CHAPTER 20
Erik von Weissenstein was on the way to his palatial home. He sat in the rear compartment of the custom-built twelve-cylinder Mercedes. But not relaxed. His wife Nathalie very much on his mind.
Inside the main entrance to the mansion, Weissenstein had a word with the porter. Nathalie was still in France, he said. There'd been no messages since she'd left for Cannes a week ago.
He took his private lift up to his rooms, knowing he had no reason to care. From the agency, he would soon learn what she had been up to.
Refreshed from a long bath, he pulled on a cotton bathrobe. Drying his thinning hair with the towel, he returned to his study. The large desk was piled with his personal mail. With a sigh, he went about catching up. First perusing the list of people who had rung. Whi
