At Swords' Point Read Free

Stark would try to bring me into an army case. On the other hand if he were playing a lone hand at something and — “
    “Had a premonition of disaster he would?” van Norreys struck in. “Yes, that might be true. In his work a man comes to trust premonitions. One grows a sort of sixth sense which informs one when the end of the game is approaching. I have seen that happen — several times. I think that I now agree with you on both points — that this exploit he was mixed in was not connected with his regular work and that he had begun to feel the need for assistance. He must have been on the fringe of something big, bigger than he may have first thought it to be. Perhaps at first he had believed that he alone could handle it. He was, I remember, much given to playing the game alone — “
    “Yes. He may have gone in too deeply before he realized it. That was like him. But now I am going to learn why somebody knocked him down on a street with a name I can't even pronounce — “

    “You are sure he is dead? In his particular calling a man may die several different times — for a score of good and sufficient reasons.”
    Quinn shook his head. “I know that. But Washington has confirmed it this time — I had an interview with the head of his department.” His eyes shifted from van Norreys to the top of the desk between them. “This time it is true.”
    “You have thoughts of taking up where he left off then?” Van Norreys fanned cigarette smoke away from his eyes.
    “Yes.”
    “And have you considered the fact that your brother had had years of experience in such affairs and yet — “
    “Someone met him in Maastricht and may still be waiting there for me?” asked Quinn. “Certainly. I've thought of everything you can suggest along that angle. On the other hand I do have perfect cover, an excellent and true reason for traveling in that section. I have the advantage of knowing about it and its history.” Again he pointed to the knight.
    And, he longed to add, I am really appealing to you. But that seemed too presumptuous to tell a stranger.
    Van Norreys brought out a map of the Low Countries, the crackling of the stiff paper sounding loudly in the room as he unfolded it.
    “Maastricht.” His fingernail stabbed the paper. “And now just where was the old boundary of Sternsberg?”
    “Not ten miles away.” Quinn drew the line. “Odocar's Tower may almost be seen from the present border — “
    “And what happened to the Sternlitz family?”
    “The last duke lost his power after the Franco-Prussian War when the Duchy was absorbed by Belgium. I don't think that he cared very much. He was one of those nineteenth-century explorers — like Stanley and Livingstone and Burton — only his taste was forChina and the Gobi. The only reference to him that Dad was ever able to discover said that he is supposed to have been killed by natives sometime in the ’90s. He left no descendants and was the last male of the line.”
    “Which provides us with another neat little problem. To whom would the Bishop's Menie belong if it is ever found? The Nazis did not have it in their catchall at the salt mines — “
    The phone interrupted them with a single shrill ring. Van Norreys picked it up, listened for a moment, then drew to him a pad on which he made quick notes while the crackle of a voice on the other end of the line held steady.
    “Excellent piece of work, Sam. I am in your debt. Can you run up here in the morning? Since a cracked ankle bone retires me from the lists I shall have to call on you. Something ‘hot'? Yes, most certainly I can translate your crude speech. Hot — my dear fellow, this may prove sizzling! By ten then? That will be most acceptable. Good night.”
    He read over his notes, then for the first time since their meeting, he smiled at Quinn.
    “I may have good reason to be most grateful to you, Mr. Anders. This is not the first time that the House of Norreys has been consulted