C

Author DEE RAYMOND'S New Story

THE LIFE SHE

DESERVED

An Army Commander's Son Poses As A Girl Singer In An Effort To Feret Out A Spy Hidden Deep With Allied Headquarters!

olonel Richard

Alexander

Simons sat at one of the

very best tables of the ra- ther small night club, the best spot where the blonde singer had to see him. She gave no notice of it, however, and began at once to sing a love song in excellent French that most of soldier audience would not have understood at all. But they cheered her, anyway, for they weren't used to a girl so glamor- ous and attractive. Her blonde hair lay in thick bangs across her forehead while a dark ribbon held most of her shining hair back behind her ears so that her pedant earrings could be seen. Her hair touched her bare back covering the thin, silver straps that held up her black evening dress. A thin veil covered her upper chest up to the neck, but her figure showed that she was very feminine ample bos- om, narrow waist and where the skirts of the dress were raised from the floor, shapely ankles and calves balanced on the dark high heels.

man,

She switched easily to Ger- and then to English,

singing in a husky voice, her ren- dition of 'Lilil Marlene,' a take- off of another Marlene. She moved gracefully about the small stage, singing to different men in the audience, and it was only when she cane close to Simons that he saw how much makeup she wore so thick and dark about her false eyelashes.

---

Her act over and the three- piece 'orchestra' playing soft waltz music, so that the soldiers could grapple with their dates on the small dance floor, she joined Simons at his table. He'd half expected that she wouldn't. She accepted his offer of a bour- bon and then of an American cigarette. The waiter withdrew as Simons leaned forward to offer her a light. She took a deep pull, her painted face taking on an ecstatic expression as the smoke coursed out over her dark-red iips. She tapped away ash from the cigarette with a finger topped with a long, pointed, blood-red fingernail. "Ah," she said, smil- ing at Simons. "That's good." Her English speaking voice was low and husky.

Simons took a quick gulp of whisky. "You're still using the same name,” he said, looking

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hard at her but seeing nothing but femininity.

"I like the name Denise," she said, giving him an uncertain smile.

"Why didn't you check in with us?" It was one of Simon's main reasons for contacting her now in this second-rate 'club' on Cologne, while the Russians battered away at Berlin. "What the heck are you doing in a place like this?"

The woman sipped on the bourbon, leaving a red smudge on the glass's rim. "Where else should I be?"she asked, an edge of bitterness creeping into her voice. "You played a rotten trick on me. Where did you think it would end?”

Simons felt very uncomfor- table. She was so self-assured. this blonde woman, so lovely as she looked at him levelly, not a gesture out of place to reveal that 'she' was really the son of General Gerlitz, now an army Commander. "I had to," said Simons, not wishing to look at 'her' any closer. "I'd have lost that whole network if I hadn't.”

"So you made me become a woman," she hardly raised her voice, but Simons could feel her anger.

He stole a look at her again. The veil covered her upper chest and came down her arms to her wrists. He could see the surpris- ingly feminine cleavage of her bust this close to her. "It didn't turn out so badly for you, did it?" the young Colonel asked.

She raised a thin pencilled eyebrow and smiled again, show- ing her straight, white teeth. "The countess and I got along very well," she murmurred, her black-painted eyes on Simon's perspiring face.

Jesus Christ, thought Si- so that was how it was. He tried desperately to keep his face straight, to show none of the scorn or disgust he felt at the