How could he listen to a piano concerto when all he wanted to do was to move on to the next objective? But he knew he had to wait until the end of the concert. He clenched his teeth and said nothing as the pianist strode out onto the stage.

Then he couldn’t have spoken if he’d wanted to.

Juliana Fall. My God, he thought, how have I missed her?

She was a vision. Everything about her was beautiful, elegant, heart-stopping. She was draped in flowing ice blue, her only jewelry a simple sapphire pendant, and her hair, the lightest of blonds, bounced on her shoulders. Her skin was translucent. When she smiled at the audience, it was as if something big and hard slammed into his chest, and he couldn’t get enough air. He forgot about the old woman at his side, about the diamond, about the predicament he was in, about Hendrik de Geer and Phillip Boch and all the sordidness he had to face. Now he couldn’t stop staring. Nothing mattered except the woman on stage.

“She’s lovely, isn’t she?” Rachel Stein said, irritatingly matter-of-fact.

Ryder gave a curt nod. His jaw ached. He took a quick, sustaining breath. Never had he been so affected by a woman.

The crowd settled down as Juliana Fall sat at the piano, and the concerto began. Sam Ryder never took his eyes from her. He studied how her long fingers danced on the keyboard, how her expressive face changed with the music, how she used her entire body to bring forth the incredible sounds from her instrument. Her concentration seemed unshakable. It was as if no one else was there, just her and the orchestra. There was a wildness, a sense of daring to her performance that Ryder hadn’t expected. She seemed always on the verge of going over the edge, of making a mistake that would leave her audience gasping and horrified.

What would it be like to have her concentrate like that on him? To have that wildness unleashed in bed? Ryder felt the stirring of an erection and shifted, hoping Stein wouldn’t notice, and then he realized he’d been biting down hard on a knuckle. He pulled his hand from his mouth, and immediately his fingers formed a tight fist. He shoved his hand into his lap.

He wasn’t aware that the concerto had ended until the people around him were jumping to their feet, roaring and clapping, and suddenly he remembered where he was and what he was supposed to be doing. He rose unsteadily, grasping the back of the seat in front of him.

Hendrik de Geer had found the concert interminable and was glad it was over. He was not a man who endured immobility well-nor United States senators who played games with him. The Dutchman took some small pleasure in observing Sam Ryder’s reaction to Juliana Fall. She was very attractive, but there was something remote and untouchable about her. Yet she had that zany streak that made her paint her hair pink and dress up in strange clothes, nothing like the dress she wore tonight. Hendrik felt a strange protectiveness toward her. He wouldn’t want a man like Ryder to get too close to this unpredictable young woman, this child of Catharina.

Inside him, an alarm went off, and Hendrik reminded himself that he was a practical man. He never permitted himself to let sentiment motivate his actions or force him to make mistakes, although, of course, he understood how well sentiment could motivate others and force them to make mistakes.

Once more he looked across the seats, down from his on the left, and saw Rachel Stein. It would be dangerous, he knew, to let the past influence his judgment of her and the situation. He had never anticipated seeing her again. Hers was a name he had learned not to remember, even in his nightmares. His unconscious couldn’t tolerate the thought of her, of her family, of what he, with all his good intentions, had left happen to them. Yet tonight there she was, so small and self-righteous-and so old. He remembered what a pretty mite she’d been. He used to love to bring her gifts, to see the light in those dark, intense eyes. Now she hated him. There was no forgiveness in her heart; she believed she was the only one ever to have suffered. Such arrogance, Hendrik thought.

Seeing her again, he’d almost lost control of himself. But what would that have accomplished? Senator Ryder had invited Rachel Stein to Lincoln Center tonight for a reason, and Hendrik, too, for a reason. Instead of falling apart, the Dutchman decided to wait and see what those reasons were. He had a fair idea already, but he had to know for certain.

He didn’t join the standing ovation. Ryder would be furious if Hendrik let himself be seen, but he didn’t care. He left the concert hall, moving quickly up the aisle, his eyes focused straight ahead. Catharina would be here tonight. If she saw him, she would say nothing. Hendrik could almost feel her shock, her hatred as he thought of her. His breathing became rapid, and he felt a stitch in his side, but he didn’t slacken his pace.

Trust me, my Catharina.

But of course she never would.

Ryder’s reaction to Juliana Fall had been more visceral than to anyone he’d ever met in his life, but sensing Rachel Stein watching him, he tried to control it.

“Juliana’s quite a performer,” the old woman said quietly.

“Yes, amazing.” Ryder coughed as he fought to recover his composure, hoping this impossible woman didn’t notice how little he had left. “She’s an amazing talent.”

On stage, Juliana Fall took her bows alone, with the conductor, with the entire orchestra. Her smile was dazzling. Her shining hair flopped carelessly down the front of her shoulders as she gave her final bow. Ryder could almost feel its softness on his fingers.

“You must understand something, Senator Ryder,” Rachel said.

“Please-not now. In a moment.”

She ignored him. “Hendrik de Geer is the kind of man who would destroy Juliana Fall if he felt he had to to save himself.”

Ryder swung around. “No!”

“You heard me,” she said calmly.

Ryder swallowed, fighting himself. The manipulative little witch! But he couldn’t lose control, not now. Juliana Fall was an unexpected twist; he’d expected to find her as distasteful as her mother’s friend. Ryder was furious. This wasn’t at all what he’d planned! Rachel Stein was the one to have been caught off balance.

“Once I was young and beautiful and talented, as was Juliana’s mother,” Rachel said wistfully, “but Hendrik de Geer robbed us of that, he and his Nazi friends.”

I don’t care! Ryder thought wildly. He had to finish it now and regain the momentum. People were streaming into the aisle. “I’m very sorry about your past, Miss Stein, and I’m sympathetic to your suffering.” He paused, feeling his sense of control seeping back into him. Yes, he thought, I can handle this. “I wish I could help you bring this de Geer to justice, but I’m afraid there’s nothing I can do. I know a good deal less about him than you do yourself and have been unable to learn more. If you wish to bring charges against him for his actions in Amsterdam during Word War II, I can only encourage you, although I must warn you that you’re unlikely to get very far. Greater criminals than he have gone free. In any case, I have to tell you that what you choose to do from this point is your responsibility.”

Rachel Stein made no response. She simply nodded dully, as if she’d withdrawn into herself, as if she were sorry she’d ever believed in him or anyone else. Ryder brushed off the stirrings of pity. The woman’s maudlin, he told himself, and there is nothing I can do.

He added, “I only met de Geer that one time.” He sighed, lifting his shoulders in a helpless, innocent shrug. “As I told you, I had no idea of his Nazi past.”

“Then there’s no point in our meeting with Catharina going forward,” Rachel said tightly.

“I’d like to explain my position to her-”