.”
    “Really?” he asked with feigned disbelief, sarcastic and condescending. “You’re not going to leave me and go back to Scotland, are you?”
    “If I could figure out how, I would.”
    He grabbed her as she fought to push him away, hugging her tightly, kissing her forehead, trying to annoy her.
    “Get away from me!” she demanded.
    He released her, amused. “Amanda, darling, we make a perfect couple. Let’s not forget that.”
    “Not anymore,” she said. “I’m leaving you. I’ll move out and go to a hotel.”
    His face hardened. “I’m afraid that’s not possible,” he said, struggling to control himself. “Because if you leave, I will find you. And then I will have you put in an insane asylum. The headlines will read: Violinist has nervous breakdown after losing baby in train wreck .”
    She glared at him. “I despise you.”
    “You’ll learn to overcome that,” he said, mocking her. “And you’ll stay in Berlin, in this house, and be the dutiful wife, making sure your husband’s needs are met. Because there’s nothing else you can do.”

 
    CHAPTER 14
     
    York went to Olivaer Platz at 10 a.m. on Friday. A park intersected with cobblestone walkways, lined with trees, accented with flowers, and sprinkled with benches, it offered an oasis of serenity in a sea of streets and boulevards. He was meeting Max, six weeks after their initial contact in Basel, just as they had planned.
    York had worked with him in France. He