“No,” Jock said. “But not ones I like to use in your case.” He headed for the door. “I’ll pack and meet you downstairs in the lobby. Which car are we using?”

“The BMW,” Caleb said. “It’s not a rental and can’t be traced.”

“What?”

Caleb shrugged. “I’m a hunter. It’s convenient for me to keep a car at several cities in Europe. Paris is one of them. The license-plate numbers are phony, and I have an extra set in the boot.”

“Then I didn’t need to throw mud on those plates at Adah Ziller’s place,” Jock said dryly.

“No, but I didn’t have time to tell you at the time,” Caleb said. “We were in a bit of a hurry.”

“We’re still in a hurry,” Jane said. “I don’t want to have to hang around and wait until the bank opens tomorrow morning.”

“Then you won’t have to do it. I told you that we’ll work it out,” Caleb said. “I’ll go down and gas up the car for the trip.”

Day Four

LINA ALSOUK LIVED IN A SMALL picture-postcard cottage in the foothills of the Alps. The scenery was spectacular, the house cozy, and the woman kneeling in the vegetable garden was probably the most beautiful woman Jane had ever seen. Though like the scenery, that beauty was entirely natural and owed nothing to artifice. Lina Alsouk was in her late twenties, with short, dark, curly hair and huge brown eyes that glowed in her thin, tanned face. She had perfect features but wore no makeup and her hair was very simply styled. She was dressed in jeans and a navy sweatshirt that were worn and shabby with use.

“It’s about time, Caleb,” she said as she wiped her dirty hands on the towel she picked up from the ground beside her. “You tell me to make myself ready, then you take hours to get here.” Her English was perfect, with only a hint of an accent. “You’re taking me for granted. I should have told you to take your business elsewhere.”

“But I’m such a good customer,” Caleb said as he got out of the car and strolled toward her. “And you never know when you might need a customer like me. How are you, Lina?”

She shrugged. “Well, enough. And you?”

“Better than when I last saw you.” He glanced at Jane, who was getting out of the car. “I had a very successful hunt recently.”

“The man you were hunting when I first met you?” When he nodded, she smiled brilliantly. “That is good. I’m happy for you.” She turned to Jane. “You are Jane MacGuire? Caleb told me about you. I will try to help.”

“Lina Alsouk, Jane MacGuire,” Caleb waved at Gavin, who was coming toward them. “And this is Jock Gavin.”

Lina smiled and nodded. “I am pleased to meet any friend of Caleb’s.”

“Well, he doesn’t exactly consider himself my friend,” Caleb said. “But he’s definitely Jane’s friend.”

“Yes.” Jock held out his hand to Lina. “May I help you up?”

She shook her head. “I’m dirty.”

“So am I.” He took her hand and pulled her to her feet. “It just doesn’t show.” He smiled. “And I like the feel of earth on my hands. I had a garden of my own until recently. Gardening is very healing, isn’t it?” He looked at the rows. “Vegetables. I planted mostly flowers.”

“I like to make sure I’m totally independent here. I can eat tomatoes; flowers aren’t nearly as digestible.” She tore her gaze away from him and turned to Caleb. “Where is this book I’m supposed to translate?”

“I have it.” Jane took the leather book out of her purse. “It looks like some kind of journal. I don’t know if any of the information will be pertinent. I think I could make out a few of the dates. Some of the earlier entries appear to be over five years old.”

“I can’t touch it yet. I have to wash my hands.” She turned toward the front door. “Come in.”

The interior of the cottage was one huge room with an adjoining kitchen. The furniture was sparse, comfortable, but very simple.

Lina went to the stainless-steel sink and began to wash her hands. “I’d offer you a cup of tea, but Caleb said you were going to be in a hurry.”

“We are,” Jane said. “Thank you.” She handed her the towel on the hook by the sink. “I’d appreciate your doing it as quickly as possible.”

She nodded as she took the book. “I’ll do what I can.” She took her laptop and a pad and pencil from the desk and sat down in a chair at the kitchen table. She started to flip through the book. “I usually do a scan first. Just to pull out the main content. Is that all right?”

Jane nodded. “Whatever. Maybe you can tell us enough to know if we can use any of it.”

She flipped back to the first page. “Adah Ziller. It is a journal of sorts. But it spans years and is very spotty. It starts when she was a schoolgirl in Syria. It seems to skip several years and continues when she was at the university in England.” She flipped more pages. “It’s pretty disjointed. It’s going to take some time.”

“How much time?”

She shrugged. “Six, eight hours minimum.” She saw Jane frown, and said, “Do you want accuracy or guesswork? I don’t do guesswork.”

“Okay.” She nodded. “I guess I’m impatient. There are reasons.”

“There are reasons for everything. I’ll get it done as quickly as I can.”

“I know you will,” Caleb said. “We can’t wait for it. As it is, we won’t be in Zurich before nearly five. We’ll come back and pick it up.” He turned to Jane. “If you’ll trust the book out of your hands?”

Jane hesitated.

“You can trust her,” Caleb said. “I guarantee it. No matter what’s in that book, she’ll forget it as soon as she makes the translation.”

“That’s not what I was worrying about. I don’t even know if this translation is any more than Adah Ziller’s bedroom antics.” She looked at Lina. “But the woman who wrote this was murdered. There may be people who are interested in it as much as we are.”

“We weren’t followed, Jane,” Caleb said. “I made sure of it.”

“I’m glad you’re sure. But I’m not sure of anything,” Jane said. “Except that she has to be warned.”

Lina smiled faintly. “Thank you. Some of my clients haven’t been that considerate. But I can take care of myself. After I left Afghanistan, I made very sure of that.” She leaned forward and opened the ledger. “Now get out of here and let me work. I want to get through with this so that I can get back to my garden before dark. I need to finish putting in my tomatoes.”

“I could help when we come back to pick up the translation,” Jock offered.

She shook her head. “I like to do things on my own. I don’t need anyone. Go away.”

“Whatever you say,” Jock said as he turned toward the door. “I’ll ask you again when I come back.”

She didn’t answer. She was already making notes on her pad.

“I’ll call you when we start back from Zurich,” Caleb said.

She nodded absently.

They weren’t even there for her, Jane thought, as she left the cottage. The woman’s concentration was so intense that she had closed out everything but that handwriting on the page.

“She’ll get it done,” Caleb said as he opened the car door for her. “Lina is brilliant. She’ll get every phrase right.”

“I’m not doubting her ability. You wouldn’t deal with anyone who couldn’t do the job.” She looked around the hillside, then down to the valley. Majestic mountains plunged into the crystal blue lake, and only a few farmhouses dotted the landscape. “It’s just that it’s so isolated here. She’s very vulnerable.”

“And you’re worried about us coming back and finding her with no head.” The words were blunt and brutal.

She flinched. “I’m worried about anyone I come in contact with.”

“Well, she’s not as vulnerable as you might think. She has an AK-47 in the pantry of that cozy kitchen, and she knows how to use it. She’s trained in martial arts, and she’s not bad with a knife. You’ll notice her cottage is on a hill, approachable only from one direction, and she can see anyone coming. If she hadn’t been expecting me, she wouldn’t have been in that garden when we drove up.”