“Of course not. I apologize. I’ll tell you what, I have time available tomorrow to meet with you if you still want, but after that I will be quite busy with an ongoing assignment.”

“Done,” replied Claudia. “I’ll meet you at your office say-”

“Oh, I’m quite sorry once again.”

“Why?”

“I won’t be in my office tomorrow. I’m taking a little time off and will be at my home in Lucerne.”

It wasn’t unusual for government officials to keep a small apartment in the capital and then commute home on the weekends. The Swiss were extremely loyal to their cantons and ancestral homes. Claudia herself spent many weekends with her family back in Grindelwald in the house that would one day pass to her when her parents were gone.

She paused to figure out how long it would take her to get from Bern to Lucerne and whether she should go by car or by train.

“I’ll tell you what,” began Miner.

Again with “I’ll tell you what,” Claudia thought. After being dodged for two months, Claudia was ready to jump down Miner’s throat, but she knew she had to be careful. She had recently applied for a new position within her organization, and stepping on the toes of one of the Ministry of Defense’s most respected officers wouldn’t help her move any quicker up the ladder.

Life at the Bundesanwaltschaft had grown to be extremely tedious for Claudia. She had taken the job with the Federal Attorney’s Office right out of law school. She was fluent in all four official languages of Switzerland: German, Italian, French, and even the rarely spoken Romansch. She was also fluent in English. Her enviable ability with languages, tenacious manner, and keen eye for detail made Claudia a shoo-in for the Bundespolizei, the investigative affairs division of the Bundesanwaltschaft. As much as Claudia had enjoyed her job in civil intelligence at the outset, she longed for the promotion that would take her out of the mundane business of being a glorified detective and put her on cases that were much more exciting and that she could actually prosecute.

But no matter how badly Claudia wanted to switch to another department, she would not for a moment compromise an ongoing investigation. Worse than stepping on a few Ministry of Defense toes, would be not solving this case. And, if she couldn’t solve this one, she was sure she would end up staying exactly where she was, or worse, she would get demoted, or possibly even fired.

Claudia’s boss, Arianne Küess, had been handpicked to be head prosecutor for the war crimes tribunal at the United Nations Court. This meant that the missing weapons case was being led by the very disagreeable Deputy Federal Attorney, Urs Schnell. This was Schnell’s first case and he wanted it wrapped up with a ribbon ASAP. He had placed a very high priority on this, and the weight rode chafingly on Claudia’s shoulders. The problem was that she had not made any progress and was quickly running out of leads.

“Let’s meet for lunch here. Is that convenient for you?” Without even waiting for a reply, Miner continued, “We’ll meet at the restaurant in the Hotel des Balances in the Old Town. Say, twelve-thirty?”

No, it wouldn’t be convenient for her to travel to Lucerne, but Claudia needed to speak with Miner, so she agreed and hung up the phone. That evening, she agonized over what to wear. She wanted to appear professional, but knowing Miner’s penchant for women, she couldn’t help but want to play her good looks for all they were worth. She was scraping the bottom of the ethical barrel and she knew it, but she was desperate. She chose an attractive, tight-fitting navy blue skirt that rode just above the knee and a form-fitting navy blue blazer with a funky silver blouse. She left one button undone and then undid the second upon entering the lobby of the hotel at twelve-twenty-five the following day.

Miner had been considerate enough to select one of the restaurant’s quieter tables. The booth was framed at one end by a window facing onto the Reuss River. Beyond a clutch of empty iron patio tables, a group of Lucerne’s swans paddled slowly past the city’s historic, covered Kapellbrücke bridge. Miner appeared to be watching them as they up-ended their snow white tails, plumbing the depths of the quickly flowing current in search of food. In reality, he was using the reflection of the window to observe Investigative Affairs Agent Mueller’s entrance, as well as the rest of the lunch patrons who had entered the restaurant in the last twenty minutes. Miner watched Claudia walk almost the length of the dining room, then feigned surprise when she finally reached the table.

“Herr Miner, good afternoon. Sorry to startle you.” Claudia leaned over to shake his hand, certain that he had seen her entrance.

The game was on.

Two hours later, dissatisfied and angry, she left the Hotel des Balances. She needed to walk a little and clear her head. Claudia made her way up the hotel’s short cobblestone driveway toward the Weinmarkt, in Lucerne’s Old Town.

The Old Town, on Lucerne’s right bank, was a pedestrianized area of aging cobblestone streets and buildings from the sixteenth through the eighteenth centuries. Many of the facades were decorated with frescoes depicting Swiss life. The ground floors of the buildings housed boutiques, restaurants, and small shops. One couldn’t walk two meters in this part of town without seeing displays of watches or cuckoo clocks. There was no question that it was geared heavily toward tourists, but its beauty always had a soothing effect on Claudia.

She wandered aimlessly past the shops along the Kapellgasse trying to make some sense of her meeting with Miner. He had been cordial, but cordial to the point of condescension. It hadn’t taken Claudia long to realize that Miner wasn’t going to reveal anything, at least not willingly. He was extremely uncooperative, choosing to shroud himself in the cloak of national security whenever Claudia put a direct question to him.

“Where were you on the night the weapons were stolen?”

“On assignment.”

“On assignment where and for what?”

“I cannot say.”

“Can’t say where, or can’t say for what?”

“Neither.”

“And why can’t you say?”

“It is a matter of national security.”

“And a large amount of sensitive weaponry missing from a Swiss defense depot isn’t a matter of national security?”

“All I can say is, it is not my matter. It’s yours.”

“Herr Miner, is it that you can’t tell me your whereabouts on the night in question, or is it that you just won’t?”

“It is both,” Miner replied. “I won’t tell you because I can’t.”

“Are you aware, Herr Miner, that I can get a court order to compel you to answer my questions?”

“Yes.”

“So, why don’t you make it easier on both of us: answer my questions and I will go back to Bern to pursue my investigation from there.”

“Fräulein Mueller, I am not in the business of making your job easy. I serve the Federal Republic of Switzerland. I’m not at liberty to answer the questions you’re asking. Should you wish to attempt to compel me to answer, I assure you your efforts will be met with much resistance. I do a job for the people of Switzerland that is, shall we say, delicate. I have done this job for more years than you have even been alive. My position does not require me to answer your questions. I have told you I would be of no value to your investigation, yet you pursued me nonetheless.”

Claudia was determined to get something out of him and so, changed course. “Perhaps, then, as you are an expert on the security of Swiss military installations, maybe you could suggest to me how such a theft would be possible and where such weaponry might be secreted or sold, if that was the intent.”

“Fräulein Mueller, I have learned that there are many ways to enter one of our bases undetected. A person or persons could have done so with or without assistance from someone inside. Were there any signs of a forced entry?”