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Windmills of the Gods Page 28
Author: Sidney Sheldon

And Ionescu was gone.

TO GET A Head START ON no crowded day that faced her, Mary had Florian pick her up at six thirty a.m. During the ride to the embassy she read the reports and communiques that had been delivered to the residence during the night.

As Mary walked past Mike Slade’s office she stopped in surprise. He was at his desk working. “You’re in early,” she said.

He looked up. Morning. I’d like to have a word with you. Not here. Your office.”

He followed Mary through the connecting door to her office, and she watched as he walked over to an instrument in the corner of the room. “This is a shredder,” Mike informed her.

“I know that.”

“Really? Last night you left some papers on top of your desk.

By now they’ve been photographed and sent to Moscow.”

“Oh, no! I must have forgotten. Which ones?” “A list of personal things you wanted to order. But That’s beside the point. The cleaning women work for the Securitate. Lesson number one: at night everything must be locked up or shredded.”

“What’s lesson number two?” Mary asked coldly.

Mike grinned. “The ambassador always starts the day by having coffee with her deputy chief How do you take yours?”

“I-Black.”

“Good. You have to watch your figure around here. The food is fattening.” He started toward the door that led to his office. “I make my own special brew. You’ll like it.”

Mary sat there, infuriated by his arrogance. I have to be careful how I handle him, she decided. I want him out of here as quickly as possible.

He returned with two mugs of steaming coffee.

“How do I arrange for Beth and Tim to start school?” she asked.

“I’ve already arranged it. Florian will deliver them mornings and pick them up afternoons.”

She was taken aback. “I-Thank you.”

“The school is small but excellent. Each class has eight or nine students. They come from all over-Canadians, Israelis, Nigerians, you name it.” Mike took a sip of his coffee. “I understand that you had a nice chat with our fearless leader last night.”

“President Ionescu? Yes. He seemed very pleasant.”

“Oh, he is. Until he gets annoyed with somebody. Don’t let Ionescu’s charm fool you. He’s a dyed-in-the-wool s.o.b. His people despise him, but there’s nothing they can do ibout it. The secret police are everywhere. The general rule of thumb here is that one out of every three people works for the Securitate or the KGB. A Remanian can be arrested merely for signing a petition.”

Mary felt a shiver go through her. “They do have trials here?”

“Oh, occasionally they’ll have show trials, but most of the people arrested manage to have fatal accidents while they’re in police custody. In general, conditions here are horrifying, but the people are afraid to strike back, because they know they’ll be shot. The standard of living is one of the lowest in Europe. There’s a shortage of everything. If people see a line in front of a store, they’ll join in and buy whatever’s for sale while they have the chance.”

“It seems to me,” Mary said slowly, “that all these things add up to a wonderful opportunity for us to help them.”

Mike Slade looked at her. “Sure,” he said dryly. “Wonderful.”

That afternoon as Mary was going through some newly arrived cables from Washington she thought about Mike Slade. He was arrogant and rude, yet he’d arranged for the children’s school. He may be more complex than I thought, she decided. But I still don’t trust him.

THE inside of the Ivan Stelian Prison was even more forbidding than its exterior. The corridors were narrow, painted a dull gray. There was a jungle of crowded black-barred cells, patrolled by uniformed guards armed with machine guns. The stench was overpowering.

A guard led Mary to a small visitors’ room, saying, “She’s in there. You have ten minutes.”

Mary entered, and the door closed behind her.

Hannah Murphy was seated at a small battle-scarred table. She was handcuffed and wearing prison garb. Her face was pale and gauss% and her eyes were red and swollen. Her hair was uncombed. “Hi,” Mary said. “I’m the American ambassador.”

Hannah Murphy looked at her and began to sob uncontrollably.

Mary put her arms around the girl and said soothingly, “Every thing is going to be all right. Now, just tell me what happened.”

Hannah Murphy took a deep breath. “I met this man-he was a Remanian-and I was lonely. He was nice to me, and we-We spent the night together. A girlfriend had given me some marijuana. I shared it with him. When I woke up in the morning, he was gone, but the police were there. And they brought me to this hellhole.” She shook her head helplessly. “Five years.”

Mary thought of what Lucas Janklow had said as she was leaving for the prison: “There’s nothing you can do for her. If ghe were a Remanian, they’d probably give her life.” Now Mary looked at Hannah Murphy and said, “I’ll do everything in my power to help you.”

Mary had examined the official police report. It was signed by Captain Aurel Istrase, head of the Securitate. It was brief and unhelpful, but there was no doubt of the girl’s guilt. I’ll have to find another way, Mary thought. Aurel Istrase. The name had a familiar ring. She thought back to the confidential dossier James Stickley had shown her in Washington. She remembered something in there about Captain Istrase….

Mary arranged to meet with the captain the following morning.

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Sidney Sheldon's Novels
» Memories of Midnight
» Master of the Game
» Bloodline
» Nothing Lasts Forever
» A Stranger In The Mirror
» After the Darkness
» Are You Afraid of the Dark?
» Morning, Noon & Night
» Rage of Angels
» Mistress of the Game
» Sands of Time
» Tell Me Your Dreams
» The Best Laid Plans
» The Doomsday Conspiracy
» The Naked Face
» The Other Side of Me
» The Other Side of Midnight
» The Sky Is Falling
» The Stars Shine Down
» If Tomorrow Comes (Tracy Whitney #1)