said.
Russell stopped.
Im getting married next month, the man said, carefully positioning himself between Russell and any watchers in the building they had just left.
Russell took out his wallet, removed the clip of Swiss francs, and handed it over. A wedding present?
The man smiled, gave him an ironic click of the heels, and strode away.
Russell walked on toward the train. The snow was heavier now, tumbling down through the pools of light, flakes clinging to the glistening wire. He could feel the sweat on his body slowly turning to ice.
The train, it seemed, was waiting only for him the whistle shrilled as he stepped aboard. He made his way forward through the swaying cars, slumped into the reclining seat, and listened to the rhythmic clatter of the wheels, rolling him into the Reich.
