Are You Afraid of the Dark?

"Oh." "And what did you want to see me about?" "I wanted to talk to you about Sonja Verbrugge." The woman shook her head. "Frau Verbrugge is not here." "I know," Diane said. "She’s dead. I’m trying to find out how she died." The woman was regarding Diane intently. "It was an accident. When the police confiscated her computer, they found-" A sly expression came over her face. "If you will wait right here, fraulein, I will call someone who can help you. I will return quickly." As Diane watched her hurry around the back, she was filled with a sudden sense of unease. When the woman was out of sight, Diane rushed outside and got into the car. There was going to be no help there. I have to talk to Franz Verbrugge’s secretary.

At a telephone kiosk, Diane got the number of KIG and dialed.

"KIG Berlin." Diane said, "Could I speak to Franz Verbrugge’s secretary, please?" "Who is calling?" "This is Susan Stratford." "One moment, please." In Tanner’s office, the blue light had flashed on. Tanner smiled at his brother.

"That’s Diane Stevens calling. Let’s see if we can help her." He put the call on speakerphone.

The voice of the KIG operator said, "His secretary is not here. Would you like to speak to his assistant?" "Yes, please." "Just a moment." A female voice came on. "This is Heidi Fronk. May I help you?" Diane’s heart began to beat faster. "This is Susan Stratford. I’m a reporter with the Wall Street Journal. We’re doing a story on the recent tragedies that have happened to some employees at KIG. I wonder if I could have an interview with you?" "I don’t know-" "Just for some background information." Tanner was listening intently.

"What about lunch? Are you free today?"

"I’m sorry, no."

"Dinner, then." There was hesitation in her voice. "Yes, I suppose I could do that." "Where would you like to meet?" "There is a fine restaurant called Rockendorf’s. We could meet there." "Thank you." "Eight-thirty?" "Eight-thirty." Diane replaced the receiver, smiling.

Tanner turned to Andrew. "I’ve decided to do what I should have done in the first place. I’m calling Greg Holliday to handle the matter. He’s never failed me." He looked at Andrew.

"He has an inflated ego. He charges an arm and a leg, but"-he smiled thinly-"he’ll deliver an arm and a leg."

Chapter Thirty-Seven

AS KELLY APPROACHED the door of Sam Meadows ‘s apartment at 14 Rue du Bourg-Tibourg, in the Fourth Ar-rondissement, she hesitated. Now that the chase was drawing to a conclusion, she was finally going to get some answers. She found herself drawing back, afraid to hear them.

Kelly rang the doorbell. The moment the door opened and she saw Sam Meadows, her fears went away. All she felt was pleasure and relief at seeing this man who had been so close to Mark.

"Kelly!" He cradled her in a warm bear hug.

"Oh, Sam."

He took her hand. "Come on in." Kelly stepped inside. It was a charming two-bedroom apartment, in a building that had once belonged to a member of the French nobility.

The drawing room was spacious and luxuriously appointed with French furniture, and in a small alcove, there was a curiously carved oak bar. On the wall was a Man Ray, and Adolf Wolfli drawings.

"I can’t tell you how devastated I am about Mark," Sam said awkwardly.

Kelly patted his arm. "I know," she whispered.

"It’s unbelievable." "I’m trying to find out what happened," Kelly said. "That’s why I’m here. I hope you can help me." She took a seat on the couch, filled with a sense of anticipation and apprehension.

Sam’s face darkened. "No one seems to know the full story. Mark was working on a secret project.

He was apparently collaborating with two or three other employees at KIG. They say he committed suicide." "I don’t believe it," Kelly said vehemently.

"I don’t either." His voice softened. "And do you know the main reason? Because of you." Kelly looked at Sam, puzzled. "I don’t understand? "How could Mark ever leave someone as lovely as you? How could anyone ever leave someone as lovely as you?" He was moving closer. "What happened is a great tragedy, Kelly, but life has to go on, doesn’t it?" He put her hand in his. "We all need someone, don’t we? He’s gone, but I’m here.

Your kind of woman needs a man."

"My kind of-?" "Mark told me how passionate you are. He says you love it." Kelly turned to him in surprise. Mark would never have said that. He would never have discussed her like that with anyone.

Sam put one arm around her shoulders. "Yes. Mark told me you really had to have it. He used to tell me how great you were in bed." Kelly was suddenly panic-stricken.

Sam said, "And Kelly, if it makes you feel any better, Mark didn’t suffer at all." And she looked into Sam Meadows’s eyes and she knew.

"We’ll be having dinner in a few minutes," Sam said. "Why don’t we work up an appetite in bed?" Kelly felt suddenly faint. She managed to force a smile. "That sounds great." Her mind was working furiously. He was too big for her to fight, and she had nothing to fight him with. He began fondling her. "You know you’ve got a great ass, baby. I go for that," Kelly smiled. "Do you?" She sniffed. "I’m hungry. Something smells good." "Our dinner." Before he could stop her, Kelly got up and moved toward the kitchen. As she passed the dinner table, she got a shock. The table had been set for one.

Kelly turned. In the drawing room, Sam was walking over to the door and turning the key in the lock. She watched him put the key in the drawer of an armoire.