“Don’t tempt fate, Captain! Still, Cornucopia is safe now, and in excellent hands,” Sykes said.
He escorted Carmine to the elevators and saw him leave, then returned to his office and sat for a moment drinking in the sight of his new goodies. Inside his desk drawer was a powerful magnifying glass with a battery- operated light; Sykes switched it on and stared through it, his blue eye huge, its white shot with scarlet veins. Murat was close to hand; he lifted the figure and turned it over, looking for any impairment, any sign that Murat had been maimed. Then he sighed, smiled, and produced a dissecting needle. It went under the edge of the satchel Murat wore and pried a section of the paint away.
“Shostakovich will be pleased,” he said.
Colleen McCullough
