The Property of a Lady - Elizabeth Adler [238]
Valentin sighed as he took the Uzi from his pocket and unfolded the stock. Kazahn had stepped into the pool of light and was glaring contemptuously into the dark void in front of him. Valentin shook his head sadly. He was just a white-haired old man. Life was so unfair. As he clicked the cartridge into position, he spotted a shadow. Someone else was coming down the stairs, a man holding an automatic pistol. His eyes narrowed as he recognized Ferdie Arnhaldt.
Ferdie paused halfway down the stairs, his gun trained on Kazahn. He had no compunction about what he was going to do. He had already killed Markheim and Abyss, and he would kill anyone else who stood in the way of his plan. He intended that the Arnhaldt companies would control world armaments. Governments would fawn for his favors. They would all fear him. He, Ferdie Arnhaldt, would control world power.
Michael spun around as Ferdie called his name. “I suggest you tell Anna to come out here,” the German said. “Tell her she has exactly one minute to make her whereabouts known or I will shoot you.”
“You stupid bastard,” Michael bellowed, unsheathing his sword, “do you think I am just going to stand here and let you kill her? The police are already outside. You are as good as a dead man.”
Arnhaldt began counting.
“Stop it! Stop it!” Genie screamed, stumbling back along the walkway. “Please stop, I’m coming.”
Ferdie’s head swung in her direction and, with a warrior’s cry, Michael rushed at him.
The Uzi spat sudden fire, shattering the silence. With a look of surprise on his face, Ferdie Arnhaldt turned to see his assassin. And then he fell dead at Michael’s feet.
Valentin ran toward them, the compact submachine gun at his shoulder, just as Genie appeared around the corner. “It’s Solovsky,” she screamed, warning her uncle. “He’ll kill you!”
And then Michael raised his sword above his head and smote Valentin, just the way his ancestors had done in battle.
Valentin fell like a stone at his feet. Genie ran and knelt beside him. She stroked his blond hair back from his brow and put her hand over the gaping wound in his neck, trying to stanch the blood that was pumping away his life. “Why, Valentin? Oh, why?” she whispered, agonized, as her tears fell onto his cold hands.
His gray eyes were calm as he looked at her. “It was all true,” he murmured, “I could never have killed you, Genie.” A faint smile curled the corners of his mouth and his breath rattled in his throat. And then the light went out from his eyes and she was looking at a dead man.
Cal was first down the steps in front of the police. The columned cisterns were now bathed in white halogen light. Some fool had pressed the wrong switch and the sounds of a Bach cantata echoed over the dark water. He looked at Arnhaldt’s body and then at Kazahn with the sword in his hands and the Russian dead at his feet. It was like a scene of vengeance from the Bible. He stared at Genie weeping over the body of Valentin Solovsky and he shook his head. In a black-and-white world, the good guys were alive and the bad guys were dead. And that was the way it should be. Putting his arm comfortingly around her, he led her back up the stairs to safety.
Maryland
It was a week later that Cal went to see Missie again. She knew what had happened but there was something else he had to tell her. And besides, he wanted to be with her when Genie went on television at six o’clock.
She was wearing a violet dress that matched her eyes. Her beautiful silver hair was immaculately upswept, and on the table beside her was the photograph of Misha Ivanoff.
She held out her hand to him and he brushed it with his lips as Nurse Milgrim bustled in with the Earl Grey tea.
“I hope you’re not going to be upsetting her any more,” the nurse said, standing by Missie’s chair ready to protect her if he said one word out of line.
“It’s all been said, Milgrim,” she replied calmly. “It’s all over now.”
“Just one more thing,” Cal said. “We picked up a report from the TASS news agency. It said that