WHEN DIANE ARRIVED in Berlin at the Tempelhof airport, there was a fifteen-minute waiting line for a taxi. Finally, it was Diane's turn.
The driver smiled. "Wohin."
"Do you speak English?"
"Of course, fraulein."
"Kempinski Hotel, please."
"Ja wohl."
TWENTY-FIVE MINUTES LATER, Diane was checking into the hotel. "I would like to hire a car and driver." "Certainly, fr�ulein." He looked down. "Your baggage?" "It's coming."
WHEN THE CAR arrived, the driver asked, "Where do you wish to go, fr�ulein?" She needed time to think. "Just drive around for a while, please." "Gut. There is much to see in Berlin."
BERLIN WAS A surprise to Diane. She knew that it had been bombed almost out of existence in World War II, but what she saw now was a bustling city with attractive, modern buildings and a brisk air of success.
The street names seemed so odd to her: Windscheidstrasse, Regensburgerstrasse, L�tzowufer?
As they drove, the driver explained the history of the parks and buildings, but Diane was not listening.
She had to speak to the people where Frau Verbrugge had worked and find out what they knew. According to the Internet, Franz Verbrugge's wife had been murdered and Franz had disappeared.
Diane leaned forward and said to the driver, "Do you know where a computer cafe is?" "Certainly, fraulein." "Would you take me there, please?" "It is excellent. Very popular. You can get any information you want there." I hope so, Diane thought.
THE CYBERLIN CAFE was not as large as its counterpart in Manhattan, but it seemed just as busy.
As Diane walked in the door, a woman came from behind the desk. "We will have a computer available in ten minutes." "I want to speak to the manager," Diane said.
"I am the manager."
"Oh." "And what did you want to see me about?" "I wanted to talk to you about Sonja Verbrugge." The woman shook her head. "Frau Verbrugge is not here." "I know," Diane said. "She's dead. I'm trying to find out how she died." The woman was regarding Diane intently. "It was an accident. When the police confiscated her computer, they found-" A sly expression came over her face. "If you will wait right here, fraulein, I will call someone who can help you. I will return quickly." As Diane watched her hurry around the back, she was filled with a sudden sense of unease. When the woman was out of sight, Diane rushed outside and got into the car. There was going to be no help there. I have to talk to Franz Verbrugge's secretary.
At a telephone kiosk, Diane got the number of KIG and dialed.
"KIG Berlin." Diane said, "Could I speak to Franz Verbrugge's secretary, please?" "Who is calling?" "This is Susan Stratford." "One moment, please." In Tanner's office, the blue light had flashed on. Tanner smiled at his brother.
"That's Diane Stevens calling. Let's see if we can help her." He put the call on speakerphone.
The voice of the KIG operator said, "His secretary is not here. Would you like to speak to his assistant?" "Yes, please." "Just a moment." A female voice came on. "This is Heidi Fronk. May I help you?" Diane's heart began to beat faster. "This is Susan Stratford. I'm a reporter with the Wall Street Journal. We're doing a story on the recent tragedies that have happened to some employees at KIG. I wonder if I could have an interview with you?" "I don't know-" "Just for some background information." Tanner was listening intently.
"What about lunch? Are you free today?"
"I'm sorry, no."
"Dinner, then." There was hesitation in her voice. "Yes, I suppose I could do that." "Where would you like to meet?" "There is a fine restaurant called Rockendorf's. We could meet there." "Thank you." "Eight-thirty?" "Eight-thirty." Diane replaced the receiver, smiling.
Tanner turned to Andrew. "I've decided to do what I should have done in the first place. I'm calling Greg Holliday to handle the matter. He's never failed me." He looked at Andrew.
"He has an inflated ego. He charges an arm and a leg, but"-he smiled thinly-"he'll deliver an arm and a leg."
