“She’s still isolated.”

“She likes it like that,” Jock said suddenly. “No one too close.”

Caleb glanced back at him as he started the car. “You appear to understand her. Gardener to gardener?”

Jock didn’t answer as he gazed back at the cottage. “How did she get that AK-47? You can’t buy them on every street corner.”

“I gave it to her. That’s what she asked me to give her instead of cash for the first job she did for me. The AK-47, a Glock, and lessons on how to use both of them. I didn’t teach her martial arts or how to use a knife. She must have made a deal with someone else for that.”

“And how long ago was that first job she did for you?” Jane asked.

“Nine years. She’d just been smuggled out of Afghanistan and was trying to start a new life.”

“With an AK-47?” Jane asked dryly.

“She thought it might be necessary. She was probably right. Considering her background, I wasn’t going to try to talk her out of it.” Caleb lifted his shoulders. “Not that I would have made the attempt anyway. It was her business.”

“What was her background?” Jock asked. “Afghanistan?”

“She belonged to a very traditional Afghan family. She was permitted to go to a very good private school when she was a child, and she showed signs of brilliance. But her father took her out of school when she was twelve, and he began to hunt for a husband for her. With those looks, she was a prize. He arranged a marriage for her to a wealthy businessman when she was thirteen. He was old enough to be her grandfather and a sadistic bastard. He wanted a son from her, and she couldn’t conceive. He’d fly into tantrums and beat her unmercifully. She had to be taken to the hospital twice.” His lips twisted. “But even then her own family wouldn’t interfere. She belonged to her husband, and he could do anything he wished to her. She ran away when she was eighteen, but her husband found her and claimed she had been unfaithful. He wanted her stoned.”

“Good God. I thought the Afghans were becoming more moderate,” Jane said.

“As long as it’s not behind closed doors. It could very well have happened. But this time her brother stepped up to the plate and arranged for an ex-CIA friend to smuggle Lina out of the country. That’s as far as he’d go because he feared family disapproval.”

“So she was totally alone,” Jock said.

“John Garrett, the man who smuggled her out of Afghanistan, gave her enough money to go back to school and got her false ID papers to keep her safe.”

“Why did she need false ID?”

“Her husband died of a heart attack shortly after she left Kabul. His family blamed his death on her and swore to avenge him.”

“She hadn’t been through enough?” Jane shook her head. “I think I would have wanted to have an AK-47, too. But I wouldn’t have let those bastards drive me into hiding in the mountains.”

“She’s not hiding. She stopped doing that after she finished her schooling.”

“And learned how to fire an AK-47?” Jock added.

“When she left Afghanistan, she had very little formal education but an enormous determination to survive. Now she speaks and writes twelve languages fluently, including Japanese and Arabic. Translating was a career that she could do on her own terms if she became good enough. She’s accurate, nonjudgmental, and completely confidential.”

“Perfect for you,” Jane said.

“Perfect for a lot of people in this wicked world.” He slanted her a glance. “Including you at present.”

She nodded. “You said she wasn’t hiding any longer?”

“When she came here, she bought the property under her own name. If anyone was searching for her, she wanted to make sure that they knew she wasn’t afraid and was ready for them.”

“And has anyone come searching for her yet?”

“I don’t know. It wasn’t my business. If you want to know, you’ll have to ask her.”

“It’s not my business either.” But she was still curious. Her brief encounter with Lina Alsouk had been as intriguing as it had been frustrating. “If she does her job, that should be all that’s important to me.”

“She’s wounded,” Jock said. “You sensed it when you first saw her. That’s why you weren’t certain you should leave the translation with her. You didn’t want her to be hurt any more than she was already. You have trouble ignoring the wounded.”

“You make me sound like a do-gooder. If she’s wounded, then she’s walking wounded, and she’s using an AK-47 as a crutch.”

“It will still bother you.” He smiled. “Your instinct is to heal wounds. You can’t help it.”

“I just don’t want anyone else to be hurt or killed because of me.” She turned to Caleb. “You said we’d be at the bank in Zurich by five?”

“Yes, by the skin of our teeth. We have to stop at a drugstore first. And we just have to hope that Henrik Barnard isn’t taking a day off.”

“Who is Henrik Barnard?”

“Your own private banker.”

“What?”

“Well, Adah Ziller’s banker. It was the name on the same card that had her bank-account number.”

“Then why did you call him my banker?”

“Because the only way we’re going to get into that safety-deposit box is if you’re Adah Ziller.”

She stared at him in astonishment. “Are you crazy? Adah Ziller was black.”

“Actually, to be precise, a beautiful coffee-with-cream brown. A good bronzer makeup on your face and hands should take care of that. We’ll have to tuck your hair under a hat.”

“And where are we supposed to get that?”

“The drugstore. You can get practically anything at a drugstore these days.”

“I’d never get away with it,” she said flatly. “Drugstore? This is all too crude. Banks have cameras. Swiss banks are the most sophisticated in the world.”

“You’re right. And the most private. That’s why we have an excellent chance.” He glanced at her. “You don’t have to worry about being under intense scrutiny. No one is going to get close to you but Henrik Barnard. We only need the dark makeup to make sure that nothing is too obvious.”

“Obvious? It’s obvious that I’m not black. And I probably weigh ten pounds more than Adah Ziller. She was built like a runway model.”

“Trust me. It will all come together,” Caleb said.

“If she doesn’t get arrested,” Jock said. “There will be guards all over that bank.”

Caleb looked directly into her eyes. “Trust me.”

It was crazy. A bank full of officers and clerks and guards ready to step in and protect the sanctity of the Swiss banking system. Yet Caleb wasn’t crazy, and he thought they could get away with it. They needed to know what was in that safety-deposit box.

Why the hell not try? she thought recklessly. “You’d better not be mistaken, Caleb.”

“I won’t let you be hurt.” His glance shifted back to the road. “I promise.”

She looked back at Jock. “You’re not arguing with me.”

“It wouldn’t do any good,” Jock said quietly. “I’ll just have to go along with him and see if he hurts you.” He smiled. “And then I’ll kill him.”

Caleb burst out laughing. “A good plan.”

“Jock, you don’t go in that bank with us,” Jane said firmly. “I won’t have it.”

“I won’t argue about that either,” Jock said. “Someone has to be free to get you out of trouble if this idiocy blows up in your faces. I’ll be the getaway man again.”

“You said if,” Caleb said. “Not when. Interesting.”

“Is it?” Jock leaned back in the seat. “Take it apart, analyze it. It will give you something to do on the drive to Zurich.”

“THAT BRONZER IS PRETTY GOOD.” Caleb was gazing at her critically. “But you need more on your hands.”

She took the pad and poured more bronzer on it. “I can’t get it dark enough. I just look like I have a deep tan.”

“So did Adah Ziller. You’re dark enough.” He handed her the black straw hat and gold hoop earrings. “Hurry. It’s quarter to five.”

“Pressure.” She tucked every strand of her red-brown hair beneath the wide-brimmed hat and put on the two-inch hoops. She did look exotic, she thought critically, as she looked at the mirror on the dashboard, but nothing like Adah Ziller. “It’s not going to work.”