“I’ve taken an interest in the case, yes, but this isn’t just another day in the office for me. Something is going on here, and I—”

“Listen.” He held up a hand to cut her off. “You don’t have anything to worry about. There are strong indications that Anna Kiel isn’t even in Denmark at the moment.”

“I’m well aware of that,” Heloise Kaldan said, standing up. “Only a week and a half ago she was in France, but I am telling you: she is here now.”

That stopped Schäfer dead in his tracks.

He watched Heloise Kaldan in silence as she walked over to a black shoulder bag hanging on a hook next to her refrigerator and pulled something out of it.

“I’m not seeing ghosts.” She came over to him and handed him two light-blue envelopes. “Anna Kiel is trying to tell me something.”

CHAPTER

9

ANNA HAD TO wait a long time before she heard his voice over the phone. She had managed to find one of the few old-time phone booths that still remained in Dijon. Most of the others had been decommissioned a long time ago and replaced with, well, nothing. All over the city were empty, ugly street corners with withered wires, cut off and sticking out of the concrete like ghastly artworks from a bygone era.

“Nick?”

“Yes.”

“It’s me.”

“Yeah, I figured. No one else calls me.”

“I’ve moved on. North. I think someone saw me.”

“Someone saw you? Who, him?” He sounded concerned.

“No, some woman. It’s probably nothing, but I couldn’t stay there any longer.”

“Anna, if you see him—or anyone who even looks like him—you get the hell out of Dodge, you’ve got that?”

“Yes.”

“I’m serious. He won’t hesitate for a second to kill you. You have no idea how dangerous that man is.”

“Yes, Nick, I do.” Her tone was icy. “Maybe even better than you, so quit talking to me as if it’s your job to take care of me. I’m not your daughter.”

There was a pause before he cautiously asked, “So what else is new? Did you send the letter?”

“I’ve sent two.”

“Okay, good. Good.”

“You promised me the information about the hotel?”

“Yes. It’s a place called the Grand Hyatt Martinez. It’s in Cannes.”

“When does he stay there?”

“The first three weeks of June. It’s the same every year.”

“Alone?”

“In principle, yes. He travels alone, but I don’t know whether or not he sees anyone while he’s there …”

An uncomfortable silence arose between them.

“And the files?” Anna asked.

“You’ll get the rest of yours once I have mine,” he said. “Just make sure to get Heloise to Paris.”

“Hey, Nick?”

“Yes?”

“How’s your conscience?”

He laughed, a sad, hollow laughter.

“Not so good,” he admitted. “How about yours?”