When Tertia had finished unpacking in her room at the Sonnenhut Inn, she went out to the indoor corridor that led past sauna rooms and massage parlors to the lobby.
The lights were on as dusk deepened over the finely manicured woods that embraced the lodge. She crossed to the viewing deck archway, through the vestibule, and out onto the heated deck where the after-dinner coffee and brandies were being drank by parka'd men and fur-coated women.
Tertia sought a quiet corner and found it near a potted dwarf pine and a string of blue and white fairy lights. Below her the moderate and expert trails shone like vanilla frosting in the rising moon.
She took out her cell phone and tapped a contact icon.
"Still sober are you?" she said in a gay tone. "Is Izzy treating you right? Well, she just better. Hm?... It's going great. He's hot or cold, depending on the situation... Oh my god, yes! That dong of his, he's like Babe Ruth swinging a bat! We spend more time on the floor than on the bed, ha! But he knows his business... Nothing to worry about... Oh for sure the plan's to make it look like an accident on the slopes. Drake will think I'll try the extreme trail... Sure, I'd like to, but Sanguineus thinks I shouldn't be so accommodating and do the expert or moderate run... Yeah, he's going out later tonight to rough up some guy who we think has supplied Drake with some kind of thingybob to do me in, ha... I will, and you too... No, no, you just butt out and let the pro take care of it... I think so, too. A disguise. Haven't seen him, but we just got here a half-hour ago. Had dinner in Gipfelhaus... I'm instructed to socialize when San goes back down to confront this old watchmaker person. He doesn't want me to stay in my room. I'm to be around people until he gets back... Well, look, gotta go. You take care... Huh, that'll be the day. Bye, love. "
Sanguineus came up beside her. "It will snow in a few hours," he said. "Nice new powder for the slopes. Who were you talking to?"
"My boyfriend. In Geneva. Don't worry. He knows nothing about this. Sure you don't want to take me with you? I have a watch that needs fixing. A family heirloom."
"You hang in the bar while I'm gone. Look for LeCourt."
"I've never met him. Just seen pictures. And those aren't very recent. Do you think he'll make himself look older?"
"He can't hardly make himself look younger. I'm hoping Iceman will see me leave and follow. Let's get a drink in the bar. We need to be seen together."
A fire was roaring in the big fireplace. It was the beginning of the season and there was a festive atmosphere in the lounge bar, a young crowd mostly, with a sprinkling of old timers.
Sanguineus and Tertia sat at a table near the small dance floor. In a corner a band in Tyrolean costume was playing German folk songs, the singer a brash blonde with a bosom.
The bartendress was a Scottish woman with a slightly Southern US accent. She smiled at Sanguineus, who held up seven fingers. This indicated the drink number on the plastic list laminated on the table.
"I don't see anyone resembling Drake," Tertia said. "Maybe that guy in the flight jacket talking to the redhead. What do you think?"
Sanguineus lit a cheroot, handing his pack of Sultans to her and glancing at the couple in question. They were leaning against the back of a couch, one in a semi-circle of couches near the fireplace. The young man in the flight jacket was the right height and had dark blondish hair.
"Something like him, but he has a moustache," said Sanguineus, "and no dimple in his chin."
"Can you be sure? He has a two day growth of whiskers to hide it, maybe. Hm?"
"Maybe. But the girl looks familiar. Get a picture of her if you can."
Tertia laughed out smoke as the drinks came. "Familiar? Small world if she's someone you know!" She put her cell phone on the table. "Who do you think she might be? I'm jealous, you know. Reassure me. She was lousy in bed, right?"
Sanguineus took a sip of his vodka tonic. "Isabel Montoya. A redhead from the Pyrenees, Spanish side. Looks a lot like her. Mid thirties, bisexual, equestrian professional, deadly with a lariat. Not unlike you in some ways. She wanted her horse trainer killed. Our operative got sick shortly after he was given the assignment. I was sent in to take his place. No, I didn't bed her. She was not quite my type."
Tertia lowered her voice, leaning in close to him. "How did you kill the horse trainer? And why did she want him dead?"
"That's confidential. The better question is why is she here, if that's her? I don't like coincidence. I smell a rat."
"Well, has she recognized you? You're not in disguise, are you? Are you actually a baldheaded Negro?"
"A pigmy. Look, you stay here and flirt with whoever comes around. I'm going to try to ID that girl."
Sanguineus walked leisurely over to the fireplace and pretended to be interested in the figurines on the mantlepiece. He could feel the redhead's eyes on him, and that of the young man's. He was attuned to his sensations. It might have been quite innocent, but the attention he was getting from them stirred his instincts for self-preservation.
"Pardon me," said a woman's voice. He turned and was not surprised to see the attractive redhead addressing him. "Could you spare one of those little cigars? They don't sell them in the smoke shop here."
"They're quite strong," he said, taking out the pack.
"I'm a strong lady," she replied with arched brows. The idiosyncratic look reminded him of that night in the stables when he tossed the kerosene lantern into the hay where the body of the horse trainer lay, bound with hemp rope, a gag over his mouth. The arched brows... and the moist red smile that wanted to be kissed at the moment the flames engulfed the trainer. But there had been no time for that.
"Yes, I remember your strength," Sanguineus said in a low voice, holding out his lighter for her. "You could ride a horse to death. Who's your companion?"
"Just someone I met ten minutes ago. Ford Edmund. I told him he had his name backwards. Didn't I?" she said to the young man who had stepped up to them with a curious expression. "Didn't I say you had your name backwards?" She blew smoke over the short man's head.
"And I said you were an Irish lass with a Spanish name," Edmund said. He gave Sanguineus a critical look. "So, do you think Sonnenhut deserves its top rated status? Is it better than La Grave?"
"Anything's better than the grave," Sanguineus said in an irritated tone.
Edmund smiled smugly. "I expect so. And your name--?"
"It's not for sale. If you'll excuse me." He went back to the table with his drink.
Tertia was smiling broadly. "Well? Is it her?"
"Yes. Let's take a walk."
Outside they walked along the promenade toward the gondolas. The night sky had clouded over. The first tiny flecks of snow were falling. They stood under the roof of the lift's boarding area and watched the couples and groups out in the wooded grounds.
"I think the young man is indeed your brother," Sanguineus said.
"That's good enough for me. What about the coincidence?"
"Isabel says she met him a few minutes before we came in. But my gut tells me she's lying."
"She likes you. I could tell. Does that make a difference?"
"I didn't get to know her all that well. I can't imagine that she knows what LeCourt is up to. I can't imagine he'd tell her. But I can't swallow the idea that her being here with him is just a coincidence. He brought her. But why? To complete his disguise? What are the odds that he would meet and invite a girl who was a client of mine a year ago? Astronomical."
"You said she was deadly, with a lariat," Tertia remarked. "Why do you think that?"
"She can lasso a rabbit while riding horseback. I'd call that pretty deadly. She's like you, in that she has no sympathy for humanity."
"Thank you very much. What are you going to do about her?"
"Find her a good woman. But first I have to visit Weizel. You go back in the bar. I'll escort you in, hoping Iceman is there and will want to know where I'm off to. Watch to see if anyone follows me. If someone does, wait five minutes and then phone me with a description of him."
"Yes, sir," she said in a lively manner, putting her arm through his, pressing herself against him. "How romantic this is. And to think, you get paid for doing this."
"Not nearly enough."
Sanguineus had been in the Land Rover for less than five minutes, going down the winding highway, when his phone buzzed.
"A man went out to the deck just after you left. About six feet tall. Ugly. Flat nose, broken, I guess. I mosied out there and took a pic of him. I don't think he noticed. He was talking on his cell. You think he called the watchmaker?"
"Probably. You stay in the bar until I get back or I'll make you wish you did."
"Ha! What can you do to me that you haven't already done?"
"You'd be surprised. Are Isabel and LeCourt still together?"
"They're dancing. I caught her looking at me. But the guy ignores me. Suspicious kind of, right?"
"Uh huh." He put the phone back in his jacket pocket.
In his rearview mirror he saw the headlights of a vehicle larger than a car, but not big enough to be a supply truck.
Johann Weizel locked all the doors and windows of the warehouse. He chose a 30.06 shotgun with a sawed off barrel and went into his private quarters. Its windows faced the narrow road that passed between his building and the cheese factory.
"What is your plan, Humbert? We can put his body in the basement incinerator." Johann was peeping out a window, the phone to his ear.
"Fool! Shut the fuck up! Sit there. I will solve this my way."
Johann scowled at the phone.
He went over to his desk and sat staring at the row of pocket watches on the shelf above it. His heart was pounding in sync with the cuckoo clock on the wall between the draped windows.
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