The Kaisho Read Online Free

often in canny gamblers, and he knew that she was thinking of slipping a letter opener between his ribs. He wondered whether she had it in her to actually commit such an act of finality, to be party to an act that would forever alter the core of her. Contemplating her, this was the question that intrigued him the most because, now that he had come in contact with her, he recognized something in her and was drawn to it.
    “What is it you want from me?” she asked.
    Downstairs in the library, he poured them both brandies. He had allowed her to dress, but only while he watched. She had put on a short black pleated skirt, a cream-colored blouse, and suede slipper-shoes worked with gold thread. He was impressed that she dressed with an economy of movement and a dignity to try to protect herself from his presence.
    At first, she refused his offer.
    “Drink,” he insisted. “The brandy will calm your nerves.” He eyed her. “It will be to your benefit.”
    She accepted the glass balloon from him, sipped slowly, evenly.
    Do Duc took his drink, sat down on the plush sofa beside her. “All right,” he said. “This is what I require. When your brother calls you, you will contrive a way to get him to tell you where he is.”
    Margarite put her balloon onto the glass-and-brass coffee table. “You’re crazy. It’ll never happen. For one thing, calling me—or anyone else in his family for that matter—is strictly against the rules.”
    “Nevertheless,” Do Duc said, “he’ll call.”
    Margarite studied him for a moment, before leaning forward to extract a cigarette from a silver filigreed box. As she did so, her breasts strained against the blouse. It was the first provocative gesture she had made, and Do Duc knew she had begun to think the situation through. That was good for both of them. Better the demon you knew...
    “You stupid beast. My brother, Dominic, was put into the Federal Witness Security Program almost a year ago. He was allowed to take his wife and children with him. Since then, I have not heard from him. Neither has his mother. He was told in no uncertain terms what the rules were—no contact with family or friends, otherwise the feds could no longer guarantee his safety.”
    She watched him as he picked up the tooled silver lighter, lit the flame for her. She hesitated only fractionally before leaning forward to light the end of her cigarette. She inhaled deeply, blew out a stream of smoke in such a way that he could mark her agitation.
    “Are you aware that in the entire history of WITSEC not one inductee who has stuck to the rules has been gotten to?” She continued to watch him as she smoked. “The WITSEC deputy marshal at the Office of Enforcement Operations told us that, and after what Dominic had done, I know he took it to heart. He’s got no death wish, just the opposite. He’s got everything to live for.”
    Suddenly she stopped speaking, and Do Duc knew that she desperately wanted a response from him. This had been her first shot at trying to gain the upper hand, and for this he awarded her more points. He said nothing.
    Margarite continued to smoke until the cigarette was finished. Then she stubbed it out in a Steuben ashtray. Do Duc expected her to reach for another, but again, she surprised him with her willpower. She sat with her hands in her lap.
    “Let my daughter go,” she said softly.
    “We were speaking about your brother, Dominic.” Do Duc watched with interest the single line of perspiration make its way from her hairline down her temple onto her cheek. He was aware of the tension in the same way he often saw the auras around people. There was a tangible humming in the air.
    He could see the tiny tremble of her lips before she put her head down. “Okay, say Dominic does call,” she said in capitulation. “Then what?”
    “Set up an immediate meeting—without his WITSEC handler.”
    “He won’t do that.”
    He took another cigarette out of the silver box, lit it, and