ALMOST A DEAD MAN - CHAPTER 21

Everyday thousands of business transactions occurred with millions and millions of Deutschmarks being transferred to various banks around Europe. Most were small, but together, they coalesced into huge sums, and he had been searching for the right amount that could be sent on a Friday and remain undetected till Monday morning, when he would be long gone from Hamburg.

Entering the post office, Hans descended to a row of telephone cabins, and dialed Cali's number from memory. Hans Roth tightened his tie, while the phone rang. A man answered the phone. Hans had altered his voice to a smoky rasp, suitable for a woman in trouble.

"It is Greta. Willi's friend."

"This better be business, Greta," demanded Cali.

"It is, it is."

"I hope you are not calling from your office."

"No, no, I am outside."

So what is the problem?"

"I am getting very nervous. The bank managers have been talking about an audit and, if they do, I will go to prison. What about doing the wire transfer now? Several large sums have passed by my desk." Hans had to admit that the planning of this crime was a thousand times more scintillating than his small misdirections of cash and he had been dying to tell Willi about his 'project'. Only the memory of Cali's tug on his ear prevented him from spilling everything to his lover.

"How big?"

"One for three million Deutschmarks and another for five."

"We want the biggest, Greta. Think of Thailand under a starry sky. As a woman. I have seen the results and you are the ideal material for the operation. You will be a woman. This is why you are doing this, right?"

"Of course, it is." Hans was momentarily transported to the paradise Cali had painted and breathed easy, knowing his reward was not far off.

"And don't worry about an audit. Your superiors will not want to spoil anyone's summer holiday and remember you are with a team of professionals."

"Is there anything else I should be doing," Hans exclaimed, daydreaming about the aftermath of his operation.

"For a start stop being a woman, until you are one," Cali barked, then hung up the mobile phone in his Turbo 500, as he drove down the Autoroute from Kiel. He hated leaving town now, but his presence had been required to insure a small-time pimp paid his debt. He had only broken the young Zuhalter’s thumb to demonstrate his grip on the business was as firm as ever, but the pressure was getting to him, for the knuckle of the thumb coming out of the socket had sounded a lobster shell being cracked and nearly turned his stomach.

He flicked the high beams at a camper, nearly ramming into the rear end before the slower vehicles gave way. The driver was shocked to see a black man driving such a car. Cali gave him the finger, as Sean had taught him, then stamped his foot on the accelerator, wanting to go somewhere he would be another black man among many.

There had to be thousands of places like that far away from here. He recited their names; Brixton, Harlem, Watts, Africa. Together they became a siren song. One he could no longer resist. It was time to go back home and home no longer meant Hamburg.