smiled. 'I guess I was just trying to remember why.'
The compact disc player automatically segued from Pat Metheny to some mellow, soulful blues by Carlos Santana. The dinner she had cooked for him had been exquisite, the wine was an excellent vintage white Margaux, and there was something very tantalising about the subtle scent of her perfume. This woman was trouble, Hunter thought, but it was the kind of trouble a man usually walked into with both eyes wide open.
Her name was Krista and they had met at a party hosted by Domenico Manelli, a man who described himself as an investor and a financier. He did invest quite heavily, hut not all of his investments were in blue chip stocks. He also dealt in some commodities that did not appear on the big board. And as for being a financier, well, he did finance certain politicians, a few judges, several entertainers, and a battery of lawyers.
It hadn't taken Hunter very long to figure out that Krista was on Domenico
Manelli's payroll. She undoubtedly did not think of herself as a hooker, Hunter thought, because there was a world of difference between Krista and a common prostitute. She was much more than an exclusive call girl, too. Men did not call Krista and pay her exorbitantly for her favours. Few men would have been able to afford the price, either financially or psychologically. Besides, she couldn't be bought that way. No, Krista was a much more interesting creature. She was a weapon that Domenico Manelli used with careful judgement and restraint. And a weapon like Krista was worth an entire ream of intelligence agents, Hunter thought.
The fact that Krista had approached him meant that Manelli had become interested in him and Hunter had been trying to decide how to react to that. He didn't quite know what to make of Domenico Manelli. In some ways, the man was astonishingly obvious, while in others he was as complex and devious as a Medici prince.
He had taken the twofold path, as all really smart criminals did, establishing himself as a solid, taxpaying citizen with a wide variety of legitimate business interests and community activities while at the same time cleverly furthering his illegal operations, which had provided the seed capital for him to become a respected pillar of the community to begin with.
Manelli functioned on the principle that it was never very smart to become too visibly successful, but that if one did, the thing to do was to create an economic smokescreen. The moment the money became significant-and at the same time, inconveniently inexplicable-he invested it. He invested it legitimately in a manner that allowed for a reasonable return that could then be used to grease the wheels.
He used the dirty money to create clean funds that were then used for paying taxes, contributing to various charities and political campaigns, supporting popular causes, starting businesses, creating jobs.. in other words, buying his way to indispensability to as many people as possible.
In the meantime, he erected barriers between himself and the criminal activities that had financed the whole thing to begin with. He carefully selected subordinates who did not appear to be subordinates and who could be trusted to keep their mouths shut and take the fall if it became necessary, knowing they'd be taken care of for their loyalty. And along the way, the campaign contributions and the community activity gave him access to important people and allowed him to determine which ones to stay away from, which ones could be manipulated, and which ones could be bought outright.
Hunter's instincts told him to stay away. Getting involved with a man like Manelli could be dangerous, but then if he had wanted to play it safe, he would never have joined the C.I.S. in the first place. The trouble was, Hunter was having a hard time deciding what to do. The odds against his stumbling upon a confluence point all on his own were astronomical, not even worth considering seriously. The odds of his finding a way to contact the Underground were somewhat better, but he had no idea where to start or even if it was what he really wanted to do.
If his goal was to create a significant disruption in this timeline, then the
Underground was an ideal place for him to be. He could convince them that he'd deserted from the Temporal Army and infiltrate their organisation, using their contacts and their information to achieve his ends, although they'd kill him if they suspected what his plans were. Only were those still his plans?
Why not simply accept things as they were? He was trapped in this universe and chances were that he'd never find his way back home. But then, why should he even try? The life he had created for himself here was infinitely better than the one he had as an agent for the C.I.S. Why fight it? Back home, he never would have dared to try anything like what he had accomplished here. Even if the idea had occurred to him, he'd have resisted partly out of fear of getting caught and partly out of concern that he might somehow disrupt the timestream. Here, what did it matter? It made no difference what he did here, there would always be the fear of getting caught, so why not make the most of his opportunities? And if he did do something that created a disruption further up the timeline, then it would not affect him here and he'd be doing no more than his duty. The warp disc was his protection. He could always escape further into the past, The temptation to do exactly as his twin in this timeline had done and simply opt out was tremendous and Hunter was seeing less and less reason to resist it. The last thing he needed was to bother with someone like Manelli.
The problem was, Manelli was bothering with him. Hunter did not flatter himself that Krista had been coming on to him simply because he was so undeniably attractive, He'd been playing cat and mouse with her, knowing that she was subtly trying to draw him out and pump him, while at the same time he was purposely obscure about his background and tried to do the same to her, about both herself and her relationship with Domenico Manelli and his crowd. Prudence would have dictated that he break it off, but Hunter found himself unable to resist her and they had reached an impasse where both of them fully understood the game that they were playing, though neither would admit it to the other. They were both getting a perverse enjoyment out of it, though Krista was starting to exhibit some signs of frustration.
'I sometimes have the feeling that you're not really who you seem to be at all,' she said, taking a gold cigarette case out of her purse. 'It's almost as it you're playing a role.'
With playful mockery, she took two cigarettes from the case and stuck them both between her lips, then handed him her Dunhill lighter. Hunter grinned and lit the cigarettes for her. She took a drag or two to get them going, then took one from her mouth and reached forward to place it between his lips. If she had done so seriously, it would have been extremely
comical, but with her slightly exaggerated humour playing on the role reversal, she somehow made it very sexy.
He took a deep drag on the cigarette and leaned back in his chair. 'Everyone plays roles,' he said. 'Mine just happens to be a bit more subtle than most people's. I don't really believe in going around baring your breast to everyone you meet, that's all. People who do that are insecure.'
“You're definitely not insecure,' she said, smiling. “Most men would go to a great deal of trouble to impress a woman. But you're not like that. You seem very comfortable with yourself. No need to prove a thing.'
Hunter shrugged. 'It takes too damn much energy to run around always trying to prove things to yourself and other people. I haven't really got anything to prove.
But maybe that's because I don't have much imagination. I'm just an ordinary guy.'
She shook her head. 'I wouldn't say that at all. You're the most elusive man I've ever met. You really don't reveal very much at all, do you?'
'Well, I thought they said that a little mystery was supposed to add a bit of spice to a relationship.'
'Is that what we're doing?' she said, arching her eyebrows.
'Having a relationship?'.
'I don't really know,' said Hunter, loosening his collar slightly. It was getting warm. 'What are we doing? You invite me up here, cook me a world class meal and ply me with vintage wine in an atmosphere of mellow, romantic jazz, soft lighting, a dazzling view-both through the window and the tabletop..' he grinned.
'One would almost think that you were setting a trap for me. '
She smiled. 'You're absolutely right. I confess. It is a trap.' 'Ha! I knew it all the time! The wine was drugged!'
She pursed her lips and watched him over the rim of her wineglass. 'No, not the wine,' she said, softly.
He suddenly felt dizzy as he stared at her, his vision blurred. She took her cigarette, which after the initial puff to get it going, she hadn't smoked at all, and stubbed it out in the ashtray.
The cigarettes!
He lurched to his feet and the room started to spin. She got up quickly and backed away. He grabbed the table for support and abruptly lost his balance, bringing the glass-topped table crashing to the floor.
It shattered and he fell in a spray of glass. He heard a door open and footsteps come across the floor. He
