Free Trophy by Julian Jay Savarin Page B

button. He was saddened by the breakdown of the relationship, but not as devastated as most people thought. Their families had expected the marriage ever since they were teenagers, and so had their friends. Unfortunately, neither the expectations of family and friends nor a profitable business partnership—a thriving domestic airline combined with a pharmaceutical company with outlets in practically every town and city in the country—guaranteed a lifetime of marital bliss.
    In truth, neither should have married the other. They would have been good friends, he now thought; he had never loved her, and now the wrongness of the marriage had turned Anne-Marie into a person he could not even like. Its collapse had let her become the perfect stereotype of a spoiled little rich girl.
    He was not looking forward to seeing her in München. Dinah Washington continued to tell him about September in the rain as the Porsche took him towards Tecklenburg.
    *   *   *
    Schloss Hohendorf lay in secluded grounds outside Tecklenburg, at the edge of the Teutoburg forest in Westphalia. A long tarmac drive threaded its narrow way through a thick colony of tall beach trees that seemed to form a guard of honor on either side. Stripped of their foliage by the winter, their trunks rose skeletally into the night.
    The lights of the Porsche blazed at them as Hohendorf accelerated along the final stretch. As a boy, this section had always made him feel as if he were coming to the end of a tunnel. That feeling was still with him and his acceleration had been an unconscious response, an eagerness to be home at last.
    He came to the small bridge that spanned the streamfed moat surrounding the castle. The building itself dated back to the 15th century, but many updates and repairs had given it a thoroughly postBismark look. Designed as a shallow U-shape, it had a steepled turret attached to its right wing. A wide patio about two meters above ground level was at its center, flanked by two broad flights of steps that descended to the wide gravelled circle into which the drive led. The center of the circle was occupied by a bare patch of ground which in spring and summer became a brightly colored flower bed. A cobbled strip crossed the bridge, to pass between two square pillars, each topped by a graceful stone urn.
    Positioned centrally in its own small tower on the steep roof of the castle was the white face of aclock. Lights from the gravelled circle played upon it, making it a beacon when seen from the darkness of the tree-lined drive.
    Hohendorf slowly guided the Porsche between the pillars and drove round, tires crunching loudly on the gravel, to park nose-on between the steps. As he turned off the engine the patio lights came on and tall double-doors, paneled with thick squares of glass, swung open. By the time he had got out of the car and bounded up the steps with his small travel bag, his mother was waiting for him.
    She was a tall, slim woman with a regal air. But the warm smile of welcome transformed her features into an expression of almost girlish pleasure. Her blonde hair was as rich as when she was younger.
    “Axel!” she whispered, hugging him.
    He kissed her quickly. “Inside, Mother. I don’t want you freezing out here.” He put a protective arm about her, taking her back inside.
    “I’m not an invalid, Axel.”
    “You’re not well, either,” he countered, shutting the door. The entire building, during its most recent period of alterations, had been efficiently modernized and was pleasantly warm. “After all, you’re not as strong as you used to be.”
    “Nonsense. I am as strong a Bavarian as I ever was. It’s just my usual winter chill. I’ve borne two strong children, and I’m still only fifty. So don’t try and write me off as yet, young man.”
    Hohendorf smiled, kissed her on the forehead. “I wouldn’t dare.”
    His words pleased her, as her own smile showed. “Your father’s away in Japan on business,