Huber frowned. “Why don’t you say that a little louder? I’m not sure the Onyx ground station in the Valais was able to hear you.”

Müller made no reply.

“You do have one thing working in your favor,” Huber said. “The DAP and the Federal Police are going to be extremely reluctant to open a potentially embarrassing probe at a time like this, especially one involving a man as beloved as your owner. Martin is the patron saint of Switzerland. And you can be sure that his friends in the government will think twice about doing anything that tarnishes his reputation. Martin is good for the country.”

“But?”

“There’s always the potential it will leak to the press the way the Egyptian fax did. If that happens…” Huber paused. “As you know, these things have a way of taking on a life of their own.”

“Zentrum will be most grateful if you can keep this matter out of the press, Karl.”

“How grateful?”

“The money will be transferred first thing Monday morning.”

Huber closed the laptop. “There’s one other thing to keep in mind. Whoever did this is extremely good. And they had help.”

“What kind of help?”

“Someone on the inside. Someone with access to Martin’s phone and computer. If I were you, I’d start putting together a list of possible suspects. And then I’d handcuff each one to a radiator and find out who’s responsible.”

“Thank you for the advice, Karl, but we prefer subtler methods.”

Huber gave a sardonic smile. “Try telling that to Rafael Bloch.”

ULRICH MÜLLER headed back to the center of Zurich at considerable speed, turning over the implications of what he had just been told. Someone on the inside…Someone with access to Martin’s phone and computer…While it was possible Martin had been betrayed by an employee, Müller considered it highly unlikely since all GVI staff were subjected to rigorous background checks and regular security reviews. Müller suspected the traitor was someone much closer to Martin. Someone who was sharing Martin’s bed on a regular basis.

He parked in the Kasernenstrasse and headed upstairs. A Kellergruppe operative tried to give Müller an update on the Berlin and Mexico City operations; Müller brushed past without a word and entered his office. His computer was powered on. He hesitated for a few seconds, then called up the guest list for that evening’s One World fund-raiser at Villa Elma. The overt side of Zentrum had done a cursory security check on all three hundred of the invitees. Near the bottom of the list, Müller found the name he was looking for. He snatched up his phone and started to dial the number for Martin’s mobile. Realizing his mistake, he hung up and dialed Jonas Brunner instead. Brunner answered after three rings, his voice a whisper.

“Where are you?” Müller asked.

“In the ballroom.”