He wondered about Deschner. What was his role, if any, in what had happened at the bank? Had he secretly alerted the banker that Ben was in the country illegally? If so, the timing didn't track: Deschner could have done so before Ben had been admitted to the vault. Was it possible that Deschner had gotten into the vault-as he easily could have despite his claim that he could not-months or years before, taken the document, then given it to his brother's pursuers? Yet Liesl had said she trusted her cousin ... Contradictory thoughts swirled around in his brain, warring with one another until Ben couldn't think clearly anymore.
Liesl spoke at last, interrupting his troubled ruminations. "The fact that you could so easily follow me here worries me," she said. "No offense, please, but again, you're an amateur. Think of how much easier it would have been for a professional."
Whether or not she was right, it was crucial to reassure her, Ben sensed. "But keep in mind, Liesl, that Peter had told me you two lived in a cabin in the woods, near a lake. Once I figured out which hospital it was, that narrowed things down considerably. If I didn't know as much, I'd probably have lost you pretty early on."
She said nothing, just stared with unease at the fire.
"You know how to use that thing?" Ben asked, glancing toward the revolver she'd left on a table by the door.
"My brother was in the army. Every Swiss boy knows how to fire a gun. There's even a national holiday where Swiss boys go off to shoot. My father just happened to believe that a girl is every bit the equal of a boy and should learn to use a gun too. So I'm prepared for this life." She rose. "Well, I'm famished, and I'm going to make some dinner." Ben followed her to the kitchen.
She lit the gas oven, then took a whole chicken from the tiny refrigerator, buttered it and sprinkled it with dried herbs, and put it in the oven to roast. While she boiled some potatoes and sauteed some greens, they made idle conversation about her work and his, about Peter.
After a while, Ben retrieved the photograph from his jacket pocket.
He'd verified, enroute, that the wax envelope had protected it from water damage. Now he showed it to her. "Do you have any idea who these men might be?" he asked.
Her eyes suddenly registered alarm. "Oh, my God, that has to be your father! He looks so much like you two. What a handsome man he was!"
"And these others?"
She hesitated, shook her head, clearly troubled. "They look like important men, but then they all did in those heavy business suits. I'm sorry, I don't know. Peter never showed this to me. He just told me about it."
"And the document I mentioned the articles of incorporation did he ever mention hiding it somewhere here?"
She stopped stirring the greens. "Never." She said it with absolute certainty.
"You're sure? It wasn't in the vault."
"He would have told me if he'd hidden it here."
"Not necessarily. He didn't show you this photograph. He may have wanted to protect you, or maybe keep you from worrying."
"Well, then your guess is as good as mine."
"Would you mind if I looked around?"
"Be my guest."
While she finished making dinner, he searched the cabin methodically, trying to put himself into his brother's head. Where would Peter have hidden it? He ruled out any place that Liesl would have regularly cleaned or had any reason to look. Liesl and Peter's bedroom was one of two small rooms off the living room area, the other being Peter's study. But both rooms were spartanly furnished and yielded nothing.
He checked the floor all over for any loose planks, then inspected the log-and-plaster walls, but nothing.
"Do you have a flashlight?" Ben asked, returning to the kitchen area. "I want to look outside."
"Of course. There's a flashlight in every room the lights go out often. There's one on the table by the door. But we'll be ready to eat in just a few minutes."
"I'll make it quick." He took the flashlight and stepped outside, where it was cold and completely dark. He made a cursory tour of the grassy area surrounding the cabin. There was a scorched place where they obviously cooked outdoors, and a large log pile covered with a tarpaulin.
The document might have been hidden in a container beneath a rock, but