The Sandler Inquiry Part 15

She groped for them a final time, clenched them in her fist; and the fist was out from under the mattress and slamming into his back.

He bellowed with pain. The twin blades dug deeply below the left shoulderblade. His grip was suddenly gone from around her throat. She coughed painfully. He bent back and tried to get off her. But she stabbed the shears even deeper into his left side.

She had hurt him. Badly. He arched back, straddling her, and looked as if he were trying to reach the open wound in his back. He looked at her with crazed eyes, not comprehending how a naked woman could harm him.

She threw her arm forward a final time. He curled forward on the bed and struggled for life. . . .

It grew quiet in Thomas Daniels's office.

"There's not much more to say. Whoever he was, he died. His ident.i.ty was false. My only regret was that it hadn't been my father. Arthur Sandler escaped again. It was the last time I saw him."

"What about-?"

"The police in Switzerland?"

"Yes he said.

"It was taken care of. My foster parents flew home from Majorca immediately. They contacted London. My foster father had, shall we say, friends in the usual places. The British Consulate in Geneva straightened things with the Swiss. But I had to leave the country. My ident.i.ty was worthless. And besides, the Swiss don't like people who import trouble."

"Of course," he said in a low voice.

"I had a British pa.s.sport, so I used it. I relocated to Canada, where I continued my education. Before I left, my foster father gave me the Bible and the letters. Said they'd been given to him to hold for me until the proper time. I guess that was the proper time."

She shrugged.

"That brings us to the present, actually."

She fell silent. Thomas searched for the words.

"You don't look like someone who's actually killed a man," he said.

"Don't deceive yourself, Mr. Daniels" she warned.

"I'm not helpless."

"I can see that" She paused. She s.h.i.+fted her position slightly and seemed to try a tack that was almost totally contradictory, almost as if a different person were speaking.

"Look," she said,

"I'm coming across all wrong." Her manner was sweeter now, less abrasive, less harsh.

"You can see what I've contended with all my life. I do value human life, just as much as any other civilised person. But I want to live without fear. And I can't do that with uncertainty."

"Uncertainty. . . ?"

"About my father. I want to know that he's dead. He dealt with your firm. You must have had records Thomas glanced toward the charred remains of the files, but said nothing. Facts. All the facts were gone, he thought. Destroyed.

Where else could they be found?

"What if I find your father?" he asked.

"Alive."

"I hope you don't she said.

"But if I do?"

"I've told you' she said.

"For me to live, he must be dead." There was a long awkward pause.

Then the tension in her face melted and she seemed to relax again.

"I'm sorry," she said.

"I know how that must have sounded." .

"But it's your basic position" he a.s.sessed.

"Yes she said.

"I'm afraid it is." She offered him an agreeable smile. He recognized it for what it was, one of her more subtle weapons. Meanwhile she appraised him carefully, wondering if he'd believed her story.

"You will be able to produce a Sandler file?"

she asked.

"Of course" he said, marveling at the ease with which he could lie.

"It might take a few days. And I might speak with my father's former partner, Mr. Zenger."

"Good," she said pensively.

"Now, your fee... ?"

"My normal hourly rate," he began to explain slowly, 'is-" "I have no money," she said, "other than what's due to me from the Sandler estate.

I'm willing to offer you twenty-five per cent of what you eventually collect. In the meantime, I can't pay you anything."

Thomas agreed with little hesitation.

"Why don't I contact you Wednesday of next week" she said. She glanced around the burned office.

"By the way. Where will you be?"

Thomas thought for a moment.

"I have an office in my apartment. You can contact me there." He wrote his telephone number on a sheet of paper and handed it to her. He looked up.

"There's one thing you didn't explain'" he said.