Emerald Read Free Page B

behind the counter responded.
    Angrily Hans glared, and said “I’m not a tourist and I’m in a hurry”.
    A big, florid man came out of the back of the shop and walked toward Hans.
    “Did I hear you say you wanted Premier Cur, sir?”
    “You heard right, and I don’t have time to wait.”
    “If you would follow me, I will see what I can do. We don’t get that request every day.”
    Hans left the cheese shop through a side door and walked back to his car with a large wedge wrapped in brown paper. In the car, he unwrapped the pungent cheese, removed his dagger from the sheath behind his neck, and cut several slices from the wedge. He ate quickly and drove back onto the highway, savoring the remembered flavor of his favorite cheese, and his father.
    An hour later, Hans circled Zurich on the by-pass and headed toward Lake Constance. On the other side of St. Gallen, he crossed the border into Austria and marveled at the blueness of the Lake as he finished the last of the Emmental.
    Ahead lay the border crossing between Austria and Germany. Knowing there had been no pictures of him, or even a description in the news accounts of the Swiss killings, yet somewhat nervous, Hans took a deep breath as they waved him to stop at the border. The guard, a big, florid man, walked to the car, whistled at it, and said. “Great car”
    “Thank you,” Hans replied, smiling.
    Looking closely at Hans’ passport, the guard asked Hans to wait there a minute, turned and walked into the guard house.
    Hans breathed deeply. With a carefully forged French passport, a slick German car, and killer instinct, he knew he wasn’t any match for these border police, or Interpol either, for that matter, but why the delay? He could see the guard who had taken his passport talking to someone inside and pointing to him. Both border guards walked toward the car and Hans thought about the Luger resting in the car’s glove box, wondering if he could get it out in time should he need it.
    The guard handed back the passport. “Sorry to delay you, but Fredrick there has always wanted an auto like this. He even has a picture of one just like it in our guard house there.
    The other guard continued walking around the car, then with a loud thank you sorry for the delay and a sweeping gesture with his hat bid Hans to drive on.

    Just after the Starnberg exit to Munich he slowed and drove into a gas station. The young attendant ran out.
    “Fill it up?”
    “Yes, and hurry. Say, Have you ever heard of a nursing home called St. Joseph’s in Munich? The gangly youth with a blotchy face nodded and replied, “Sure, an uncle of mine lives there. It’s on Theresienstrase, across from St Joseph’s Church, just about three miles ahead. You can’t miss it.”
    Leaving the gas station, Hans He drove on, humming with the music of
Siegfried
and drumming the beat on the steering wheel.
I am Siegfried, and the emerald is my Brunnhilde
, he thought, as the street signs flashed by.
    Suddenly he saw in the rear view mirror the flashing red lights of a police car. Adrenaline pumping he pulled to the side of the road. “Shit, what have I done now?”
    The oak of a patrolman walked up to the Mercedes and said. “You missed a stop sign back there sir. Let me see your driver’s license.” Hans pulled out his international drivers’ license and passport from the glove box, being careful to shield the Luger from view. “I’m so sorry, officer. I’m on my way to see my uncle in the St Joseph Nursing Home. They called me and said that he’s dying. I guess I just didn’t see that stop sign. I’m very sorry.”
    “Well, since you’re on an errand of mercy, I won’t give you a ticket this time, but slow down or you’ll be going to heaven with your uncle. Have a nice day.”
    Hans took a deep breath and thought,
errand of mercy, my foot
and slowly continued along the city streets until he found Theresienstrase. Turning onto this residential street, he drove until he saw