Blind Alley

sketch. No report on the fingerprints either. They sent them out to Interpol. I'll let you know when I hear something.”

“You'd better.”

“How's Jane?”

“Restless, impatient. A hell of a lot better than Eve and me. She doesn't like being cooped up.”

“That sounds like Jane.” Christy chuckled. “But she's not dumb, Joe. She's not going to do anything foolish.”

“What she considers foolish may not be what I consider foolish. She won't stay in the cottage. She says that having a police escort constantly on her heels is enough of a hassle without being made a total prisoner.”

“A visible police guard is usually an effective deterrent, Joe.”

“Usually.” He went to the window and watched Jane as she strolled down the lake path. Mac and Brian were several yards behind her but in clear sight and Toby was gamboling beside her. “I don't like to count on it. Get back to me the minute you hear anything.”

“Any news?” Eve asked as he hung up the phone.

“Volcanic ash. No location determined.” He turned to face her. “Nothing on Trevor.”

“Dammit.” She joined him at the window. “What's the use of all this technology if they can't pull up information when you need it?”

“Trevor impressed me as being very smart. He may not have any criminal record.”

“Yes, he's smart. But he tipped his hand with us. And if he made one mistake, then he could have made others.” She frowned. “And no one is an island in this day and age. What about the fingerprints? Even if he doesn't have a criminal record, he must have gone to school, gotten a driver's license. Something . . .”

“We're checking.” He slipped his arm around her waist, his gaze on Jane, who had just sat down on a log beside the lake. “It's only a matter of time.”

He should be in hiding, Aldo thought. It was daylight and there might be more policemen than the two following the girl combing the woods. Screw it. He'd go to ground soon but he'd take this moment. It was the first time he'd been able to see her clearly.

He gazed hungrily at the girl sitting on the log across the lake. She appeared totally unafraid and was truly exquisite. So confident in her youth and power. The young always thought they were immortal, but she should know better. Had she no memory?

She must remember. She was just displaying her usual arrogance. She wouldn't admit to fear because she'd look upon it as a defeat.

But she'd admit it soon. She'd look into his eyes and he'd see the terror.

It was only a matter of time.

Was he out there?

Jane stared at the woods across the lake. She couldn't see anything, but she felt . . . something. It was weird to think of a man stalking you, wanting to kill you for no reason other than that he didn't like your face. It was crazy and she should be more afraid.

She felt more than just fear. She was filled with curiosity and excitement and anger. The idea of prey and hunter intrigued her. What would he do if she became the stalker? If she tried to turn the tables on that creep?

Not that she'd do anything like that, she thought regretfully. Eve and Joe would have a cow and there was no way she'd worry them. Eve was already too concerned about her after their talk last night. She'd understood Jane more than anyone else would have but in spite of her saying she had no right to judge, it had still troubled her. No, she wouldn't willingly cause Eve any more worry.

But the key word was willingly. It wouldn't be her fault if she was drawn into the whirlpool Aldo was stirring. And she couldn't be expected not to fight back, could she?

Jane picked up a rock and sent it skimming over the surface of the lake.

Did you see that? Are you watching, Aldo?

Yes, he was watching. She could feel it. He was close and getting closer. She would be forced to confront him soon.

It was only a matter of time.

We've got a report on Mark Trevor,” Christy said when she called that night. “Interpol came through.”

Joe signaled Eve to pick up the extension. “Criminal record?”

“Not exactly.”

“What do you mean ‘not exactly'? He has a record or he doesn't.”

“He was on their watch list because of casino activity in Monte Carlo. Among other talents, he's a superb card counter. He took several casinos on the Riviera to the cleaners before they caught on to what he was doing and banned him. Since card counting is a talent and not a criminal activity they couldn't charge him, but the local police wanted to keep their eye on him. There was every chance one of the casinos would take a contract out on him.”

“No other charges?”

“Not so far as we can find out. But he must have forged identity documents as he moved from country to country. The name he used in Monte Carlo was Hugh Trent.”

“A British citizen?”

“No, the Brits can't believe they wouldn't have been able to find some record in their computers. They're very frustrated because they regard it as an insult to their professionalism.”

“He sounded British.”

“The casino in Monte Carlo thought he was French. The one in Germany was sure he was German. He evidently speaks several languages fluently. Every report indicates that he appeared to be well educated, brilliant, and slick as glass.”

“And he doesn't have any history of violence?”

“I didn't say that. When the Zurich casino was looking for Trevor to squeeze some of their money out of him, they ran across one of his contacts, Jack Cornell, who said he fought with him when he was a mercenary in Colombia. That was over ten years ago and Trevor wasn't much more than a kid, but he was one lethal son of a bitch.”

“And still may be. The military can be a great training ground.”

“You should know. You were in the SEALs, weren't you?”

“Yes.” He paused. “And, kid or not, he could well have been seduced by the dark side.”

“Dark side? Come on. You sound like something out of Star Wars.”

“Do I? The phrase struck a note when I first heard it. Violence can be addictive if you don't pull yourself away fast.”

“Maybe he did. Card counting is a mental exercise.”

“But very dangerous if you do it on the scale Trevor was playing. Like walking a tightrope. Serial killers get off on taking chances too. Did they find out anything on a personal level from Cornell?”

“Not much. Cornell said that Trevor was quiet and never talked about himself. He was always reading or playing with those Rubik-type puzzles. He was a whiz at that kind of stuff. But once he did mention being in Johannesburg.”

“At last, something concrete. And did Interpol follow up on it?”

“Negative. There wasn't any reason. No crime and Trevor had disappeared from their radar scope. They have enough to do without borrowing trouble.”

“Well, he's back on the scope with a vengeance now.”

“And they're sending out feelers, but we may not get lucky anytime soon. I'll send you a copy of the fax I received from Scotland Yard and I'll let you know if we get anything else.” She hung up.

“It's not much.” Eve replaced the receiver. “They don't even know his nationality.”

“It's more than we knew before.”