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“Her name is Carissa Strousberg, although I never referred to her by her first name.”
“Why not?”
“She provided the scholarship for me to attend school after my parents died. I won’t get into all of it now, but I was a typical teen, and the Müllers—the family Uncle Henri arranged to act as my guardians—had no idea how to handle me. They’d never had children of their own. Anyway, my uncle had heard about Mrs. Strousberg and that she provided scholarships for orphans, which I essentially was. I mean, I had my uncle, but it wasn’t like I could go live with him.”
“After having met him, I can’t imagine you’d want to.”
Schön chuckled. “Anyway, Mrs. Strousberg would visit me from time to time, first in Leysin, then in Geneva. She’s the one who taught me how to handle the girls who bullied me. She told me to hold my head high and ignore them.”
“She sounds like an amazing woman.”
Schön nodded. “She was.”
“But?”
“She was from a different era, you know? I mean, she also encouraged me to use my ‘feminine wiles,’ as she called them, to get what I wanted in life. At first, I listened, but eventually, it felt wrong. Really wrong. That was when I called Uncle Henri and confessed the kind of assignments I was being given. He was livid, of course.”
“That’s when he recommended you for the coalition.”
She nodded. “He knew about the op in St. Moritz and arranged for me to become the handler. And, as you know, he shared classified documents with me that he shouldn’t have.”
A lot of what she was telling me now, I’d learned when she and I traveled to the States and met with Baissier. He’d admitted he encouraged Schön to do some of the things she’d done, like question the bank managers on her own and prepare briefs about what she’d learned and send them directly to him. He’d almost ruined her chances entirely.
“As far as I’m concerned, it worked out the way it should have. You’re on the Albanian task force instead of the Swiss team, and I couldn’t be happier about that.”
Her arm tightened around my waist. “Do you really mean it?”
I shifted so I could look into her eyes. “Schön, you know I do.”
We continued holding each other, and nothing more, until Hawk announced we were approaching Zurich and to take our seats.
Since it was late, I thought it best we spend the night in the city, then travel to St. Moritz in the morning. Rather than bother anyone in Shere about it, I contacted the helicopter company and said we were pushing the trip to tomorrow afternoon.
“Do you have a favorite place to stay in Zurich?” I asked.
“There are many lovely spots.”
I smiled. “There must be one you prefer over another.”
“There’s a boutique hotel I like. It’s nothing fancy, but the people who own it are kind and friendly. I can book it if you’d like.”
I understood enough German to know Schön had requested two rooms, both on the sixth floor, if available. She then inquired if it was possible to have dinner or if we’d be arriving too late.
“All set?” I asked, standing and offering her my hand once the plane landed and the door was open for us to exit.
“Oh, I forgot to mention there’s a barber shop not far from the hotel, in case I ruin your haircut.”
I hugged her to me. “You anticipate everything, but somehow, I think it will be perfect.”
“Travel within the coalition is much nicer than Swiss intelligence provides us with,” she commented.
“Hello,” I said to the driver when he exited to open the rear passenger door.
“Good evening. Mr. Persson arranged for your ride to the helipad.”
“Macht?” Interesting. Why would he have done so rather than Nemesis?
“There’s been a change of plans.” I listened as Schön told him the name of the hotel where we’d be staying.
