Now Berman was sitting in the kitchen of a large, old stone house in this tiny village, looking out over a well-tended lawn and picture-perfect English garden surrounded by a sunk fence. He had noticed the massive iron gates, the numerous cameras and guards that represented the visual security. Although Jimmy had said something about diplomats, Berman thought that he was probably in a government safe house, perhaps belonging to the Guoanbu, the Ministry of State Security, China’s version of the CIA. Berman knew better than to ask which host he should send a thank-you gift to.
“How is the tea?” asked Jimmy, who had made Berman a brew in a mug adorned with the logo of the BBC.
“The tea is excellent, thank you.”
“I have gained respect for the English way of making tea,” said Jimmy. “I take it strong, with milk and sugar. And the water must be hot, but past boiling. No tepid cups of water with a tea bag on the side, like in your country. That’s an abomination.”
“The tea is very restorative,” said Berman, who felt that he needed more than a cup of tea to get back to a semblance of normality. “Where did you take her?”
“One good thing about English houses is that the old ones, like this one, have generous cellars. We have converted the one here so we can accommodate the occasional guest, particularly those who are, as we say, detained.”
“How convenient,” said Berman lightly.
Jimmy smashed his hand down on the table, and Berman’s hand jumped, sending hot tea over his knuckles. Berman had never seen Jimmy lose his temper. It shocked him.
“This is not a time to be flippant. I am taking risks for you doing this. Big risks. There is no place more treacherous than a house full of spies, which is what this is in actuality. So we took her down there and only a couple of people know it. How would I explain this woman to my superiors? How would I explain how your mind is controlled by your libido like a teenager?”
“But you said I should bring her. It was your idea.” Berman was momentarily taken aback.
“My desire would be for her not to exist at all, but she does. I realized that she could not be made to disappear adequately in Colorado, not with the resources that are available and with the bothersome independence of your police. Most of them, anyway. This problem must be contained. We are so close to fruition. I don’t want our collaboration to be jeopardized.” Jimmy looked pointedly at Berman. “So I will take care of things myself.”
“Look, Jimmy, I have unfinished business—”
“You are a foolish man. There are millions of women available.”
“Not like her,” said Berman, and he could see Jimmy relax slightly.
“Look, I know that powerful men have such weaknesses,” said Jimmy with a sigh of resignation. “I have a couple myself, as do all my superiors. We know how to handle this kind of situation. So we will handle this rationally. The precautions you have made are good ones. There is nothing to connect this woman with this property, which is the important thing at this time. And you will keep her quiet.”
“Whitney Jones is making sure of that. The woman is out cold and will continue to be sedated in the near future. All I want is a chance to convince her to join the team.”
Berman looked at his watch. By his reckoning, it was eleven P.M. in Colorado, and Paul Caldwell would be due to come off his shift. How long before he raised the alarm? Berman wondered.
CHAPTER 48
Paul Caldwell had stayed at work at the hospital for more than an hour after his shift was due to end. He was exhausted, and gripped with anxiety about Pia, but there were hospital cases he couldn’t abandon, even under these circumstances. It had been twenty-two hours since Pia had left his sight without getting in touch with him, and by the time Paul drove back to Pia’s apartment, he was convinced something had happened to her.
Once more, he rang her bell, even banged on the door in frustration, and called her name. As he waited, a door down the hall opened a sliver and an elderly woman’s voice called out.
“Do you mind, young man? It’s very late.”
“Excuse me, I apologize. May I have a word?” Paul walked toward the voice, and heard the chain going on the door. “I’m a doctor.”
“I can see that,” said the woman. She had mostly closed the door, exposing only a three-inch vertical slice of her face and one eye. “It’s the coat. It’s the only reason I haven’t shut the door. What do you want with that young woman? I think I have seen you before. Is she your girlfriend?”
“She’s a friend. I’m worried about her. I haven’t seen her in a couple of days.”
“I have seen you here before. You’re only the third man I’ve seen visit her. Another one tried to visit her, but she wouldn’t let him. I was about to call the police. She doesn’t know I’ve seen people, but I have. I mean, I don’t see everybody, but I see a lot.”
“Look, madam, may I come in?”
“You may not. I saw her last night around this time. I don’t sleep too well at night, and I hear things like with you coming here now. She came home just about this time, and she was carrying her clothes.”
“Excuse me?” Paul said. He wasn’t sure he’d heard correctly. “She was carrying her clothes. You mean she was naked?” That seemed hard to believe.
“No, she wasn’t naked. For some reason she had on her undergarments and was holding her clothes. And a camera, I think. I saw her, but she didn’t see me. I don’t know if I should be telling you this or not.”
“I’m glad you are. Did you see her again last night?”
“Yup. Wasn’t too much after she’d come home that she went back out again. This time she had her clothes on and was in a hurry. I mean, I don’t understand you young people, surely I don’t.”
“Did you see her after that?”
“No, I didn’t.”
“You didn’t see her at all today or hear anything?”
“No, I didn’t, but I sleep more in the day than during the night. I don’t know why.”
“Have you seen anyone else?”
“Yes. I saw you this morning. And a man who looked like a police officer was leaving the building earlier, but I don’t know which apartment he was in. It’s not like I stand here all day spying on people, you know.”
“I’m sure you don’t, madam.”
“Well, if you’re a friend, the key’s on top of the door. But you know that already.” And the door closed, indicating the conversation was over.
Paul checked the angle from the woman’s door to Pia’s and figured that she could see Pia’s door only if she had her own door open slightly, as she just had. It was likely she could miss someone coming or going unless she spent the whole day peering out through the crack in the door. If she heard a noise — and her hearing seemed reasonable — and she went to the peephole, she wouldn’t be able to see anything.
Which meant that Pia still might be inside.
Paul went back to Pia’s door. Taking the key down, he opened up.
“Be here, Pia. Be here,” he said quietly. But she wasn’t.
She had been here, though. There were signs of life about the place. A half-empty half-gallon carton of milk stood on the kitchen counter next to a copy of the Monday’s Denver Post. Paul went into Pia’s bedroom, and her chest of drawers was open and apparently some of her clothes gone. He checked in the bathroom and there was no toothbrush, although he couldn’t swear there had been one there earlier.