The Amber Room Page 0,70

the delight of a mean spirit and petty mind. Proof of this is no one rejoices more in revenge than a woman. Right. But he preferred Byron.Men love in haste but detest at leisure.

There'd be hell to pay when their paths crossed again. Bloody damn painful hell. Next time he'd have the advantage. He'd be ready.

The narrow streets of F眉ssen overflowed with spring tourists drawn by Ludwig's castle south of town. It was an easy matter to blend into the evening rush of revelers searching for dinner and spirits in the busy cafes. He paused for a half hour and ate in one of the least crowded, listening to delightful chamber music echoing from a summer concert across the street. After, he found a phone booth near his hotel and called Burg Herz. Franz Fellner answered.

"I heard about an explosion in the mountains today. A woman was pulled out, and they are still looking for the man."

"I won't be found," he said. "It was a trap." He told Fellner what happened from the time he left Atlanta to the moment he learned of Chapaev's murder a little while ago. "Interesting that Rachel Cutler may have survived. But it does not matter. She'll surely head back to Atlanta."

"You are sure Suzanne is involved?"

"Somehow she got ahead of me."

Fellner chuckled. "Perhaps you are getting old, Christian?"

"I was not careful enough."

"Cocksure is a better explanation," Monika suddenly said. She was obviously on an extension.

"I wondered where you were."

"Your mind was probably on how you were going to fuck her."

"How fortunate I am to have you to remind me of all my shortcomings." Monika laughed. "Half the fun of all this, Christian, is watching you work." He said, "It appears this trail is now frozen. Perhaps I should move on to other acquisitions?"

"Tell him, child," Fellner said.

"An American, Wayland McKoy, is excavating near Stod. Claims he's going to find the Berlin museum art, maybe the Amber Room. He's done this before with some success. Check it out just to be sure. At the very least you might pick up some good information, maybe a new acquisition."

"Is this excavation well known?"

"It's in the local papers, and CNN International ran several pieces on it," Monika said. "We were aware of it before you traveled to Atlanta," Fellner said, "but thought Borya worth an immediate inquiry."

"Is Loring interested in this new dig?" he asked.

"He seems interested in everything else we do," Monika said.

"You're hoping Suzanne will be dispatched?" Fellner asked.

"More than hoping."

"Good hunting, Christian."

"Thank you, sir, and when Loring calls to learn if I'm dead, don't disappoint him." "Need a little anonymity?"

"It would help."

THIRTY-FOUR

Warthberg, Germany

8:45 p.m.

Rachel strolled into the restaurant and followed Paul to a table, savoring the warm air

laced with a scent of cloves and garlic. She was starving and feeling better. The full bandage from the hospital had been replaced with gauze and tape to the side of her head. She wore a pair of chinos and a long-sleeved shirt Paul bought at a local store, her tattered clothes from this morning no longer wearable.

Paul had checked her out of the hospital two hours ago. She was fine except for the bump on her head and a few cuts and scrapes. She'd promised the doctor to take it easy the next couple of days, Paul telling him they were headed back to Atlanta anyway.

A waiter stepped over, and Paul asked what type wine she'd like.

"A good red would be nice. Something local," she said, remembering last night's dinner with Knoll.

The waiter departed.

"I called the airline," Paul said. "There's a flight out of Frankfurt tomorrow. Pannik said he could arrange to get us to the airport."

"Where is the inspector?"

"Went back to Kehlheim to see about the investigation on Chapaev. He left a phone number."

"I can't believe all my stuff's gone."

"Knoll obviously wanted nothing left to trace you."

"He appeared so sincere. Charming, in fact."

Paul seemed to sense the attraction in her voice. "You liked him?"

"He was interesting. Said he was an art collector looking for the Amber Room. " "That appeals to you?"

"Come on, Paul. Wouldn't you say that we live a mundane life? Work and home.

Think about it. Traveling the world, looking for lost art-that would excite anyone." "The man left you to die."

Her face tightened. That tone of his did it every time. "But he also saved my life in Munich."

"I should have come with you to start with."

"I don't recall inviting you." Her irritation was building. Why did it swell so easily? Paul was