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The English Assassin :: Silva Daniel
Страница: 53 из 209“So you think he was killed because of what he might have said to you?”
“That would seem to be the case.” Gabriel allowed a silence to settle between them. Then he asked: “Do you know why your father wished to speak with us?” “I think I can guess.”
“Will you tell me?”
“That depends.”
“On what?”
“On whether I decide to involve you and the government of Israel in the private affairs of my family.”
“I can assure you that we will handle the matter with utmost discretion.”
“You sound very much like a Swiss banker, Mr. Allon-but then I suppose you’re not so very different.” Her green eyes settled on him but betrayed nothing of her intentions. “I need some time to think about your offer.”
“I understand.”
“There’s a café in the village square. It’s owned by a man named Manuel. He has a guest room upstairs. It’s not much, but you’ll be comfortable there for a night. I’ll give you my decision in the morning.”
10
STUTTGART
ZURICH
THEY DROVE to Lisbon airport early the following afternoon. Anna Rolfe insisted on first class. Gabriel, traveling on Shamron’s parsimonious account, was relegated to economy. He trailed her through the Lisbon airport to make certain no one was following. As she neared the gate, a woman breathlessly thrust out a scrap of paper for an autograph. Anna obliged, smiled, and boarded the flight. Five minutes later, Gabriel followed. As he passed her seat she was sipping champagne. Gabriel trudged back to a middle seat in the twenty-third row. His back still ached from a sleepless night on Senhor Manuel’s beastly bed.
Gerhardt Peterson’s warning about not setting foot on Swiss soil still echoed in Gabriel’s ears, so instead of going directly to Zurich they went first to Stuttgart. There they engaged in a similar routine: Anna leaving the plane first, Gabriel following her through the terminal to a rental-car counter. She collected the keys and the paperwork for a small Mercedes sedan and rode a shuttle bus to the parking lot. Gabriel took a taxi to a nearby hotel and waited in the lobby bar. Twenty minutes later, he went outside and found Anna parked in the drive. She drove a short distance through the darkened streets, then pulled over and traded places with him. Gabriel turned onto the expressway and headed south. One hundred miles to Zurich. Anna reclined the front passenger seat, rolled her coat into the shape of a pillow, and tucked it beneath her head.
Gabriel said, “I enjoyed the piece that you were practicing yesterday.
“That would seem to be the case.” Gabriel allowed a silence to settle between them. Then he asked: “Do you know why your father wished to speak with us?” “I think I can guess.”
“Will you tell me?”
“That depends.”
“On what?”
“On whether I decide to involve you and the government of Israel in the private affairs of my family.”
“I can assure you that we will handle the matter with utmost discretion.”
“You sound very much like a Swiss banker, Mr. Allon-but then I suppose you’re not so very different.” Her green eyes settled on him but betrayed nothing of her intentions. “I need some time to think about your offer.”
“I understand.”
“There’s a café in the village square. It’s owned by a man named Manuel. He has a guest room upstairs. It’s not much, but you’ll be comfortable there for a night. I’ll give you my decision in the morning.”
10
STUTTGART
ZURICH
THEY DROVE to Lisbon airport early the following afternoon. Anna Rolfe insisted on first class. Gabriel, traveling on Shamron’s parsimonious account, was relegated to economy. He trailed her through the Lisbon airport to make certain no one was following. As she neared the gate, a woman breathlessly thrust out a scrap of paper for an autograph. Anna obliged, smiled, and boarded the flight. Five minutes later, Gabriel followed. As he passed her seat she was sipping champagne. Gabriel trudged back to a middle seat in the twenty-third row. His back still ached from a sleepless night on Senhor Manuel’s beastly bed.
Gerhardt Peterson’s warning about not setting foot on Swiss soil still echoed in Gabriel’s ears, so instead of going directly to Zurich they went first to Stuttgart. There they engaged in a similar routine: Anna leaving the plane first, Gabriel following her through the terminal to a rental-car counter. She collected the keys and the paperwork for a small Mercedes sedan and rode a shuttle bus to the parking lot. Gabriel took a taxi to a nearby hotel and waited in the lobby bar. Twenty minutes later, he went outside and found Anna parked in the drive. She drove a short distance through the darkened streets, then pulled over and traded places with him. Gabriel turned onto the expressway and headed south. One hundred miles to Zurich. Anna reclined the front passenger seat, rolled her coat into the shape of a pillow, and tucked it beneath her head.
Gabriel said, “I enjoyed the piece that you were practicing yesterday.