Chapters (117)
- Cover
- Title Page
- Dedication
- Epigraph
- The Cast of Characters
- CHAPTER ONE
- The Recruits
- CHAPTER TWO
- CHAPTER THREE
- CHAPTER FOUR
- CHAPTER FIVE
- CHAPTER SIX
- CHAPTER SEVEN
- CHAPTER EIGHT
- CHAPTER NINE
- CHAPTER TEN
- CHAPTER ELEVEN
- CHAPTER TWELVE
- CHAPTER THIRTEEN
- CHAPTER FOURTEEN
- CHAPTER FIFTEEN
- CHAPTER SIXTEEN
- The Missions
- CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
- CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
- CHAPTER NINETEEN
- CHAPTER TWENTY
- CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
- CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
- CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
- CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
- CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
- CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
- CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
- CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
- CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
- CHAPTER THIRTY
- CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
- CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
- CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
- CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
- CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
- CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
- CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN
- CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT
- CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE
- CHAPTER FORTY
- CHAPTER FORTY-ONE
- CHAPTER FORTY-TWO
- CHAPTER FORTY-THREE
- CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR
- CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE
- CHAPTER FORTY-SIX
- CHAPTER FORTY-SEVEN
- CHAPTER FORTY-EIGHT
- CHAPTER FORTY-NINE
- CHAPTER FIFTY
- CHAPTER FIFTY-ONE
- CHAPTER FIFTY-TWO
- CHAPTER FIFTY-THREE
- CHAPTER FIFTY-FOUR
- CHAPTER FIFTY-FIVE
- CHAPTER FIFTY-SIX
- CHAPTER FIFTY-SEVEN
- CHAPTER FIFTY-EIGHT
- The Game
- CHAPTER FIFTY-NINE
- CHAPTER SIXTY
- CHAPTER SIXTY-ONE
- CHAPTER SIXTY-TWO
- CHAPTER SIXTY-THREE
- CHAPTER SIXTY-FOUR
- CHAPTER SIXTY-FIVE
- CHAPTER SIXTY-SIX
- CHAPTER SIXTY-SEVEN
- CHAPTER SIXTY-EIGHT
- CHAPTER SIXTY-NINE
- CHAPTER SEVENTY
- CHAPTER SEVENTY-ONE
- CHAPTER SEVENTY-TWO
- CHAPTER SEVENTY-THREE
- CHAPTER SEVENTY-FOUR
- CHAPTER SEVENTY-FIVE
- CHAPTER SEVENTY-SIX
- CHAPTER SEVENTY-SEVEN
- CHAPTER SEVENTY-EIGHT
- CHAPTER SEVENTY-NINE
- CHAPTER EIGHTY
- CHAPTER EIGHTY-ONE
- CHAPTER EIGHTY-TWO
- CHAPTER EIGHTY-THREE
- CHAPTER EIGHTY-FOUR
- HOME
- CHAPTER EIGHTY-FIVE
- CHAPTER EIGHTY-SIX
- CHAPTER EIGHTY-SEVEN
- CHAPTER EIGHTY-EIGHT
- CHAPTER EIGHTY-NINE
- CHAPTER NINETY
- CHAPTER NINETY-ONE
- CHAPTER NINETY-TWO
- CHAPTER NINETY-THREE
- CHAPTER NINETY-FOUR
- CHAPTER NINETY-FIVE
- CHAPTER NINETY-SIX
- CHAPTER NINETY-SEVEN
- CHAPTER NINETY-EIGHT
- CHAPTER NINETY-NINE
- CHAPTER ONE HUNDRED
- CHAPTER ONE HUNDRED ONE
- Acknowledgments
- Discover More
- About the Author
- Reading Group Guide
- Discussion Questions
- A Conversation with Leila Meacham
- ALSO BY LEILA MEACHAM
So this afternoon, he had an appointment to pay a visit to the sports director of his son’s special school in the Sorbonne, one Louis Mueller. Meanwhile, he was nonplussed at his own inertia. His desk was stacked with reports that needed his attention, but he was in no mood to settle down to them. His concentration was on this latest revelation concerning his son and the young man from whom it had come as well as a consuming interest in the widow next door. He had hoped to spot Barnard Wagner down at the riverbank today to ask if he knew what Madame Gastain had thought of the tinned ham Hans had delivered. His aide had put it in the hands of the old housekeeper. Would madame reject his offer of friendship?
He turned from the balcony to go inside. The truth was that Konrad March, Major General in the German Army, holder of the Iron Cross, World War I hero, head of the Abwehr in France, was lonely, too. He desired more in his life. He yearned for human contact beyond Wilhelm and Hans, for conversation with a refined, educated woman like the mysterious widow who hid her face from the world. Barnard Wagner was a breath of fresh air beyond the stifling stench of German intelligence headquarters, but now, in that overheard conversation, he’d caught a whiff of something possibly off about him. It was a shame. He’d become fond of the young fisherman who shared his love of the greatest sport in the world.
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
Dirk Drechsler heard the church bells, and a swell of homesickness filled him with such pain that he drew his knees tight to his chest and turned his face into his pillow to stifle a moan. The bells, deep throated and mellow, reminded him of those that rang in the First Lutheran Church back in New Braunfels, Texas. His mother and father and little sister would be attending morning services today and sitting in the same pews they’d laid claim to every Sunday since Dirk had been alive. Saturday, his father would have stopped by Naegelin’s Bakery to pick up lebkuchen to take home for dessert to follow the Wiener schnitzel and potatoes and peas his mother always prepared for Sunday dinner. God, what he wouldn’t give for a plate of his mother’s sautéed veal and buttered paprika potatoes and a taste of that brown cookie with the pink icing that were his favorite foods in the whole world.