Page 64 of The Collector
“Home.”
“Husband?”
“Cat.”
“Can the cat look after itself for an hour or two?”
“What did you have in mind?”
The summit’s second-night cocktail party. The venue was the futuristic new headquarters of Germany’s largest media conglomerate. They stayed for an hour.
“Hungry?” he asked as they were leaving.
“Surely you have plans.”
“I canceled them. What are you in the mood for?”
“Your choice.”
He chose Grill Royal. Perfect salads, perfect steaks, a perfect American movie starlet at the next table. Over espresso, the playful banter, the brushing of hands, the delicate negotiations.
“I couldn’t,” she said.
“Why not?”
“Half the summit attendees are staying there. They’ll think I’m sleeping with you in order to drum up a little business for my struggling startup.”
“Are you?”
“Actually, it was the thirty-five thousand you dropped on the first-edition Fitzgerald.” She drew the volume from her handbag and placed it on the table between them. “Which one are you?” she asked.
“The beautiful or the damned? Somewhere in between, I imagine.”He gazed thoughtfully into his wineglass. The businessman with the soul of a poet. “Aren’t we all?”
The Branitzer Platz was not a proper square but a traffic circle with a small green park at its center. Ingrid directed the limousine driver to the correct address, and Magnus followed her through the gate. The key was in her hand when they reached the door. In the darkened entrance hall, she allowed him to kiss her, once. Then she led him into the half-light of the drawing room, where a girl gowned in white sat reading a copy ofRomeo and Julietby William Shakespeare, Hodder & Stoughton, 1912. Near fine condition, slight damage to the spine, some shelf wear.
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Branitzer Platz
He stood motionless for a long moment, slack-jawed and silent, gazing in horror at the apparition before him. Finally, he wheeled around and saw Mikhail blocking the path to the door. “Who the bloody hell are you?” he demanded to know in his most convincing boardroom voice.
“I’m your past catching up with you at last.”
Magnus Larsen’s huge right hand became a clenched fist.
“I wouldn’t, if I were you,” said a voice at his back. “I can assure you, it won’t end well.”
Magnus pirouetted again and saw Gabriel standing next to the chair where Katje Strom, identical twin sister of Rikke Strøm, missing since September 2013, sat readingRomeo and Julietby William Shakespeare.
The CEO retreated in fear.
Gabriel smiled coldly. “I suppose that means I don’t have to go to the trouble of introducing myself.”
Magnus froze and squared his shoulders.
“Nothing to say for yourself, Magnus? Cat got your tongue?”
The piercing blue eyes blazed in anger. “You won’t get away with this, Allon.”
