"Will I be going to-you know-Sweden, to pick up my Nobel Prize they just gave me?" "No, Andrew. That was seven years ago." "Oh." Andrew turned and shuffled back to his office.
Tanner thought about his own urgent trip to Sweden, three years earlier?
* * *
HE HAD BEEN involved in a complicated logistics mishap when his secretary's voice came over the intercom. "Zurich is on the line for you, Mr. Kingsley." "I'm too busy for-never mind. I'll talk to them." He picked up the phone. "Yes?" As Tanner listened, his face became grim. He said impatiently, "I see?Are you sure? She?No, never mind. I'll handle this myself." He pressed down the intercom button. "Miss Ordonez, tell the pilot to have the Challenger ready.
We're flying to Zurich. There will be two passengers."
* * *
MADELEINE SMITH WAS seated in a booth at La Rotonde, one of the finest restaurants in Zurich.
She was in her early thirties, with a lovely oval face, bobbed hair, and a beautiful complexion. She was visibly pregnant.
Tanner walked over to the table, and Madeleine Smith stood up.
Tanner Kingsley held out his hand. "Please, sit down." He sat down opposite her.
"I am happy to meet you." She had a lilting Swiss accent. "At first, when I got the call, I thought it was a joke." "Why?" "Well, you are such an important man and when they said you were coming to Zurich just to see me, I could not imagine-" Tanner smiled. "I'll tell you why I'm here. Because I've heard that you are a brilliant scientist, Madeleine. May I call you Madeleine?" "Oh, please, Mr. Kingsley." "At KIG, we treasure talent. You're the kind of person who should be working for us, Madeleine.
How long have you been with Tokyo First Industrial?" "Seven years." "Well, seven is your lucky number, because I'm offering you a job at KIG at twice what you're making now, and you'll be in charge of your own department and-" "Oh, Mr. Kingsley!" She was beaming.
"Are you interested, Madeleine?" "Oh, yes! I am very interested. Of course I could not start right now." Tanner's expression changed. "What do you mean?" "Well, I am having a baby and getting married? Tanner smiled. "That's no problem. We'll handle everything." Madeleine Smith said, "But there is another reason I cannot leave right now. I am working on a project at our laboratory and we are just getting-we are almost at the end of it." "Madeleine, I don't know what your project is and I don't care. But the fact is that the offer I just made must be accepted immediately. In fact, I was hoping to fly you and your fiance"-he smiled?"or should I say your future husband-back to America with me." "I could come as soon as the project is finished. Six months, maybe a year." Tanner was silent for a moment. "Are you sure there is no way you can come now?" "No. I am in charge of this project. It would be unfair for me to walk out." She brightened.
"Next year-?"
Tanner smiled. "Absolutely." "I am so sorry that you had to make this journey for nothing." Tanner said warmly, "It wasn't for nothing, Madeleine. I got to meet you." She blushed. "You are very kind." "Oh, by the way, I brought you a gift. My associate will bring it to your apartment tonight at six o'clock. His name is Harry Flint."
* * *
THE FOLLOWING MORNING, the body of Madeleine Smith was found on her kitchen floor. The stove had been left on and the apartment was filled with gas.
* * *
TANNER'S THOUGHTS CAME back to the present. Flint never failed him. In a little while, Diane Stevens and Kelly Harris would be disposed of, and with them out of the way, the project could ontinue.
Chapter Twenty-Six
HARRY FLINT WALKED up to the reception desk of the Wilton Hotel. "Hello." "Hello." The clerk noticed the smile on his face. "Can I help you?" "Yes. My wife and her friend, an African-American, checked in here a little while ago. I want to go up and surprise them. What's their room number?" The clerk said, "I'm sorry. This is a hotel for women, sir. Men are not allowed upstairs. If you'd like to phone-" Flint glanced around the lobby. Unfortunately, it was crowded. "Never mind," he said. "I'm sure they'll be down soon." Flint walked outside and dialed his cell phone. "They're upstairs in their room, Mr. Kingsley. I can't go up." Tanner stood still a moment, concentrating. "Mr. Flint, logic tells me that they will decide to separate.
I'm sending Carballo over to help you.
* * *
UPSTAIRS IN THEIR suite, Kelly turned the radio on to a pop station, and the room was suddenly filled with loud rap music.
"How can you listen to that?" Diane asked irritably.
"You don't like rap music?"
"That's not music. That's noise." "You don't like Eminem? And what about LL Cool J and R. Kelly and Ludacris?" "Is that all you listen to?" "No," Kelly said tartly. "I enjoy Berlioz's Symphonie Fantastique, Chopin's etudes, and Handel's Almira. I'm particularly fond of-" Kelly watched Diane walk over to the radio and turn it off. "What are we going to do when we run out of hotels, Mrs. Stevens? Do you know anyone who can help us?" Diane shook her head. "Most of Richard's friends worked at KIG, and our other friends-I can't get any of them involved in this." She looked at Kelly. "What about you?" Kelly shrugged. "Mark and I lived in Paris for the past three years. I don't know anyone here except the people at the model agency, and I have a feeling they wouldn't be a lot of help." "Did Mark say why he was going to Washington?" "No." "Neither did Richard. I have a feeling that somehow that's the key to why they were murdered." "Great. We have the key. Where's the door?" "We'll find it." Diane was thoughtful for a moment, then her face lit up. "Wait a minute! I know someone who might be able to help us." She went over to the phone.