more page more page more page more page more page more page more page more page more page more page the hills have eyes
By now it was eight oclock and the area was deserted except for several brightly lighted storefronts. One of them had a golden swan perched over the doorway.
The interior was pretty much what Howell had expected: upscale rathskeller with beamed ceilings, stucco, and heavy furniture. More Page More Page More Page More Page More Page More Page More Page More Page More Page More Page The Hills Have Eyes The waiters were in black tie, zaftig
silver was heavy and gleaming, and the maitre d seemed puzzled why this tourist thought he could dine at his establishment without a reservation. Im Herr Weizsels guest, Howell told him. Ah, Herr Weizsel... you are early, sir. Herr Weizsels table More Page More Page More Page More Page More Page More Page More Page More Page More Page More Page The Hills Have Eyes is prepared for nine oclock. Please have a seat in the lounge, usaa
the bar, if you prefer. I will direct him to you. Howell drifted off into the lounge where, a few minutes later, he was involved in an animated conversation with a young woman whose More Page More Page More Page More Page More Page More Page More Page More Page More Page More Page The Hills Have Eyes bosoms threatened to overflow the confines of her evening dress. Nonetheless, he still managed to spot the maitre bookmaker
talking to a young man, pointing him out. Should I know you? Howell glanced over his shoulder at a tall, thin man with sweptback hair and eyes so dark More Page More Page More Page More Page More Page More Page More Page More Page More Page More Page The Hills Have Eyes they appeared black. He guessed that Herr Weizsel was in his late thirties, spent a small fortune on his clothes and stylist, and looked peter sarsgaard
at most of the world with undisguised contempt. Peter Howell, he said. An Englishman... Do you have business with the Offenbach Bank? I have More Page More Page More Page More Page More Page More Page More Page More Page More Page More Page The Hills Have Eyes business with you. Weizsel blinked rapidly. There must be some mistake. I have never heard of you. But youve heard of Ivan Beria, havent you, old son? Howell had his hand on Weizsils peter sarsgaard
just above the elbow. Weizsels mouth worked furiously as Howell pressed down on a nerve. Theres More Page More Page More Page More Page More Page More Page More Page More Page More Page More Page The Hills Have Eyes a nice, quiet table in the corner. Why dont we have a drink? Howell steered the banker into the corner of a banquette and slipped in beside him, effectively trapping Weizsel. You cant do this! Weizsel gasped, rubbing bookmaker
elbow. We have laws--- Im not here about your laws, More Page More Page More Page More Page More Page More Page More Page More Page More Page More Page The Hills Have Eyes Howell cut him off. Were interested in one of your clients. I cant discuss confidential matters! But the name Beria rang a bell, didnt it? You service his account. I dont want the money. All we need to know is who sends it in. Weizsel zaftig
around, looking at More Page More Page More Page More Page More Page More Page More Page More Page More Page More Page The Hills Have Eyes the growing crowd at the bar. He strained to catch the maitre ds eye. Dont bother, Howell told him. I gave him money not to disturb us. You are a criminal! Weizsel declared. You are holding me against my will. Even if I give you what you More Page More Page More Page More Page More Page More Page More Page More Page More Page More Page The Hills Have Eyes want, you will never peter sarsgaard
placed a small recorder on the table. Plugging in an earpiece, he handed it to Weizsel. Listen. The banker did as he was told. After a moment, his eyes widened in disbelief. Yanking out.
