"Let's analyze the case. Her faults. She didn't follow instructions too well."

Paul looked straight into Malcolm's eyes. He said, "No, she went to the beach once-and that saved her life."

"She established a relationship with a stranger. That may have created serious leaks." Malcolm began tapping a pencil between two fingers.

"That's true." Paul became pensive. "She must have felt lonely…"

"Let's leave out the reason, Paul," Malcolm snapped. "The reason is immaterial. The facts are what count."

"She didn't do much wrong, considering-"

"Okay, I know what you mean. Let's consider our own doings, then."

"I'd say, Malcolm, that we have been-that-that we haven't been adequate. Now I found the correct word. We recommended two people who, after months of protection, were lured into a conspiracy to eliminate her."

Malcolm sighed. He rose and began pacing his office. "We don't know about Edda. Not for sure. She helped Tanya to get away. That's a fact. But there were two tickets to Rio de Janeiro. Two air tickets. So-she may have known, or agreed, to some extent. Then Charles Aldrin-I still can't believe Charles would do anything of that sort."

"He was a former CIA agent. That was no recommendation at all," Paul said.

"Tanya needed an experienced and resourceful bodyguard." Malcolm stopped in front of Paul. "I had little choice. I had to find somebody in less than five days. Charles and Edda had worked together, they made a good team."

"I understand. Nevertheless-Oh, Edda. Is she still alive?" Paul asked.

"No. She died without regaining consciousness. This morning. That's why I was late."

"No leads there, then." Paul said sighing.

"No. End of the line. Who can have contacted Charles?" Malcolm asked. He leaned against his desk, in front of Paul. "Charles and Edda were in contact with us, the Italian police, and Mr. Matwin. Basically, nobody else."

"There must be a connection, somewhere."

"Do you think this 'connection' may have something to do with Tanya's past? Or with Mr. Matwin?" Malcolm seemed to be questioning himself more than questioning Paul. The pencil between his fingers swung faster and faster.

"Mr. Matwin showed up only recently. The attempts on Tanya's life started before. But we can examine both possibilities. Any hunches about Kevin?"

"I don't trust that lover boy. He's a suspect in my book," Malcolm said gravely. "And not a minor one, either. There's something in his attitude toward Tanya which doesn't convince me." He raised his eyebrows. "He's accustomed to classy women. Very classy. He falls for a girl with no sophistication at all. The way she dresses, her hair style, the speed at which she gobbles up food-she would never fit in his social environment." The pencil flew off Malcolm's fingers, tumbling on the floor. Nobody bothered to pick it up. Both Malcolm and Paul were busy pondering.




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