Jack Higgins - The Bormann Testament (The Testament of Caspar Schultz)
Here you can read online Jack Higgins - The Bormann Testament (The Testament of Caspar Schultz) full text of the book (entire story) in english for free. Download pdf and epub, get meaning, cover and reviews about this ebook. genre: Detective and thriller. Description of the work, (preface) as well as reviews are available. Best literature library LitArk.com created for fans of good reading and offers a wide selection of genres:
Romance novel
Science fiction
Adventure
Detective
Science
History
Home and family
Prose
Art
Politics
Computer
Non-fiction
Religion
Business
Children
Humor
Choose a favorite category and find really read worthwhile books. Enjoy immersion in the world of imagination, feel the emotions of the characters or learn something new for yourself, make an fascinating discovery.
- Book:The Bormann Testament (The Testament of Caspar Schultz)
- Author:
- Genre:
- Rating:5 / 5
- Favourites:Add to favourites
- Your mark:
- 100
- 1
- 2
- 3
- 4
- 5
The Bormann Testament (The Testament of Caspar Schultz): summary, description and annotation
We offer to read an annotation, description, summary or preface (depends on what the author of the book "The Bormann Testament (The Testament of Caspar Schultz)" wrote himself). If you haven't found the necessary information about the book — write in the comments, we will try to find it.
The Bormann Testament (The Testament of Caspar Schultz) — read online for free the complete book (whole text) full work
Below is the text of the book, divided by pages. System saving the place of the last page read, allows you to conveniently read the book "The Bormann Testament (The Testament of Caspar Schultz)" online for free, without having to search again every time where you left off. Put a bookmark, and you can go to the page where you finished reading at any time.
Font size:
Interval:
Bookmark:
Jack Higgins
The Bormann Testament (The Testament of Caspar Schultz)
The first book in the Paul Chavasse series, 1962
Previously published as The Testament of Caspar Schultz, 1962
AUTHORS NOTE
Ive explored the history of Nazi Germany and the Second World War in a number of novels, the most famous of them being The Eagle Has Landed. For me, the German connection has always been very personal. During the Cold War, I soldiered in the Royal Horse Guards in Berlin and patrolled the East German border, trying to stem the flood both of illegal refugees fleeing to the West as well as gangs of black marketers, usually ex-SS, who operated out of East Germany, using it as a refuge.
My uncle, a regular soldier in the British Army and a former prisoner of war, married a German war widow. Her nephew, Konrad, was a chief inspector in the Hamburg Criminal Investigation Department, and during the war had been drafted into the Gestapo, which needed experienced detectives. His stories about the top Nazis he had met fired my imagination, particularly anything to do with Martin Bormann, Hitlers right-hand man, who, according to legend, escaped from the bunker in Berlin in the last few days of the war.
So, The Bormann Testament was born. For legal and security reasons, however, my publishers in 1962 were only prepared to put it out if changes were made. The major result was that Martin Bormann vanished from the book and a fictional Nazi leader took over, as indicated by the title under which the novel was finally published, The Testament of Caspar Schultz.
But times have changed and this present offering, after so many years, is a return to what the original intended and a little more.
JACK HIGGINS
1962
London
Germany
CHAPTER 1
Chavasse lay with his head pillowed on one arm and stared up at the ceiling through the darkness. He was tired more tired than he had been in a long time, and yet he couldnt sleep. He switched on the bedside lamp and reached for a cigarette. As he struck a match, the telephone started to ring.
He lifted the receiver quickly and a womans voice sounded in his ear, cool and impersonal. Paul, is that you?
He pushed himself up against the pillow. Whos speaking?
Jean Frazer. Your flight got into London Airport from Greece three hours ago. Why havent you checked in?
Whats the rush? Chavasse said. I made a preliminary report from Athens yesterday. Ill see the Chief in the morning.
Youll see him now, Jean Frazer said. And youd better hurry. Hes been waiting for you since that flight got in.
Chavasse frowned. What the hell for? Ive just done two months in Greece and it wasnt pleasant. Im entitled to a nights sleep, at least.
Youre breaking my heart, she told him calmly. Now get your clothes on like a good little boy. Ill send a car round for you.
Her receiver clicked into place and he cursed softly and threw back the bedclothes. He pulled on a pair of pants and padded across to the bathroom in his bare feet.
His eyes were gritty from lack of sleep and there was a bad taste in his mouth. He filled a glass with water and drank it slowly, savoring its freshness, and then quickly rinsed his head and shoulders in cold water.
As he toweled himself dry, he examined his face in the mirror. There were dark circles under the eyes, and faint lines of fatigue had drawn the skin tightly over the high cheekbones that were a heritage from his French father.
It was a handsome, even an aristocratic, face, the face of a scholar, and somehow the ugly, puckered scar of the old gunshot wound in the left shoulder looked incongruous and out of place.
He fingered the flesh beneath the gray eyes and sighed. Christ, but you look like hell, he said softly, and the face in the mirror was illuminated by a smile of great natural charm. It was one of his most important assets.
He ran a hand over the two-day stubble of beard on his chin, decided against shaving, and returned to the bedroom. As he dressed, rain tapped against the window with ghostly fingers, and when he left the flat ten minutes later, he was wearing an old trench coat.
The car was waiting at the bottom of the steps when he went outside, and he climbed in beside the driver and sat there in silence, staring morosely into the night as they moved through deserted, rain-swept streets.
He was tired. Tired of living out of a suitcase, of hopping from one country to another, of being all things to all men and someone very different on the inside. For the first time in five years, he wondered why he didnt pack it all in, and then they turned in through the gates of the familiar house in St. Johns Wood and he grinned ruefully and pushed the thought away from him.
The car braked to a halt before the front door, and he got out without a word to the driver and mounted the steps. He pressed the bell beside the polished brass plate that carried the legend BROWN amp; COMPANY IMPORTERS amp; EXPORTERS, and waited.
After a few moments, the door opened and a tall, graying man in a blue serge suit stood to one side, a slight smile on his face. Nice to see you back, Mr. Chavasse.
Chavasse grinned and punched him lightly on the shoulder as he passed. Youre looking fine, Joe.
He went up the curving Regency staircase and passed along a thickly carpeted corridor. The only sound was a slight, persistent hum from the dynamo in the radio room, but he moved past the door and mounted two steps into another corridor. Here, the silence was absolute, and he opened a large, white-painted door at the far end and went in.
The room was small and plainly furnished, with a desk in one corner on which stood a typewriter and several telephones. Jean Frazer was bending over a filing cabinet and she looked up, a slight smile on her round, intelligent face. She removed her spectacles with one hand and frowned. You look pretty rough.
Chavasse grinned. I usually do at this time of the morning.
She was wearing a plain white blouse and a tweed skirt of deceptively simple cut that molded her rounded hips. His eyes followed her approvingly as she walked across to her desk and sat down.
He sat on the edge of the desk and helped himself to a cigarette from a packet that was lying there. He lit it and blew out a cloud of smoke with a sigh of satisfaction. Now whats all the fuss about? Whats the Chief got on his mind thats so important it cant wait until a respectable hour?
She shrugged. Why dont you ask him yourself? Hes waiting for you inside.
He frowned slightly. Another job? Already?
She nodded. I think its something pretty big.
Chavasse cursed softly and got to his feet. What does he think Im made of iron? Without waiting for a reply, he walked across to the far door, opened it, and went in.
The room was half in shadow, the only light the shaded lamp that stood upon the desk by the window. The Chief was reading a sheaf of typewritten documents and he looked up quickly, a slight frown on his face. It was replaced by a smile and he waved a hand toward a chair. So they finally managed to locate you, Paul. Sit down and tell me about Greece.
Chavasse slumped into the chair and pushed his hat back from his forehead. Didnt you get my coded report from the Embassy in Athens?
The Chief nodded. I had a quick look at it when it came in yesterday. It seems satisfactory. Any loose ends?
Chavasse shrugged. One or two. Your hunch about Skiros was right. He was a double agent. Been working for the Commies for the past four years. Theyll have to wait a long time for his next report.
Font size:
Interval:
Bookmark:
Similar books «The Bormann Testament (The Testament of Caspar Schultz)»
Look at similar books to The Bormann Testament (The Testament of Caspar Schultz). We have selected literature similar in name and meaning in the hope of providing readers with more options to find new, interesting, not yet read works.
Discussion, reviews of the book The Bormann Testament (The Testament of Caspar Schultz) and just readers' own opinions. Leave your comments, write what you think about the work, its meaning or the main characters. Specify what exactly you liked and what you didn't like, and why you think so.