Hands of the Traitor

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Authors: Christopher Wright

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HANDS OF THE
TRAITOR

A Matt Rider thriller
#1

New Edition

 

Private investigator Matt Rider wants to find out if his
grandfather killed Sophie Bernay, and uncovers an appalling
international secret. Domestic Chemicals, a New York company owned
by the Heinman dynasty, made poison gas for Nazi Germany. And now
the past is back to haunt them -- like the bloated corpse Frank B.
Heinman saw rising to the surface in the East River as a boy. Matt
Rider in England and Frank Heinman in New York are on a collision
course. The ex-president of Domestic Chemicals will make sure no
one stays alive if he sees them as a danger to the company. Matt
Rider just wants the truth.
Hands of the
Traito
r is the first Matt Rider detective
thriller.

 

Hands of the
Traitor

by

Christopher
Wright

 

First published in the USA by
Hard Shell Publishing
©Christopher Wright 2004

This North View Publishing
edition
©Christopher Wright 2016

 

Ha
nds of the Traitor
is a work of
fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product
of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously.

 

Statements
made by characters in this book
may not always reflect historical fact, just what they choose to
believe to be true. Any racist statements are those of the
fictional characters making them, and do not reflect the views of
the author.

 

All rights reserved. Without limiting
the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this
publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or
transmitted, in any form or by any means (electronic, mechanical,
photocopying, recording or otherwise), without the prior written
permission of the copyright owner of this book.

 

North View
Publishing

 

 

email:
[email protected]

 

More thrillers by Christopher Wright available
now
or
coming soon from North View
Publishing

 

Contents

 

Note

Prologue

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Chapter 29

Chapter 30

Chapter 31

More
Thrillers

 

Note

This book was first published
in 2004
.
This North View Publishing edition has received some minor edits,
but the technology has not been updated, so the story still takes
place in 2004. This was an analog rather than a digital world! The
four Matt Rider books take place six months to a year apart,
allowing Matt and
Zoé
to develop their relationship.

Prologue

New York

FRANK BECKER HEINMAN signed the last
letter of the day and left the office. Today he ceased to be
president of DCI. Some of the staff thought they had seen the last
of him, maybe even hoped it, but he had no intention of giving his
useless son full control of the company.

He could perhaps allow himself a small
sigh of relief. The company's secret past had remained hidden for
sixty years. Just thinking about the possibility of exposure would
have been enough to destroy a lesser man. His own father had been
tough, but perhaps life required a tough tutor. His own father had
also been a fool, and gotten himself killed in northern France on
company business in 1944. He hailed a Yellow Cab.

Thirty-five minutes later he opened
the front door to his Manhattan brownstone and sank into his
much-loved armchair in the empty house. Thank God it was all behind
him now.

*

England

ALEC RIDER
raised himself in his bed and
stared at the strange shadows. Shut in this hateful institution,
appalling memories filled his mind. Living with the past and all
its terrors, trapped in a prison smelling of urine and polish. He
could recall those wartime days in northern France, but not
remember the name of the man who shared his room today.

He watched the shadows from the tree
dancing on the wall, swaying like reeds beside the Nazi rocket
base. Matt was going to untie the past. He could remember Matt.
Matt was his grandson, working for the police. Or was he a private
detective? He sighed, a heavy sigh that echoed across the room. It
was easy to get muddled. His memory failed him too often now.
Perhaps the padre was right and the events in France were too
dreadful to recall.

The war had been foul, when men --
ordinary family men -- had learnt to kill, and then done it until
they stopped caring. He cared. Cared about killing Sophie. Even
now, a lifetime later, the recollection made him sweat at night.
The wartime padre, Fergus Hawkins, had told him that killing was
the price of freedom. But what freedom had the killing of Sophie
bought?

He slid his feet over the side of the
bed and lowered them onto the thin carpet. The texture felt rough,
like sandy gravel, like the ground at the launch site near Calais.
The man opposite was snoring quietly. The street lamp let enough
light through the window to show the fruit. He took an apple. It
was the size of a grenade. The blade of the knife by the side of
the bowl glinted invitingly. The knife brought back more memories
as he picked it up with his empty hand.

He stared into the dim shadows. The man in
the other bed. Was he Heinman, the American with a signet ring on
each hand -- strange rings engraved with letters and a green eye --
a man with a case of gold for the Nazis? There was only one thing
to do. The Special Operations Executive had trained him, and the
SOE were experts. The man's mouth was wide, like a man would scream
in agony if his hands were being cut off. He forced the grenade
into the gaping jaws.

"Sophie!" he yelled.

He could see blood on the blonde
girl's face. See her eyes open wide in fear.

Then the grenade exploded.

Chapter
1

England
-- Friday

HE DIDN'T
mean to touch her hand. It was
just that they both reached for the same book at the same time.
He'd not even realized she was standing so close. Matt Rider
laughed, mostly to cover his embarrassment.

Medical textbooks were new territory
for him. He hoped she wouldn't think he wanted this volume for any
personal reason. It was then that he became aware of her
perfume.

"I am sorry," she said, pulling her
hand back quickly. The accent sounded French.

"
Vous
êtes
française?
" It was worth a try.

S
he smiled as she nodded, but said
nothing.

"I'm Matt." He spoke English now. It
wouldn't do to show off. "Matt Rider."

"Zoé Champanelle," she
said.

It wasn't only her perfume. Her whole
body...

"You are a doctor?" she
asked.

It was a reasonable question. The
medical book he'd reached for was large. And very expensive. "I'm a
private investigator."

She caught his eye for a
moment, a glance that not only shot him through the heart but hit
him lower down too. Then she looked away, and back again briefly,
still smiling. "And I am a nurse.
Bonjour
, Matt."

She was picking him up. He was sure of
it. Their hands hadn't touched accidentally. Her move had been
deliberate, the timing perfect.

He wanted to talk but felt
tongue-tied. His friends would laugh if they could witness this
fiasco. Fortunately there was no one here who knew him.

"I'm doing this for my grandfather."
He didn't have to explain.

"Your grandfather is a doctor?"

"He's not well." This was getting too
complex. He'd say too much and regret it. "If you're not busy, we
could..."

She looked interested. At least, he
thought she did.

*

THE SINGLE security light flashed
unsteadily as a sheet of rain swept across the road. Matt Rider
flicked the wipers to high speed and stared at the side door of the
electrical warehouse. He could swear he'd seen it swing shut a
moment ago.

He should be home with Louise, not
driving around on his own like this, late at night. But Louise had
left him.

For a moment all he could
see was the French woman in the bookshop.

He edged his car through the entrance
to the service yard for a clearer view. Something was wrong, but he
couldn't decide what. This was an attractive place for villains
after dark, and from Monday it would be his responsibility to make
sure it remained secure. It was just as well to check it out
now.

In the bookshop he'd been
feeling like the white knight in distress, with the beautiful
maiden coming to set him free. Only the maiden didn't know about
his troubles. And even if she did know, she probably had a life of
her own and wasn't into rescue missions. But it was fun to
fantasize. It helped heal the hurt.

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