Hôtel Adlon by Philip Kerr

By Philip Kerr

Dans ce sixième épisode, retour aux sources. 

Berlin, 1934 : Le monde est aveugle. Mais Bernie Gunther, lui, ne l’est pas. Après avoir quitté l. a. police de plus en plus nazifiée, il est chargé de los angeles sécurité des résidents du célèbre hôtel Adlon. Le dirigeant d’une entreprise de building est retrouvé assassiné dans sa chambre. Quelque temps plus tard, on repêche le cadavre d’un jeune boxeur juif. Y aurait-il un lien entre ces deux meurtres ?

Dans le même temps, Bernie fait l. a. connaissance de deux résidents de l’hôtel : une talentueuse et ravissante journaliste qui milite pour que les États-Unis boycottent les Jeux olympiques de 1936 et un gangster américain proche de l. a. mafia de Chicago, bien décidé à s’enrichir grâce aux J.O. Sur fond de montée de l. a. discrimination à l’égard des juifs, Bernie découvre un réseau de sociétés écrans, destinées à détourner les sommes pharaoniques que les nazis sont prêts à dépenser pour exhiber le nouveau visage de l’Allemagne grâce à los angeles development du stade prévu pour accueillir les J.O. . l. a. lumière sur cette affaire ne se fera que vingt ans plus tard, dans le Cuba prérévolutionnaire. 

Traduit de l’anglais par Philippe Bonnet

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Her hand closed around an enormous, blood-gorged pole of muscle. It pulsated in her hand like an animal and almost weeping with grateful ecstasy she pointed it into her own wet, turgid flesh. The thrust of its entering, the unbelievable pleasure made her gasp, brought her legs up almost around his neck, and then like a quiver, her body received the savage arrows of his lightning-like thrusts; innumerable, torturing; arching her pelvis higher and higher until for the first time in her life. she reached a shattering climax, felt his hardness break and then the crawly flood of semen over her thighs.

How would his own three sons have reacted to such a tongue-lashing? Santino would have sulked and behaved badly for weeks afterward. Fredo would have been cowed. Michael would have given him a cold smile and gone out of the house, not to be seen for months. But Johnny, ah, what a fine chap he was, smiling now, gathering strength, knowing already the true purpose of his Godfather. Don Corleone went on. “You took the woman of your boss, a man more powerful than yourself, then you complain he won’t help you.

She felt something bumming pass between her thighs. She let her right hand drop from his neck and reached down to guide him. Her hand closed around an enormous, blood-gorged pole of muscle. It pulsated in her hand like an animal and almost weeping with grateful ecstasy she pointed it into her own wet, turgid flesh. The thrust of its entering, the unbelievable pleasure made her gasp, brought her legs up almost around his neck, and then like a quiver, her body received the savage arrows of his lightning-like thrusts; innumerable, torturing; arching her pelvis higher and higher until for the first time in her life.

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