"Your beloved uncle is the worst scum that a mother ever dropped." Pitt's voice was tired. He didn't want to hurt her, but he was certain she was lying. "God only knows how many rotting corpses owe their present condition to him; hundreds, thousands more likely. And you're in it with him right up to your lovely little neck. Every rotten dollar you've spent in the last twenty years was soaked in blood. In some cases with the blood of, and yes tears, especially tears, of innocent children. Young girls who were stolen from their parents' arms and who finished their adolescence on a filthy, lice-ridden pile of straw in a North African whorehouse."

She jumped to her feet. "Things like that don't happen anymore. You're lying, you're lying, you're making this up." She was scared now, but playing a magnificent scene, Pitt thought. "I told you the truth. I know nothing. Nothing!"

"Nothing? You knew von Till was planning to murder me at the villa. Your tearful little act on the terrace, I admit, had me fooled. But not for long. You missed your calling—you should have been an actress."

"I didn't know." Her voice was low and desperate. "I swear I didn't—"

Pitt shook his head. "I can't buy it. You gave yourself away outside the labyrinth when we were arrested by the tourist guide. You weren't just surprised to see me, you were goddamned shocked to see me in one piece."

She came over and knelt beside him and held his hands in hers. "Please, please…Oh God! What must I do to make you believe me?"

"You might begin by offering me facts." He raised up from the chair and stood directly over her. Then he tore the soggy bandages from his chest and dropped them in her lap. "Look at me. This is what I got for accepting your invitation to dinner. I was set up as the main course for your uncle's man-eating dog. Look at me!"

She looked. "I think I'm going to be sick."

Pitt ached to take her in his arms and kiss away the tears that welled in her eyes, and to softly, gently tell her how sorry he was. Instead, he fought to keep his voice firm and even.

She turned and gazed blankly at the metal sink in the head, wondering if she were going to be sick or not, then she forced her tear-brimmed eyes back on Pitt and spoke in a whisper. "You're a devil. You talk about Uncle Bruno. You're worse, much worse. I wish you would have been killed."

The hate should have been there, but Pitt could only feel a touch of sadness. "Until I say otherwise you'll remain on this ship."

"You can't keep me here, you have no right."