And then suddenly Kass's anger flared,his veins no longer ice, but boiling now, because there was something pitifuland debauched about the man and the young girl kneeling there as if waiting fordeath.

He looked at the man. His weapon had along, slim silencer, but from where Kass stood he couldn't see his face, onlyhis profile. But he noticed a vivid red scar that ran from the man's left eyeto his jaw, the blemish so livid that from a distance it looked as if someonehad painted it on.

He was talking to the man kneeling in thegrass, and in between his sobs the kneeling man was pleading. Kass couldn'thear the words but he could see that the man with the scar was not listening,realized that what he was about to witness was an execution.

And then it happened. So fast Kass hardlyhad time to react.

The scar-faced man lifted his revolveruntil it was Lebel with the kneeling man's forehead. The weapon gave a hoarsecough. A bullet slammed into the man's skull and his body jerked and crumpledon the grass.

The child screamed behind her gag, hereyes wild with raw fear.

Kass swallowed, wanted to scream too,felt icy sweat run down his face. He felt his heart was about to explode withterror. He wanted to turn back, to run, not witness what was about to happen,but for the first time he seemed to realize that he held the shotgun in hishands and that unless he did something the child was going to die.

He saw her struggle helplessly as theexecutioner pressed the tip of the barrel to her head and prepared to squeezethe trigger.

As Kass fumbled to raise his shotgun, hecalled out hoarsely, "Halt!"

A brutal, hard face turned to look athim. The scar-faced man stared coldly at Kass, his thin lips like slits cut inhis face with a razor. His eyes seemed to take in everything at a glance,flicking to the forest left and right, then settling on Kass again, assessinghis enemy, but no sign of fear in his eyes.

Kass called out shakily, "Stop, doyou hear me! Put down your weapon!"

He heard the naked fear in his own voiceand barely had time to squeeze the trigger as his adversary swung around andthe silenced pistol gave another hoarse cough. The bullet smashed into Kass'sright jaw, shattering bone and teeth, slicing through flesh, flinging him backagainst a tree, the shotgun flying from his grasp.

As Kass screamed in agony he saw the manfire into the child's head. Her body jerked and crumpled.

Kass stumbled back into the trees, butthe man was already rushing toward him. As Kass crashed through the woods andfled, oblivious to the pain in his shattered jaw, his only thoughts were ofsurvival and making it back to the car.

Fifty meters to go and he could see theOpel through the trees, could hear the man rushing through the forest afterhim.

Fifty long meters that seemed like athousand, and Kass ran like a man possessed, a hand on his bloodied face, hiswhole body on fire with a powerful will to survive, the savage image of theyoung girl's execution replaying in his mind like a terrible nightmare,spurring him on.

Please God. Thirty meters. Please.Twenty. Ten. God Please A bullet zinged through the trees, splintering wood tohis left.

Sweet Jesus ... And then suddenly he wasout of the woods.

As he reached the Opel and yanked openthe door the man emerged out of the forest behind him.

Kass did not hear the shot that hit himbut he felt the bullet slip between his back ribs like a red-hot dagger. Itjerked him forward onto the hood of the Opel.

He was already dead before he hit theground.

The bodies were found in the woods twodays later. Another hunter, like Kass, but this one more fortunate because hehadn't been in the wrong place at the wrong time. He threw up when he saw thechild's body.

Her pretty face was frozen and white. Theflesh around her head wound and behind her neck had been partly chewed away byforest rodents.

Even the hardened policemen of theLucerne Krindnaiamt thought it one of the most brutal murder scenes they hadever witnessed. There was always something pitiful and particularly brutalabout the body of a murdered child.

The subsequent forensic and pathologyexaminations determined that the girl was aged between ten and twelve. She hadnot been raped, but there was severe bruising on her legs, arms, chest andgenital area, which suggested she had been badly beaten and tortured some hoursbefore being shot. The same with the man's corpse lying next to hers. Bothbodies were placed in cold storage in the Lucerne police morgue.

The only corpse that could be identifiedwas that of Manfred Kass. In his wallet was a driver's license and a shotgunpermit, and he wore a wristwatch with an inscription, "To Manni, withlove, Hilda."

The police learned that the bakery workerhad gone hunting after his Friday-night shift and deduced that he had perhapsstumbled onto the slaughter of the man and the child and paid with his life.

But of the murderer or his identity,there was no trace at all.

A month later there was still no evidencethat linked the two unknown corpses to missing persons. Both had no personalidentification and had been wearing the sort of clothes that could be bought inany large clothing store in Europe. The child's dress and underwear had beenpurchased in a Paris department store, the man's suit had been bought from avery popular chain of men's outfitters in Germany.

Concerning the bodies, the only clue wasa faded, minute tattoo on the man's right arm. It was of a small white dove,two centimeters above his wrist.

Washington, D.C. December 12th It was alittle after eight in the evening when the DC-6 carrying President-Elect DwightD. Eisenhower from Tokyo landed at Andrews Air Force Base in Washington, D.C.

Although he was not to take over thereins of power until January, Eisenhower had flown to Seoul a month after hiselection to assess personally the war situation in the Far East, wanting to seefor himself the state of play on the muddy battlefields of Korea.

His meeting with President Harry Trumanthe next day was unofficial, and after the brief welcome Truman suggested theytake a walk in the White House gardens.

The air was crisp and clear, the groundcovered in a moist carpet of brown and gold leaves, as Truman led Eisenhowerdown the path through the lawns where the Secret Service men stood at strategicintervals.

The two men seemed a strange pair: thesmall bespectacled President with the bow tie and walking cane who, like acertain predecessor, believed that the way to earn respect was to speak softlyand carry a big stick, and the tall, erect military man and former five-stargeneral who had been a professional soldier all his life.

They had reached one of the oak benchesand Truman gestured for them to sit.

He lit up a Havana cigar, puffed outsmoke and sighed. "You know what I'm going to do the day after I leaveoffice?

I'm going to fly down to Florida and bakeunder a hot sun. Maybe do me some fishing. Seems like I haven't had time forthat in years." The President hesitated before he looked at Eisenhower'sface and said more seriously, "Tell me, Ike, what's your opinion ofStalin?"

The President called his successor by hisnickname, the one that had stuck with him since West Point as a young cadet.Eisenhower ran a hand over his almost bald head. His shoulders tensed as he satforward and looked out at the White House gardens.

"You mean as a militaryadversary?"

Truman shook his head. "I meant as aman."

Eisenhower shrugged and laughed bitterly."I don't think you need to ask me that question. I'm on the record in thatregard. The man's a despot and a dictator. Shrewd and cunning as they come. Youcould say he's the cause of all our present problems, or certainly most ofthem. I wouldn't trust the goddamned son-of-a-bitch an inch."