THE HOUSES IN ADAH ZILLER’S subdivision were obviously meant to look like quaint, thatch-roofed farmhouses. To Jane they resembled the small rural homes she’d seen in the English countryside rather than a French village.
“Not exactly grand,” Jock murmured. “I was expecting more presence. It’s only a few miles from the palace of Versailles.”
“I’m sure they found it more economical to mirror Marie Antoinette’s fantasy of being a French peasant than the palace of Versailles.” She had a vague memory of visiting the village adjoining Versailles that Antoinette had created so that she could play milkmaid with her ladies and gentlemen of the court. “I wonder why Adah Ziller decided to settle here. Why not settle in Paris?”
“It’s close enough,” Caleb said. “And she’d have to pass Versailles every day as she drove to work. It could be that she liked that tiny connection with royalty.” He pulled the car over to the curb. “Her house is down the block. Number 42. It’s better if we park here and walk the rest of the way. Surprise is always more effective.”
“Then let’s go.” Jane got out of the car. Excitement was tingling through her. “What do we do? Surely not just knock on the door?”
“Not if there’s any possibility that Weismann is in there with her,” Jock said. “And, even if he’s not here, I don’t think Caleb is planning on a civilized chat with the lady.”
“I’ll be as polite as I can be. Sometimes it’s not possible.” Caleb was moving ahead of them. “I’ll go around the back and see if I can get in the rear door.” He glanced over his shoulder. “Stay with her, Gavin. I’ll let you both in the front door.”
“I should go-” Jane stopped as Caleb disappeared around the side of the house. “Damn him.”
“Come on.” Jock took her elbow. “I don’t like taking orders either, but this isn’t the time to argue. I want to get off the street. It’s the middle of the night, but that doesn’t mean we won’t be seen.”
No, they needed to get into the house and out of view with as much discretion as possible. “But we’d be a lot less noticeable to any neighbors if we went in the back way, too.”
“Yes.” Jock’s lips twisted. “I’m sure Caleb realized that, too. But that wouldn’t allow him the time he wants inside alone.”
Her gaze flew to his face as they reached the front door. “You’re saying that you think he doesn’t want us to know what he’s doing in there.”
“Judging by what he was saying in the car, I got the impression that he really doesn’t want anyone to know what he’s doing at any given time. Of course, you know him better than I do.” He bent over the lock on the door. “But I don’t like the idea of waiting patiently for him to let us in. Does he think he’s the only one who can pick a lock?”
“The alarm?”
“Caleb should have any alarm disabled by this time. I’ll just open the door and we’ll-” The lock clicked, and he slowly swung the door open to reveal a dark foyer. “No alarm. But no Caleb either,” he whispered as he closed the door. “He didn’t exactly hurry to open the front door for us, did he?”
Jane didn’t answer as she followed him into the foyer. What could she say? Dammit, Caleb may have said he was going to give me the opportunity to share in his hunt, but he was obviously playing his own games.
Jock paused, looking around, then glided silently across the hall toward a wide, curved opening. A library or office? The darkness wasn’t as intense as Jane had first thought. The two beveled-glass panels on either side of the front door let the lights from the street filter into the hall and dimly lit the desk and bookcases against the far wall of the room. She followed Jock toward the doorway, trying to imitate his silent movements.
Not a sound. So quiet, so deadly. This is the Jock Gavin who had been trained as an assassin all those years ago, she thought bitterly. How quickly he had fallen back into the old skills. Her fault. He was doing all this for her.
It would do no good to feel guilty. She just had to work through this nightmare.
She moved after him toward the opening.
A bullet whistled by her cheek!
“Down!” Jock turned and pushed her to the floor.
Another bullet, this time splintering the spindle of the banister on the stairs beside her.
Someone was running down those stairs. Male. White shirt, dark pants.
Jock was rising to his knees, pulling a gun from his jacket.
But the man had reached the door and jerked it open. The light from the streetlight illuminated him for the briefest instant.
Tall. Muscular. Red hair.
Then he was gone.
“Damn! That’s Weismann.” Jock jumped to his feet and started for the door. Then he stopped. “I can’t leave you here. I don’t know if there’s anyone else in the house. Where the hell is Caleb?”
“Here.” Caleb came out of the room with the arched doorway. “Get going.”
Jock was out the door in two seconds.
Caleb pulled her to her feet. “I told you to wait outside.”
“Go to hell.” She was shaking. “And if I had waited out there, whoever was shooting at us would have run right into me.” She shook her head as she remembered Jock’s words. “It was Weismann. Jock must have recognized him.”
“Then let’s hope he catches the bastard.”
Jane glanced at the arched doorway of the room from which he’d run. “What were you doing in there?”
“Just a little advance reconnaissance-”
“Closing us out. That’s what Jock said would happen.”
“Gavin is a smart man.” He gazed at the door Jock had left open when he’d started after Weismann. “I hope he’s as fast as he is clever.”
“Why don’t you go after him?”
“I trust Gavin to catch him if it’s possible. I understand he’s exceptional.” He glanced up the stairs to the second floor. “If there were anyone up there with him, I’d think they’d be barreling down those steps. Of course, if there’s only Adah Ziller in the house, she could be hiding.”
“Or trying to climb out a window and get away,” Jane said dryly. “Maybe Weismann was trying to distract us.”
“It would be quite a jump for her.” He looked up the stairs again. “I think I’d better go upstairs and take a look around.”
“What were you doing in the office?”
“I told you, I thought I’d see if I could find anything interesting in case Adah Ziller proved difficult.” He looked up the stairs again. “Where are you, Adah Ziller?” he murmured. “I don’t hear a sound…”
Neither did Jane, and she didn’t like it. “Maybe she’s not here. Or maybe she wants us to think she’s not here.” She drew a deep breath. She was making guesses because she was afraid to face another ugly reality. “I’m tired of maybes.” She moved toward the stairs. “Let’s have a few certainties.”
Caleb was beside her, then ahead of her, moving up the steps. “By all means. I don’t suppose you’ll let me go ahead and-”
“No.” Her gaze was on the room at the top of the steps. “That door is open.” It was all the way open, as if jerked wide when someone had run through it. The other two doors on the floor appeared to be closed.
Which could be-
Caleb muttered a curse. He was at the top of the stairs, his gaze on the interior of the bedroom. “Damn. I was afraid of this. I had a feeling. I’m not going to be able to-” He was striding toward the bedroom. “I’m not going to tell you to stay out. It wouldn’t do any good. Just don’t blame me if you don’t like what you see.”
“What are you-” Then she saw the woman huddled on the floor, one arm flung out before her, blood that had poured from a wound in her chest.
Death.
Dear God, another death.
She sank back against the doorjamb.
She stood there in the doorway, watching as Caleb knelt beside the woman. It had to be Adah Ziller.
A pretty woman, Jane thought dully. Elegantly slim in her gold silk nightgown. Cafē-au-lait skin and black hair cropped fashionably close around her face. But her expression wasn’t pretty, it held an incredulous horror.
“She wasn’t expecting him to do it,” Jane said. “She looks… surprised. Was she shot?”
“No, it’s a knife wound.” He looked up at her. “A fresh kill. I’d say only a few minutes.”
“Right before we got here.”
“No, probably when we got here. He either saw us approach the house or heard us when we came in.”
“So he killed her? Because we came here looking for him?”
“He might not have even been sure who we were. He could have thought Millet had found him. Or even Venable’s men. Either way, he’d have considered it prudent to silence anyone who might have known anything about him.”
“She was trying to help him. She’d taken him into her home.”
“Yes.” He glanced at the gold nightgown clinging to the woman’s slim body. “And probably her bed.”
“Why wouldn’t he have just taken her with him? Why kill her?”
“Maybe he meant to do it anyway, and he just had to advance his plans a bit.” He stood up. “So he stabbed her and came down those steps firing.”
Firing at her. Firing at Jock.
The memory jarred her out of the shock that had left her dazed and bewildered. “Jock. He should have come back by now.” She turned. “I have to make sure he’s all right.”
“Jane to the rescue,” he murmured. “Nursemaid to a baby tiger.”
“Shut up, Caleb.” She started down the stairs. “He’s my friend.”
“I know. I suppose that’s what’s bothering me.” He went on, “I’ll go after him. I’m the one who told him to take off after Weismann.” He grimaced. “Not that he would have obeyed any order I gave. All he cared about was that I was here to take care of you so he could run him down without feeling guilty. I would have-”
“He got away. Hell, he was fast.” Jock stood in the front doorway. “He had a car parked two blocks away. He was already in it and a half a block down the street by the time I caught up with him.”
“Damn,” Caleb said.
“My sentiments,” Jock said.
“It was definitely Weismann?” Jane asked.
“Yes, what about Adah Ziller? Did you find out anything from her?”
“She’s dead,” Jane said. “Stabbed.”
“Dead end,” Jock said. “Then we’d better get out of here. As I was coming back, I saw lights popping on in several houses on the block. They must have heard those shots.”
“Not yet,” Jane said. “I won’t have this be a dead end.”
“Jane, they’ve probably called the police.”
“Then we’ll have to hurry. Ten minutes, and we’ll be out of here. Weismann killed that woman because he wanted to make sure she wouldn’t tell whatever she knew. I want to see if she can still tell us.” She turned to Caleb. “You said you were searching in the office earlier. Did you find anything?”
“I didn’t have a chance before you came into the house.”
“Then go back and search it again until you do.”
“What are we supposed to be looking for?” Caleb asked.
“I have no idea. Anything that might be different or out of place I guess. How do I know? You’re the hunter. Jock, pull the car directly in front of the house and try to find some mud to hide the license number.” She braced herself. Lord, she didn’t want to do this. “I’ll go back into her bedroom and search there. Women often keep things that mean something to them close to them. There’s nothing closer or more intimate than a bedroom.”
“Ten minutes.” Caleb was already down the stairs and heading for the library. He added dryly, “Or when we hear the first sirens.”
Jock turned and left the house.
Stop hesitating, Jane told herself. There isn’t time to give in to emotion. Turn around and go into Adah Ziller’s room and search. It wasn’t a violation. Whatever Jane found would help to punish that bastard who had betrayed Adah.
She wheeled and flew back up the stairs.
She carefully avoided looking at the woman lying on the floor.
Bedside tables, first.
She opened the drawer. Birth control. Pad, pencil. She went around the bed to the other bedside table. A small, malachite-studded Derringer pistol. Very pretty, like its owner. It was a pity she hadn’t had a chance to use it.
Bathroom.
Nothing but the usual products.
Where else?
Luggage.
She opened the closet door and checked the overhead shelf. Zero.
She pulled out the small Louis Vuitton overnight case.
Empty.
No.
Tucked in an elastic pocket on the side was a small but thick leather book.
She grabbed it and shoved the suitcase back in the closet. Jewelry box on the lingerie chest.
Very nice, very expensive costume jewelry. She seemed to be very fond of heavy silver bangles. She lifted the tray. More jewelry.
And a small chamois pouch pushed to the back of the tray. She opened the strings. Not jewelry. Coins.
“Jane! Get down here.”
Jock’s voice.
She slipped the pouch into her jacket pocket and ran toward the door.
Jock was waiting at the bottom of the stairs. “I think I heard sirens.”
Caleb was coming out of the living room. “Get going. Keep watch for them. Start the car.”
“Right.” Jock was out the door and running down the walk.
Jane started to follow him.
Wait.” Caleb grabbed a silk runner from the hall table and draped it over her head and shoulders. “Keep your head down. There are probably a dozen neighbors peering out their windows by now.”
“It’s a little late. Our fingerprints are probably all over this house.”
“It’s never too late. We had no idea we’d need gloves when we came here but you have to take precautions where you can.”
“What about you and Jock?”
“I’m not worried about anyone remembering me. It’s too late for Jock.”
No, that’s right, Caleb could change their perceptions, she thought as she ran down the walk.
But, dammit, Jock was very recognizable. People always remembered that incredibly handsome face.
“Get in.” Jock’s face was grim as he threw open the passenger seat door for her. “Those sirens aren’t more than a few blocks away.”
She could hear them herself. Loud, staccato, not like the wailing sirens at home in the U.S.
“Go south two blocks and make a turn and double back on a parallel street to the subdivision entrance,” Caleb said as he jumped in the backseat. “And keep your lights off.”
“I’m driving. Stop telling me what to do,” Jock said as he gunned the engine. “Why do you think I haven’t got my headlights on now?”
More lights were going on in the houses they were passing, Jane noticed tensely.
The sirens were louder.
Hurry.
As Jock made the turn, a dark police car with red lights flashing came into view. Before Jane lost sight of it, she saw the patrol car pull up before Adah’s house.
“We have time, Jane,” Caleb said quietly. “They’ll have to go inside and verify what’s going on and if there’s actually a crime. And, even if all those peeping Toms stream out into the street and try to talk to the policemen, it will take a few minutes for them to sort out what’s happening.”
“And we should be out of the subdivision and miles away before they get it together,” Jock added. “I was only worried about getting a little head start.”
“Very little,” Jane said. But she was relieved to see that they were passing through the stone-framed gates at the entrance of the subdivision. “And it was my fault we cut it so close, so will you both please stop comforting me and get us back to the inn?” She had a sudden thought. “Is the inn still safe?”
“It should be. But we’ll move tomorrow,” Jock said. “I’ll call Venable and see if he can do anything to smooth over what happened tonight. I don’t have much hope. It won’t be easy for him to come into an ongoing investigation.”
An ongoing investigation. He sounded like Joe with that phrase. She was suddenly so homesick for Joe and Eve that she ached with it. She didn’t want to be here in this foreign country, where death seemed to be around every corner.
“You could go to Joe and Eve,” Caleb said softly. “I can find Weismann for you.”
Her gaze flew to his face. How had he known what she was feeling?
He shook his head as he realized what she was thinking. “Just common ordinary insight. I’ve always been attuned to you. Now I’ve begun to know you. It’s not exactly comfortable for me.” He added simply, “I don’t like to see you hurting.”
She studied his expression. He was telling the truth.
And that truth was having an impact on her that was very disturbing. She tore her gaze away from his. “I’m not going to run back to Joe and Eve. This isn’t their fight.”
He shrugged. “Well, I tried. It wasn’t the way I wanted it anyway. As I said, it made me uncomfortable.” He turned to Jock. “You’re being very quiet.”
“I was hoping you’d convince her to go to the Run,” Jock said. “It’s what I want, and it doesn’t matter to me how it’s done. I’ll fade into the background and let you do it.”
Caleb was silent a moment. “I don’t think you’d ever fade into the background, Gavin.”
“I’m not going to the Run,” Jane said. “Not yet. Did you find anything in the office, Caleb?”
“A couple possibilities. You?”
“I’ve no idea. A book. A pouch.” She leaned wearily back in the seat. She was suddenly feeling exhausted, and the memories of Adah Ziller lying back in that house, memories that she had tried to push away, were here with her again. She had been full of hope and determination earlier that night, and now everything was in confusion and shambles. “They could be worth absolutely nothing. I’ll have to go through them when we get to the inn. I don’t want to think about it now.”
“Or you could come up with a bonanza,” Caleb said. “I’d bet on you. I’ve always said you have great instincts.”
Why did those words give her such a sense of pride? In just a few sentences, he’d been able to lighten the depression that was starting to blanket her. It shouldn’t have meant that much to her. It indicated a power she didn’t want to give him.
“But on the other hand, no one has ever said I’m a particularly good gambler. So you’d better disregard any opinion I might have.”
Clever. He’d sensed her rejection of his words and immediately set out to dissipate any damage. “That shouldn’t be a problem.”
He smiled. “I didn’t think so.” He looked out the window. “Then you might as well ignore me entirely until we get back to the inn. Try to rest.”
WHEN THEY REACHED THE INN, they went directly to Jane’s room.
Jock handed Jane her key after unlocking her door. “I’ll go to my room and call Venable. I should be back in five or ten minutes.”
Jane nodded. “Whatever it takes.” She wearily rubbed the back of her neck. “I think we’re going to need him. And ask him if he can trace any Syrian connection between Adah Ziller and Millet. Dammit, I was hoping that we’d get Weismann tonight.”
“Almost,” Jock said. “Next time.”
After he left, Jane went to the window and looked down into the hotel grounds. “It’s getting light.” She glanced at Caleb, who was sitting in a chair across the room watching her. “Dawn.” It seemed a long time ago that they’d talked about dawn and how darkness could be a weapon.
A weapon he hadn’t used. Weismann had been the one using weapons and dispensing ugliness and death. “Before tonight I wasn’t really thinking about Weismann in the same terms as those other monsters in the group. He was an informer, it seemed to make him better somehow. I wasn’t thinking straight. He’s a killer. He’s just as bad. Maybe worse.”
“Certainly as ruthless. Perhaps not quite as bloody.”
“Blood.” She looked at him over her shoulder. “You know all about blood, don’t you?”
“Enough.” He met her eyes. “I know how to take it. I know how to use it to kill. Do you really want to delve into my murky past? If you do, I’ll oblige you. But it’s not a confidence I’d make lightly. There would be a price to pay. Are you prepared to pay it?”
She couldn’t tear her gaze from his. Why had she started this? She was tired and on an emotional edge, and the words had just tumbled out. Her curiosity and fascination with Seth Caleb had always been just been beneath the surface, ready to break free whenever she was with him.
“Are you?” he repeated softly.
Heat. That undercurrent of breathless recklessness. The exhilaration of walking too close to the precipice and wanting to plunge off into the unknown.
Yes. Any price. Just make it worth the cost.
Don’t say those words. She would regret it.
Or would she?
She forced herself to look away. Clear your head. It was only because she was disappointed and depressed because they’d not intercepted Weismann that she’d felt this compulsion. She wasn’t the type of person to indulge in recklessness. “I’m not that interested.”
“Liar,” he murmured. “You’re as curious about knowing everything about me as I am about you.” He smiled. “I almost had you, didn’t I?”
“No.” It wasn’t the truth. She had been very close, but to admit it would be a step nearer to that precipice. She changed the subject. “What did you find in the office?”
He reached in his jacket pocket. “Two first-class airline tickets to Syria, for Adah Ziller and a Harry Norbert.”
“Norbert?”
“Weismann wouldn’t have booked under his own name. He probably has a few other phony passports.” He threw the tickets on the table. “The reservations are for tomorrow. But he won’t be using them after what happened tonight.”
“Anything else?”
“A couple keys. They were in an envelope with the tickets. They both are to a safety-deposit box at a bank in Zurich, together with account access information for Adah Ziller.”
“She had a Swiss account?”
“She had a number of important lovers. Maybe she kept track of letters and valuable memorabilia that might come in handy later.”
“Blackmail?”
“Possibly. Or maybe she put something in her deposit box for safekeeping for Weismann. But at least we have a place to start. A Swiss bank. Syria.”
“That’s a pretty lame start. There are too many holes to fill in.”
“Not so many. Maybe whatever you turned up might help to fill them.”
“That would be too lucky.” She pulled out the leather book she’d stuffed in her pocket. “This was tucked in a pocket in her suitcase. It looks like a daytimer or a journal.” She flipped open the pages. “Dammit, it’s not in English.”
“She was a Syrian.” He stood up and took the leather book and glanced at it. “Arabic.”
“Can you read it?”
“No, but I know someone who can. It’s not the first time I’ve had to have her interpret for me. She speaks twelve languages and is very discreet.”
“But is she close by?”
“She lives across the border in Switzerland. We’ll stop on our way to Zurich.”
“We’re going to Zurich? You think we can get into that safety-deposit box?”
“That’s the least of our problems.”
It seemed a huge problem to Jane. But it was clearly a necessity with which they’d have to deal.
“Anything else?” Caleb asked.
She pulled out the chamois pouch. “This was stuffed in the back of her jewelry box. Most of the jewelry in it was costume. She probably kept the good stuff in a safe.”
“Or a safety-deposit box.”
“Well, this was pushed in the back. I don’t believe its jewelry.” She opened the strings and emptied the contents on the table.
Two coins.
Small, silver, edges worn and chipped, incredibly old.
Jane frowned. “What are they?”
“I may be able to help a little but not much,” Caleb said. “My uncle was a collector, and he left me his collection when he died. But it was never my cup of tea.” He picked up one of the coins. “Old. Coined somewhere in the Middle East about A.D. 5. Pretty common. I saw quite a few in my uncle’s collection. I wouldn’t think it would be worth much.”
“Maybe that’s why she kept it with her costume jewelry.” She frowned. “But why keep it at all? Even her costume pieces looked as if they were good quality and worth something.”
He shrugged. “Maybe sentimental value? We’ll have to find out.”
“If it’s worth finding out. Perhaps I just grabbed the wrong items to-”
Jock knocked on the door and entered. “Venable said that it was probably too late for him to do anything, but he’d explore the situation. He wasn’t pleased that we hadn’t told him we had a lead on Weismann.” He glanced at the coins on the table. “What are those?”
“Coins she found in Adah Ziller’s room,” Caleb said. “Very old. Also, we came up with airline tickets to Syria, a safety-deposit box in Zurich, and a leather book that we can’t read because it’s in Arabic. Now you’re completely caught up.”
“Thank you,” Jock said dryly. “For what it’s worth.” He turned to Jane. “We can’t be sure the police won’t trace us back here. We were a little too visible. I vote for not waiting until later to move. I think we should pack up and get out of here.”
“So do I.” Jane turned and strode toward the suitcases she’d set against the far wall. “How long will it take us to get to Zurich?”
“Six hours or so,” Caleb said. “Perhaps a little longer since we have to stop and have Lina translate that book.”
“Lina? She’s the one who does your translating?”
“Lina Alsouk. Yes, she’s very good.”
“But is she fast? Can we get to Zurich before the close of the banking day?”
“Maybe. We’ll work something out.”
“That sounds a little too casual to me,” Jane said. “If you’ll recall, I’m on something of a deadline.” She shook her head as she realized what she had said. “Deadline. Dead end. There are so many phrases that have to do with death. They couldn’t be more descriptive, could they?”
“No,” Jock said. “But not ones I like to use in your case.” He headed for the door. “I’ll pack and meet you downstairs in the lobby. Which car are we using?”
“The BMW,” Caleb said. “It’s not a rental and can’t be traced.”
“What?”
Caleb shrugged. “I’m a hunter. It’s convenient for me to keep a car at several cities in Europe. Paris is one of them. The license-plate numbers are phony, and I have an extra set in the boot.”
“Then I didn’t need to throw mud on those plates at Adah Ziller’s place,” Jock said dryly.
“No, but I didn’t have time to tell you at the time,” Caleb said. “We were in a bit of a hurry.”
“We’re still in a hurry,” Jane said. “I don’t want to have to hang around and wait until the bank opens tomorrow morning.”
“Then you won’t have to do it. I told you that we’ll work it out,” Caleb said. “I’ll go down and gas up the car for the trip.”