and punched a number into the keyboard of an electronic lock.
The heavy glass door, discreetly barred with ornate wrought steel, clicked open. Von Graffenlaub ignored the elevator and led Fitzduane up two short flights of stairs. The stairs and second-floor entranceway were carpeted. Von Graffenlaub unlocked a second door, this time with a key. They entered a narrow but well-appointed hallway. Von Graffenlaub shut the door behind them. It closed with a sound that suggested more than wood in its construction.
Fitzduane found himself grabbed. With some slight difficulty he disentangled himself from a huge potted plant whose greenery was modeled on the tentacles of an octopus with thorns added. He was becoming quite annoyed with this Swiss obsession for growing rain forest undergrowth inside the home.
Von Graffenlaub showed him around the apartment with the detached professionalism of a real estate agent. Nonetheless, small actions and an ease of movement suggested he was very much at home.
The place was comfortable to the point of being luxurious, but the furnishings and decor were, for the most part, almost deliberately unostentatious. The one exception was the master bedroom, which featured a thick white carpet, a king-size bed with black silk sheets, and a mirror set into the ceiling over the bed.
'Homey,' said Fitzduane.
What must originally have been the dining room had been turned into a lavishly equipped study. Laden bookshelves filled one wall. Another wall was equipped for visual aids. There was a pull-down screen, a recessed television monitor, and a hessian-covered bulletin board on which maps and other papers could be retained by magnets. Maps of Bern and Switzerland were already in place. The furniture was modern and quietly expensive in its solidity and degree of finish. A conference table made a T shape with the desk. The stainless steel and black padded leather chairs were of the ergonomic design; they swiveled and tilted and were adjustable for height and lumbar support.
Full-height folding cabinet doors were pulled back to reveal a wall of state-of-the-art business communications equipment: there were several more television monitors, one of them for Reuthers Financial Services; there was a telex, a high-speed facsimile transfer, a powerful radio transceiver, dictating equipment, and a photocopier. A computer terminal sat docile on a mobile cart.
'Phones?' asked Fitzduane; there had to be something missing. Hew as reminded of a cartoon in The New Yorker: “Even in a think tank, Glebov, nobody likes a smart alec.”
Von Graffenlaub pressed a button on the underside of the desk. A recessed panel slid back, and with a whir of electric motors, a telephone console, complete with a plethora of ancillary equipment, slid into view. He pointed at one of the electronic boxes. 'It's fitted with a tape recorder,' he said.
'Naturally,' said Fitzduane politely.
They moved on to the kitchen. Cabinets, double-door refrigerator, and deep freeze groaned with food. In one walk-in pantry, bottles of red wine presented their bottoms in rack upon rack. This being Switzerland, the bottles had been dusted. 'The white wine is in the cellar,' said von Graffenlaub, 'which is also a nuclear shelter.'
Fitzduane almost started to laugh. He had been checking the labels on the red wine. Most of it was chateau- bottled and vintage. 'A nuclear shelter – there's no answer to that.'
'No, really,' said von Graffenlaub. 'Almost all houses in Switzerland have nuclear shelters – or easy access to one. This has been a building regulation for many years.'
The tour continued. The bathroom looked hygienic enough to stand in for an operating theater. Obviously a full scrub and mask and gown were required before one used the bidet. The toilet was fitted with an electronic flush mechanism. Fitzduane checked the toilet paper – soft and fluffy. Not a trick missed.
The living room was bright and airy. Double-glazed sliding doors led onto a veranda. A long L-shaped sofa of modern design dominated the floor. It was covered in the softest leather Fitzduane had ever felt on furniture. He sat down on the long arm and stretched out his legs in front of him. The leather felt sensuous against his body, warm to his hands.
Von Graffenlaub sat across from him in an arrangement of straps, pulleys, leather, and steel that only remotely resembled a chair but that the lawyer seemed to find comfortable. He placed a briefcase, which had been resting out of sight on the floor, on his knees, then spun its two combination locks. The latches sprang open with the well-machined sound of precision engineering.
'This is a special case,' he said. 'You have to wait thirty seconds after the latches are released before opening it – or all kinds of things happen. Tear gas, dye, a siren, spring-loaded extension arms shoot out. All quite nasty.'
'Whose apartment is this?' asked Fitzduane.
'Yours.'
Fitzduane raised an eyebrow. 'No shit.'
Von Graffenlaub laughed. It was a deep, rich sound, infectious in its appeal. He may have been portrayed as ruthless capitalist by Vreni, but Fitzduane was beginning to like the man – which was not the same as trusting him.
Erika von Graffenlaub drew up her knees and spread them. Her hands clutched at the sweat-dampened sheet. She waited, eyes for the moment closed, as his mouth and tongue came nearer the focus of her pleasure. She could feel the warmth of his breath first, then the faintest soft touch of his tongue on her clitoris. She waited, trying to lie absolutely motionless as slowly, every so slowly, the gentle caressing continued. Her breathing increased in tempo, but as the minutes passed she managed to remain almost without moving, occasional tremors the only outward sign of the passion soaring within her.
It was a game he had taught her. He liked to tease, to delay, to titillate, until sheer physical desire was so strong it could no longer be resisted but for an infinitely precious time was overwhelming, was all dominant, was the very stuff of life itself.
The pressure of his tongue was increasing slightly. Now he was into that rhythm that only he – and she – seemed to know. He cupped her breasts with his hands, the tips of his fingers caressing her protruding nipples. Suddenly she could lie still no longer. Her body arched and shook, and her thighs clamped his head to her. Her body vibrated, and her hands kneaded his arms and shoulders and then dug into the back of his neck, drawing him ever closer.
'Now!' she cried. 'Hurt me now!' His fingers tightened on her breasts and nipples, and there was pain, stark agony contrasting with the waves of pleasure that coursed through every atom of her body, that excited every nerve ending, every essence. She screamed as she came, but in absolute ecstasy, and she screamed again as he abandoned his subjugation between her loins and entered her with brutal force.
Later, when it was over, she sat cross-legged on the bed and stared at her image in the tinted mirror. She held her breasts in her hands and then felt them gently. They were bruised and sore, but in the afterglow of sex the feeling was almost a pleasure.
'I have been thinking about the Irishman,' she said.
'Don't worry,' said the man with the golden hair. 'Everything is under control.'
'No,' she said. 'Everything never is. It doesn't work that way.'
'Are you concerned?' he asked. He was standing in front of her. She thought that he looked beautiful, awesome, dangerous. She reached out and cupped his male organ in her hands. His testicles felt heavy. His penis was already beginning to grow tumescent again. She touched its tip with her tongue.
'No,' she said, 'but he's an attractive man. I'd like to fuck him before he dies.'
The man with the golden hair smiled. 'Dear little Erika,' he said, 'such a creature of love.'
She drew him into her mouth.
'I own this apartment,' said von Graffenlaub. 'It seems to me that your inquiries could well take some time, probably weeks, perhaps longer. You will need a place where you can talk to people in confidence, where you can plan and organize, where there is privacy. I am offering you this place for as long as is necessary. I think you will be more comfortable here than in your hotel, and you will have a better working base. I should add that there is a car
