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distance of the two and poured himself a stiff brandy from the imitation crystal decanter on the table.

“You may want a snifter of brandy too,” Cortez directed at Cutler.

Cutler shifted with impatience. “I’m a big boy, so to repeat myself, spit it out!”

“Well, let me begin by talking about Hoagie. I was listening in when Werner gave the order to shoot Richter on the aircraft steps. I tried to phone you, but evidently you had put your mobile on flight mode.”

Cutler remembered the exact time he had put the mobile into flight mode; he had a routine that as soon as he left the departure lounge, he would set it on flight mode. It had been no more than a minute before the shot had hit Richter and all hell broke loose.

Cortez interrupted his thoughts. “The sniper is known throughout the underworld as ‘the albino’. His actual name is Lothar Gottschalk. He is a crack shot, and my contacts say he has at least twenty kills to his name.”

“So, we have identified who is responsible for Hoagie and the other deaths that night, that’s good. We have a name, so we can track him and deal with him. It’s the least we can do for Hoagie,” Cutler replied.

“You mean kill him,” interjected Shultz.

“I said deal with him. I am going to have to give it some thought, but don’t you worry. I will deal with it, and I won’t involve you if I can’t do it legally.”

Shultz shrugged his shoulders. “Don’t worry about my sensitivity and my involvement, because if I find the bastard who killed my wife, he will be a walking dead man from that moment on.”

“That leads me to Newcastle. You killed one of Werner’s thugs there, I believe. Again, he and the delegate were discussing the details,” declared Cortez.

“Him or us, I’m afraid, not something I’m proud of,” confirmed Cutler, referring to the elimination of Falco Jager.

“Not judging you, man, just affirming what is on those tapes. So legal or not legal, we need to wipe them clean, with your permission,” suggested Cortez.

“Make transcripts, omit the Newcastle details, and send it over a secure line to Fabienne.”

Cortez moved away from the support the wall gave him and filled a balloon glass with a good snifter of brandy. He would need it to move on with his report. After downing the smooth liquid, he felt the soothing heat in his throat and stomach and continued. “Werner was involved in your sister’s disappearance, although that is not strictly true; it was Bauer.”

Personal was one thing; this information went beyond that and hit Cutler like a sledgehammer. He stumbled back a yard or so until he steadied himself.

“Are you saying Werner had my sister killed, or not?”

“Actually not,” Cortez said, and the bemusement was spread wide across Cutler’s face.

“I’m confused. Werner sent Bauer to kill Elisa. So, if he didn’t kill her, what happened? Did he kidnap her instead?”

“No, I’m afraid she wasn’t kidnapped, and I’m sorry I have to tell you this. She is dead; no doubt about it, I’m afraid.” Cortez waited a minute for Cutler to absorb the fear that had been his bed partner every night.

“He tracked your family to Canada, and discovered they had left the day before to go on a cruise to Alaska. Bauer purchased a late deal on the Internet, and joined the ship in Vancouver.”

Cutler stiffened. “Bauer went to Canada and followed my family?”

“Evidently, from what I heard, he was on-board the ship and had problems locating your family on the ship. The cruise was full so you can imagine trying to locate three individuals amongst all those people. He could hardly go and ask for fear of arousing suspicion.”

Cutler stood there, shaking his head from side to side slightly, not wanting to believe what he was hearing, his anger rising.

“Finally, he located your sister and followed her until he became aware of her habits, to lay a trap. Your sister liked calling her friends after dinner, but she had a hard time finding a signal. The only place she could find one was on the top deck.

“Bauer set a trap and hid himself behind a partition on the top deck and waited for her. I think he was planning to kill her and throw her overboard. She came up at her usual time at 10 pm and Bauer was in hiding but within striking distance. According to Werner, when he was telling the German delegate, your sister was joined by some Asian, or half-Asian guy. Your sister appeared to know him as she addressed him as metro or masto, it’s unclear on the tape.”

Cutler could imagine the scene in his mind’s eye; Bauer hidden, Elisa smiling and bidding this guy ‘Good evening’. She was always pleasant and courteous. And he could even see the cell phone in her small hands.

“This guy was no ordinary Joe off the street. Bauer said he was trained in some martial art. He was quick on his feet, and he attacked her and killed her in a split second. At least it was not a painful death. The next part is not so sedate, and I can spare you if you wish,” offered Cortez.

Shultz interrupted, “You lost your sister on-board a ship just like I lost my wife? I didn’t know any of this. Is this why you set up MIDAS?” he asked Cutler.

“Sorry to butt in, Shultz, but that is a conversation for another time. He’s only just found out his sister is dead. No disrespect: you know your wife is dead and have had some time to deal with it. He hasn’t.”

“Tell me how she died,” Cutler said angrily, his eyes reflecting the pain.

“The Asian downed her in one blow. She was dead before she hit the deck. Strange thing is,

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