The Hitler Diaries by Jim Williams

The Hitler Diaries by Jim Williams

Author:Jim Williams [Williams, Jim]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: second world war, Hitler diaries hoax, forgery scandal, ww2, Berlin bunker, spy story, Suspense, Murder, Historical, Political, War
Published: 2013-05-14T16:00:00+00:00


TWENTY-TWO

A policewoman with her hair in a bun, flat shoes and a pretty face led Grant into Lieutenant McCluskey’s room. It was a box stolen off a larger office, with pale-green partition walls, the usual furniture and a large nude calendar with the compliments of a garage.

Bob McCluskey was behind his desk. In one of those mismatch relationships that work, he married a writer Grant knew, and they met at a party. He was a stooping, hoarse-voiced, melancholy character.

‘Come on in, Jonathan, pull up a chair and just give me a second to put this stuff away.’ He shovelled some papers into a drawer. ‘It’s good to see you.’

‘It’s good to see you too.’

McCluskey nodded as if he habitually didn’t believe anything he was told. He picked up the telephone and asked the switchboard to hold any calls for the next half-hour. Having done that he put his hands together and pulled the fingers into a cat’s cradle. ‘Let me see,’ he said. ‘It must be six months since I last saw you. At Marcia’s wasn’t it?’

Grant said he supposed it was. He looked away out of the small, square window into a courtyard crammed with fire escapes and ventilators that gave off curls of steam.

‘We should meet more often,’ McCluskey was saying as Grant turned round. ‘Have a drink – maybe come and have some dinner with Barbara and the kids.’

‘That would be...’

‘Nice? Maybe it would.’

Grant took a chair. ‘My enquiry caused you problems,’ he said. It was a statement, not a question. McCluskey didn’t bother to deny it.

‘When you asked me to do a favour, well, naturally I did it. After all, we’ve been friends for a while and it isn’t as though you call me every day so you can get facts to beef up newspaper copy.’

‘You sound as though you have a complaint.’

‘Maybe, maybe not. It depends on whether you were frank with me. It seems to me I’m entitled to that.’

‘Then ask me something.’

McCluskey gave a street-wise look. ‘Okay, so what’s your interest in a Harlem drugs bust?’

‘A book – I’m looking for a new theme away from the War.’

‘Uh huh. Why don’t I believe that?’

‘You have a suspicious mind?’

‘I thought you were the one with the suspicious mind.’

‘In my case it’s paranoia.’

McCluskey turned his eyes away and glanced at what looked to Grant like a report. ‘How are Kathy and Joey?’

‘You heard about that?’ Grant said, getting the drift.

‘From the local police – they kiss and tell.’ McCluskey put the report aside. ‘They tell me that was a black guy too.’

‘So Harvey said. I didn’t see.’

‘Any connection with your drugs story? I don’t like to press you, Jonathan, but when you start enquiring about Harlem and then I learn some black guy has been taking pot-shots at you – well, the ting-a-ling of coincidence starts ringing in my ears.’

‘Mine too, old boy, but I don’t know what the connection is. Maybe I’ve kicked an ant’s nest and don’t know it?’

‘Sure, sure,’ McCluskey said. ‘C’mon with me.



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