assistant, and GeorgeSherborn who was his private secretary and valet.
But Shalik soon found that his assignments became more complicated and therefore more lucrative, he needed a woman in the field to be permanently at his disposal: a woman who had to be trained to work with and for him: a woman of exceptional talents and exceptional looks. Such a woman could be more useful to him than a dozen male experts. During the past years, he had hired a number of women to work with his experts, but more often than not they had failed him: either losing their nerve at a crucial moment or becoming sentimentally attached to the men they were working with, and this was something Shalik abominated.
So he set out to find a woman he could train to become his ideal woman operator. She had to be beautiful, perfectly built, talented and to be prepared to dedicate herself to his work.
Shalik travelled extensively, and while visiting the major cities of the world, he was constantly on the look-out for the woman he needed. He came across several likely applicants, but when he approached them, they either would have nothing to do with his proposition or proved to be beautiful but brainless. After some six months, he began to despair, wondering if he had set his sights too high.
Then one day he had a letter from one of his rich, spoilt women clients, living in Tokyo, who asked him to buy her a leopard skin coat, a mink stole and a broadtail coat for evening wear. He was to get these furs from Finn Larson, a Copenhagen furrier who had her measurements and knew exactly what she required. Since the woman paid Shalik $21,000, a year as a retaining fee and since he charged fifteen per cent on all purchases made on her behalf and since he was in need of a brief vacation, he was happy to oblige.
Natalie Norman telephoned Finn Larson in Copenhagen to alert him that Shalik was coming and what he wanted. She was told that there was to be a lunch held at L'Angleterre Hotel for a number of Larson's special clients when models would display his furs and the clients would eat interesting Danish food, Larson hoped Mr. Shalik would attend.
Shalik arrived at the hotel the following day and went to theprivate room that Larson used for his excellent lunches and was welcomed by Larson, a balding, heavily-built Dane who gripped his hand and led him to a table before hurrying away to welcome yet another of his clients.
While Shalik was eating his lunch, girls came in to display Larson's beautiful furs.
Then suddenly, as a girl swept in, wearing a magnificent leopard skin coat, Shalik paused in his eating. After six months of searching, this was his moment of truth. He was certain this time this was the girl he was looking for.
Above average height, with tawny hair, hanging in silken waves to her shoulder blades, this girl — possibly twenty-six or so years of age — was the most sensationally, sensually beautiful feminine creation he had ever seen. Her jade green eyes, her full lips that gave promise of sexual excitement, her long tapering legs, her slim lovely hands made a picture of a male dream of desirability.
Shalik lost interest in his lunch as he watched her move with the arrogant walk of a trained model to the end of the room. She turned and walked back past him. He scarcely glanced at the leopard skin coat. When she had gone, to be replaced by another girl, wearing a seal skin coat, Shalik beckoned to Larson who came over.
'I'll take the leopard skin coat,' Shalik said. 'It is for Mrs. Van Ryan.' He paused, then looked up and asked, 'Who is the girl who modelled the coat?'
Larson smiled.
'Almost as magnificent as my coat, don't you think? She is Gaye Desmond . . . An American freelance model who comes here from time to time. I use her for my leopard skins . . . no other girl has such flair to show off leopard.'
Shalik took out his wallet, extracted his card and handed it to Larson.
'Would you be so kind as to give her my card?' he asked. 'I believe I can employ her should she need employment. You might mention to her who I am.' Shalik regarded Larson. 'You know, Mr. Larson, I am always serious. This is strictly business. You will be doing the girl a favour.'
Larson, who knew Shalik, had no hesitation.
Later, while Shalik was sitting in his suite, reading a complicated legal document, the telephone bell rang.
He lifted the receiver.
'This is Gaye Desmond.' He liked her rich contralto voice. 'You sent me your card.'
'Thank you for ringing, Miss Desmond. I have a proposition I would like to discuss with you. Could we have dinner together at the Belle Terresse, Tivoli, at 21.00 hrs?'
She said yes, and hung up.
She arrived punctually which pleased Shalik, and together they went to a table on the terrace that overlooked the lighted pool and the flowers that make Tivoli famous.
'It is a pity we didn't meet in Paris, Miss Desmond,' Shalik said as he began to examine the menu. 'The food here is indifferent. In Paris I could have offered you a meal worthy of your beauty.'
She was wearing a simple blue dress with a mink stole. Diamonds glittered at her ears as she tossed her tawny coloured hair back from her shoulders.
