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for Chapaev was clean. He died of ninemillimeter wounds from close range. That suggests a certain callousness." He told Pannik about the Retrievers of Lost Antiquities and Grumer's theory about Knoll and the woman.

"I have never heard of such an organization, but will make inquiries. The name Loring, though, is familiar. His foundries produce the best small arms in Europe. He also is a major steel producer. One of the leading industrialists in Eastern Europe." "We're going to see Ernst Loring," Rachel said.

Pannik cocked his head in her direction. "And the purpose of the visit?" She told him what McKoy said about Rafal Dolinski and the Amber Room. "McKoy thinks he knows something about the panels, maybe about my father, Chapaev, and-" "Herr Cutler's parents?" Pannik asked.

"Maybe," Paul said.

"Forgive me, but don't you believe that this matter should be handled by the proper authorities? The risks appear to be escalating."

"Life's full of risks," Paul said.

"Some are worth taking. Some are foolish."

"We think it's worth taking," Rachel said.

"The Czech police are not the most cooperative," Pannik said. "I would assume that Loring has enough contacts in the justice ministry to make any official inquiry difficult at the least. Though the Czech Republic is no longer Communist, remnants of secrecy remain. Our department finds official information requests are many times delayed beyond what we consider reasonable."

"You want us to be your eyes and ears?" Rachel said.

"The thought did occur to me. You are private citizens on a purely personal mission. If you happen to learn enough for me to institute official action, then so much the better."

He had to say, "I thought we were taking too many risks."

Pannik's eyes were cold. "You are, Herr Cutler."

Suzanne stood on the balcony that jutted from her bedchamber. A late afternoon sun burned blood orange and gently warmed her skin. She felt safe and alive at Castle Loukov. The estate spread for miles, once the domain of Bohemian princes, the surrounding woods game preserves, all the deer and boar exclusively for the ruling class. Villages also once dotted the forests, places where quarrymen, masons, carpenters, and blacksmiths lived while working on the castle. It took two hundred years to finish the walls and less than an hour for the Allies to bomb them to rubble. But the Loring family rebuilt, this latest incarnation every bit as magnificent as the original.

She stared out over the rustling treetops, her lofty perch facing southeast, a light breeze refreshing her. The villages were all gone, replaced by isolated houses and cottages, residences where generations of Loring's staff had lived. Housing had always been provided for stewards, gardeners, maids, cooks, and chauffeurs. About fifty all total, the families perpetually residing on the estate, their children simply inheriting the jobs. The Lorings were generous and loyal to their help-the life beyond Castle Loukov was generally brutal-so it was easy to see why employees served for life.

Her father had been one of those people, a dedicated art historian with an untamable streak. He became Ernst Loring's second Acquisitor a year before she was born. Her mother died suddenly when she was three. Both Loring and her father spoke of her mother often, and always in glowing terms. She'd apparently been a lovely lady. While her father traveled the world acquiring, her mother tutored Loring's two sons. They were much older, she'd never really been close with either, and by the time she was a teenager they were gone to university. Neither returned to Castle Loukov much. Neither knew anything of the club, or of what their father did. That was a secret only she and her benefactor shared.

Her love of art had always endeared her to Loring. His offer to succeed her father came the day after he was buried. She'd been surprised. Shocked. Unsure. But Loring harbored no doubts on either her intelligence or resolve, and his unfettered confidence was what constantly inspired her to succeed. But now, standing alone in the sun, she realized that she'd chanced far too many risks over the past few days. Christian Knoll was not a man to take lightly. He was well aware of her attempts on his life. She'd twice made a fool of him. Once in the mine, the other with the kick in the groin. Never before had their quests risen to this level. She was uncomfortable with the escalation, but understood its need. Still, this matter required resolution. Loring needed to talk with Franz Fellner and reach some accommodation. A light