CHAPTER 42
As soon as Nathalie had left the flat in the Hirschgasse, Mark grabbed his mobile and called Fred. He told him to stand by. Nathalie could call at any minute.
He took a shower. Donning a bathrobe, he tried watching the international news shows on TV but couldn’t concentrate. Finally, her call came through on his cell phone. She was ringing from a public phone box, a precaution they had agreed upon when she'd returned from France. There was no small talk.
"When is the earliest we can get in?" Mark said.
"He's still in town. But I've just spoken to Cook. She says he won't be back before dinnertime tomorrow – but more probably on Friday or Saturday. There's been a sudden change in his plans it seems."
"What sort of change?" Mark said, horrific thoughts shooting through his hea
