Hearing a sound above me I opened my eyes and recognized much too late that the sound had been the hammer on a snub-nosed thirty-eight-caliber Smith & Wesson being thumbed back. The nice thirty-eight with the J-frame and rubberized grip I had seen in the glove box of Jacobs’s Buick. Only now it was in his hand. I never forget a gun. Especially when it’s pointed at my face.

“Lean back from the desk,” he said quietly. “And put your hands on your head. Do it slowly. This thirty-eight has a very light action and might easily go off if your hand goes within three feet of that Mauser. I saw your footprints in the snow. Just like Good King Wenceslas. You should have been more careful.”

I sat back in the chair and placed my hands on my head, watching the black hole of the two-inch barrel as it got closer. We both knew I was a dead man if he pulled the trigger. A thirty-eight provides a human skull with a lot of surplus ventilation.

“If I had more time,” he said, “I might be real curious as to how you got yourself out of Vienna as quickly as you did. Impressive. Then again, I told Eric not to let you have the money. You used it to get out of the city, right?” He leaned forward, carefully, and picked up my gun.

“As a matter of fact, I still have the money,” I said.

“Oh? Where is it?” He eased the hammer off my automatic and tucked it under his trouser belt.

“About forty miles from here,” I said. “We could go and get it, if you like.”

“And I could pistol-whip it out of you, Gunther. Luckily for you, I’m rather pressed for time.”

“Catching a plane?”

“That’s right. Now hand over those passports.”

“What passports?”

“If I have to ask a second time, you’ll lose the ear. And don’t delude yourself that anyone will hear the shot and give a shit. Not with that skeet range around the corner.”

“Good point,” I said. “Can I use my hand to get them? They’re in my coat pocket. Or would you prefer I tried for them with my teeth?”

“Forefinger and thumb only.” He took a step back, grabbing hold of his wrist, and extended the hand holding the gun at my head. Like he was getting ready to fire. At the same time his keen eyes glanced down at the open file I had been reading. I said nothing about the file. There was no point in putting him on guard any more than he already was. I lifted the passports out of my pocket and tossed them on top of the file.

“What’s that you’re reading?” He took the passports and then the tickets and pocketed them in his own short leather coat.