The Amber Room Page 0,31

was documented history. So were the other deaths and disappearances. Coincidence? Perhaps. But he wasn't so sure. Particularly given what happened nine years ago. How could he forget. The memory haunted him every time he looked at Paul Cutler. And he wondered many times if two more names should not be added to the list of casualties.

A squeak came from the hall.

Not a sound the house usually made when empty.

He looked up, expecting to see Lucy bound into the room, but the cat was nowhere to be seen. He laid the articles aside and pushed himself up from the chair. He shuffled

out into the second-floor foyer and peered down, past an oak banister, to the foyer below. Narrow sidelights framing the front door were dark, the ground floor illuminated by a single den lamp. Upstairs was dark, too, except for the floor lamp in the study. Just ahead, his bedroom door was open, the room black and quiet. "Lucy? Lucy?"

The cat did not respond. He listened hard. No more sounds. Everything appeared quiet. He turned and started back into the study. Suddenly, someone lunged at him from behind, out of the bedroom. Before he could turn, a powerful arm locked around his neck, yanking him off the ground. The scent of latex bloomed from sheathed hands.

"Konnen wir reden mehr, `Yxo. "

The voice was that of his visitor, Christian Knoll. He easily translated. Now we talk further, Ears.

Knoll squeezed his throat hard, and his breath faltered.

"Miserable damn Russian. Spit on my hand. Who the fuck you think you are? I've

killed for less."

He said nothing, the experience of a lifetime cautioning silence.

"You will tell me what I want to know, old man, or I will kill you."

He remembered similar words said fifty-two years ago. Goring informing the naked soldiers of their fate right before water was poured. What had the German soldier, Mathias, said?

It is an honor to defy your captor.

Yes, it still was.

"You know where Chapaev is, don't you?"

He tried to shake his head.

Knoll's grip tightened. "You know wheredas Bernstein-zimmerrests, don't you?" He was about to pass out. Knoll loosened his grip. Air rushed into his lungs. "I'm not someone to take lightly. I traveled a long way for information." "I tell nothing."

"You sure? You said earlier that your time is short. Now it is shorter than you imagined. What of your daughter? Your grandchildren. Would you not like a few more years with them?"

He would, but not enough to be cowed by a German. "Go fuck, Herr Knoll." His frail body was launched out over the stairs. He tried to cry out, but before he could muster the breath he pounded headfirst onto oak runners and rolled. His limbs splayed. Arms and legs raked the spindles as gravity sent him tumbling end over end. Something cracked. Consciousness flickered in and out. Pain seared his back. He finally settled spine first on the hard tile, agony radiating through his upper body. His legs were numb. The ceiling spun. He heard Knoll bound down the stairs, then watched him reach down and jerk him up by his hair. Ironic. He owed his life to a German, and now a German would take it.

"Ten million euros is one thing. But no Russian pissant will spit on me." He tried to amass enough saliva to spit again, but his mouth was dry, his jaw frozen. Knoll's arm encircled his neck.

FIFTEEN

Suzanne Danzer watched through the window and heard the crack as Knoll snapped the old man's neck. She saw the body go limp, the head left at an unnatural angle. Knoll then shoved Borya aside and kicked the man's chest.

She'd picked up Knoll's trail this morning, after arriving in Atlanta on a flight from Prague. His actions so far had been predictable, and she initially located him as he cruised the neighborhood on a scouting mission. Any competent Acquisitor always studied the landscape first, making sure a lead was not a trap.

And if Knoll was anything, he was good.

He'd stayed downtown in his hotel most of the day, and she'd followed him earlier when he first visited Borya. But instead of returning to his hotel, Knoll waited in a car three blocks over and then backtracked to the house after dark. She'd watched as he entered through a rear door, the entrance apparently unlocked as the knob turned on the first try.

Obviously, the old man had been uncooperative. Knoll's temper was legendary. He'd tossed Borya down the stairs as casually as one tossed paper into