"She lives with her mother in Berlin," Hausen said. "I'll have her watched, but Gerard is elusive as well as powerful. He can bribe his way to people who disapprove of my work." He shook his head. "Had I yelled for the police that night, held Gerard, done something, I might have known peace over the years. But I didn't. And there was no way I could atone other than to fight the hatred that had driven Gerard to kill those girls."

Hood said, "You had no contact with Gerard, but did you hear anything about him over the years?"

"No," said Hausen. "He vanished, just like your Nancy. There were rumors that he had gone into business with his father, but when the old man died Gerard closed down the airbus parts factory that had been so profitable for so many years. He was rumored to have become the power behind many executive boards without ever being on any, but I don't know that for a fact."

Hood had other questions for the man, questions about the elder Dupre's business, about the identities of the girls, and about what Op-Center could do to help Hausen with what was shaping up as a serious case of blackmail. But his attention was snatched away by a soft voice that called him from behind.

"Paul!"

Hood turned, and the glow of Hamburg seemed to dim. Hausen and the trees and the city and the years themselves disappeared as the tall, slender, graceful angel walked toward him. As he found himself once again standing in front of a movie theater, waiting for Nancy.

Waiting for the girl who finally had arrived.

CHAPTER THIRTY

Thursday, 4:22 P.M.,

Hanover, Germany

Bob Herbert had not phoned Mike Rodgers when he first saw the white van.

It had appeared in his rearview mirror while he drove around the city, trying to figure out what to do. He'd paid little attention to the vehicle as he tried to come up with some way of getting information about the kidnapped girl. Though the straightforward approach had failed, he'd been thinking that bribery might work.

When Herbert turned off Herrenhauser Strasse onto a side street and the van turned as well, he gave it a second look. In the front and back of the van were faces wearing ski masks. Glancing at the map and speeding up, Herbert took a few sharp turns just to make sure the van was following him. It was. Someone must have watched him go and sent the goon platoon after him. As the city of Hanover darkened with the fast-falling night, Herbert phoned Op-Center. Alberto put him through to Mike Rodgers.

That was when Herbert asked for fast help or a short prayer.

"What's wrong?" Rodgers asked.

"I had a run-in with some neo-Nazi back at a beer house," Herbert said. "Now they're after my ass."

"Where are you?"