Seth nodded.

“Okay, then,” Seth said as he stood up. “Rock ‘n’ roll!”

TWENTY-NINE

The Bahnhofstrasse was as crowded as ever. The Mercedeses were jammed hood to trunk along the street. Limos were double-parked. Crowds of well-dressed Zurichers rushed past the window of the small restaurant, their arms bulging with packages. From a great distance, the sounds of carolers reached their cars. They were having trouble staying on key. Across the Bahnhofstrasse a Salvation Army van pulled to the curb and disgorged a quartet of soberly dressed men carrying musical instruments. They were accompanied by a woman who struggled with a tripod, making sure it was stable enough to support the donations pot that hung from it. Her bell slipped from her coat pocket and clanged loudly as it struck the sidewalk, rolling almost into the gutter before a passerby retrieved it. The group arranged itself just to the right of the entrance to the Thule Gesellschaft Bank.

In front, Stratton pulled the Volvo to the curb.

“Make sure you have some spare change,” Zoe said. “Or they’ll give us dirty looks when we go into the bank.”

“Yes, but they’ll probably give us one anyway if it’s not large enough,” Seth joked.

A young boy of eleven or twelve passed by selling newspapers, and Seth fixed his eyes on the paper’s bold headlines, FOUR DEAD IN APARTMENT BOMBING, read the biggest headline. Below that was a smaller story: LINK TO WAREHOUSE MURDERS?

Ridgeway held his breath. Would he find his own picture there? The paperboy and his papers moved out of his range of vision, leaving the question hanging.

He held on to the priceless package wrapped in brown kraft paper and string.

“What are your instructions, again?” Stratton quizzed them.

“To present this to the clerk inside.”

“Remember, if the painting really is the key to a box at that bank, it’s illegal. The only reason they’ll give you access is because the arrangements were set up before the banking laws outlawed anonymous accounts.”

Seth was suddenly worried. “Are you saying they won’t honor the painting as proof of access to the box?”

Stratton shook his head. “No. The Swiss are nothing if not reliable. But they won’t act if things look suspicious. Just go in there as if you own the place. Act a bit like an arrogant rich—very rich—American. They expect that, even prefer it. They won’t risk offending you.”

“Right,” Seth said. Then to Zoe: “You ready?” She nodded reluctantly.

“You’ll wait here, then?” Seth asked Stratton.

“Here, or maybe close by,” Stratton responded. “Since this isn’t a Mercedes limo, I’ll probably have to keep moving. If something… bad happens and I can’t hang around, there’s a parking garage on the Sihlstrasse.” He pointed. “Through the old town. I’ll park on the highest level.”

With that, Ridgeway and Zoe got out of the car. The Bahnhofstrasse was filled to overflowing with bright sunshine and crisp biting breezes.

“He makes me nervous,” Zoe said as they walked toward the door.