In despair – beyond despair – Herr Wegener was yelling orders. Making telephone calls. Yelling more orders. Two, three, a hundred times. But nobody had seen the Trusted Man.
Warren Beatty? Who? The actor?
Had the boss had too much to drink?
He had lost his mind. Because of a woman. His wife.
Isn’t that what always happens?
Herr Wegener promised a reward of millions for the head of the Trusted Man. Millions to anyone who could put him in touch with him.
Nobody came forward.
Captain Carbone was trying to soften him up. The lawyer would not answer his calls. Wegener had reached the point where he got down on his knees and prayed. Take my life, God. Mine and not my son’s. Not Klaus’s. My son, Lord. I beg you.
The crucifix remained silent to his requests.
So Wegener grabbed the telephone. He was furious. No more requests, no more promises. Orders. Orders his men understood immediately.
Revenge. Reprisals.
Death.