And therein lay his problem.

To retrieve the letters, he would have to pass the entrance to Kaiser's outer offices with Mevlevi's compendious file in hand. Rita Sutter might see him. Or Ott or Maeder, or any one of the executives who frequented the Chairman's antechamber. Of course that wasn't the only problem. During his call to Karl, Kaiser had referred to Nick twice specifically by name. The Chairman had even served up a riddle as to his identity. "Call me if you recognize him," he'd said. Only three days ago, Nick had presented himself to Karl as Peter Sprecher. Now what would the old geezer think?

Nick waited for the elevator, frustrated at his lack of alternatives. He was scared. If Mevlevi discovered that his mail was missing, his crime would be discovered in a second. And then? Immediate dismissal if he was lucky. And if he wasn't? Better not to think of it.

Nick decided that speed would be his only ally. He'd rush into DZ, grab the dossier, and rush out. Similarly, when he returned to the Fourth Floor, he would dash past the Emperor's Lair and replace the stolen letters before anyone saw him. Carl Lewis was better suited to run this errand.

On the first floor, Nick strode briskly through the hallway until he reached the entry to DZ. He placed his back against the steel door, drew in three deep breaths, then opened it and marched to Karl's counter.

"I'm here to pick up the file for account 549.617 RR for Herr Kaiser."

Karl responded to the commanding edge of Nick's voice. He spun, picked up the thick dossier, and handed it to the Chairman's assistant in one fluid motion. Nick placed the dossier under his arm and turned to leave the office.

"Wait," cried Karl. "The Chairman asked if I could recognize you. Give me a minute!"

Nick rotated his shoulders to the left and gave Karl his profile. "I'm sorry. We're very busy. The Chairman expects to receive this dossier right away." With that he exited the office as quickly as he had entered. The entire visit had lasted fifteen seconds.

He hit the stairwell running, taking the steps two by two. He held the dossier in his left hand and the banister in his right. After five upward strides, his knee gave out. He could raise the leg, but only if he was willing to endure a severe lick of pain. So much for speed. Now he had to make sure he suppressed a limp.

Nick rested when he reached the entry to the Fourth Floor. He could not imagine walking into Wolfgang Kaiser's office and handing Ali Mevlevi a dossier from which privately addressed mail had been stolen. What would the man do when he opened up letters supposedly containing confirmations of his many deposits and transfers only to find blank paper?

The consequences were unthinkable. Yet only seconds from happening.

Nick opened the door that led to the Fourth Floor hallway and walked directly into Rudolf Ott.

"Excuse me," said Ott, eyes wide with shock.

"I'm in a hurry to see the Chairman," Nick blurted without thinking. As Ott was directly facing him, there was no way to judge in which direction the man was heading. If he was going to see Mrs. Sutter, Nick would have no choice but to accompany him.

Ott blinked anxiously through his thick glasses. "I thought you were with him right now. Well, what are you waiting for? Get moving."

Nick sighed with relief and set off down the hallway. He could already see the wide entryway leading to the Chairman's anteroom. Rita Sutter sat just inside and to the right. She would be expecting his return any minute and unless he practically ran by, she would see him. He had no choice but to lower his head and walk past the entryway. He told himself to disregard any remark he might hear. His own office was down the corridor and to the left. Fifteen seconds, twenty max, were all he needed to replace the Pasha's correspondence.

Nick walked down the hallway, conscious of keeping an even gait. He was in a great deal of pain. Three steps and he would be in Rita Sutter's view. Two steps. The double doors were wide open, just as they'd been when he had left a few minutes ago. His peripheral vision told him that Kaiser's doors were shut and that the red light above them was illuminated. Do not disturb. Period!

Nick kept his head down and powered past the entryway. He thought he saw someone speaking with Rita Sutter but he couldn't be sure. Anyway, it didn't matter now. Another few steps and he would be around the corner, out of her sight. He slowed his pace and straightened his back. His worry had been for naught.

"Neumann," a deep voice yelled.

Nick kept walking. One more stride and he was around the corner. If necessary he could lock his office door.

"Goddammit, Neumann, I called for you," Armin Schweitzer boomed. "Stop this second."

Nick slowed. He hesitated.

Schweitzer lumbered down the hall after him. "My God, man, are you deaf? I called your name twice."

Nick turned on his heel. "The Chairman is expecting me. I need to get a few papers out of my office."

"Bullshit," said Schweitzer. "Rita told me where you've been. I see you have what you were sent for. Now get in there. You probably wanted to call a girlfriend, right? Make plans for a Friday night. It doesn't do to keep the Chairman waiting."

Nick looked down the corridor toward his office and then toward Schweitzer, who was extending an eager hand, ready to personally drag him back to the Chairman's office. The choice between Ali Mevlevi and Armin Schweitzer was easy to make. "I said I have to get something out of my office. I'll be with Herr Kaiser in a minute."

Schweitzer was taken aback. He took a step toward Nick, then stopped. "Suit yourself. I'll be sure to inform the Chairman later."

Nick turned his back and continued to his office. Inside, he locked the door behind him and bustled to his desk. He opened the top drawer and felt under it for the Pasha's correspondence. Nothing was there. Had he forgotten where he had taped the letters? He opened the drawers on his right, first one, then the second, even the third, though he knew he hadn't hidden the letters there. Nothing was under any of the drawers. Someone had found the stolen correspondence.

Entering the Chairman's anteroom, Nick saw that Rita Sutter was engaged on the telephone.

"I'm sorry, Karl, but the Chairman cannot be disturbed." She punched a button, disconnecting the call, then motioned for him to stop at her desk. "Karl just asked me if a Mr. Sprecher had come down to DZ in your place."

"Really?" Nick pried open a brittle smile. He had been sure he'd escaped scot-free.

"I don't know how he confused you with Mr. Sprecher. You two don't look anything alike. Poor Karl. I don't like to see him getting older. We're following close behind." She dialed a two-digit number and after a moment said, "Mr. Neumann is back from Dokumentation Zentrale."

"Send him in," barked Kaiser, loud enough for Nick to hear.

Nick waited for Rita Sutter to pass on Karl's quip to the Chairman, but she hung up the phone, then inclined her head toward the double doors.

Nick walked into the Chairman's office. He was struck once again by its overwhelming size. The massive mahogany desk beckoned like a medieval altar. Dim light filtered in through the grand arched window. He looked through it, surveying the busy scene below. Trams passed one another. Pedestrians crowded the sidewalks. A large square flag bearing the blue and white shield of Zurich was strung above the street. He hadn't noticed it before. He looked closer at the flag. Suddenly, it struck him that he knew this view. It was the one vivid memory from his father's last visit to the bank, seventeen years ago. He imagined himself as a child, nose pressed to the window, marveling at the busy street scene below. Nick had been in the Emperor's Lair when he was ten years old.