The League of Night and Fog by David Morrell Page A

happened, it happened here,” Misha said.
    “And he didn’t leave willingly.”
2
    T he room became silent. The rain lashed harder against the window.
    “Our people are searching for him,” Misha said. “We’re about to ask friendly networks to help us. It’s difficult to focus our efforts. We don’t know who’d want to take him or why. If the motive was revenge for something Joseph did while he still worked for us, why didn’t the enemy merely kill him?”
    “Unless the enemy wanted”—Erika swallowed—“to torture him.”
    “As a means of revenge? But that would make it personal, not professional,” Misha said. “In my twenty years of intelligence work, I’ve never heard of an operative allowing his emotions to control him so much he violated protocol and used torture to get even with someone. Assassination? Of course—on occasion. Butsadism?” Misha shook his head. “If other operatives found out, the violator would be shunned, despised, forever mistrusted, judged undependable. Even you, Saul, with all the reason you had to hate Eliot, you killed him but didn’t torture him.”
    The memory filled Saul with bitterness. “But we all know there’s one circumstance in which torture
is
acceptable.”
    “Yes, for information,” Misha said, “though chemicals are more effective. But that brings us back to my earlier questions. What network would want him? What would they want to know? We’re searching for him. That’s the best I can tell you for now… . Of course, as soon as our local people understood how serious the situation was, they contacted our headquarters. Because of my relationship with Joseph and you—remember, he was one of my teachers—I decided to take charge of the assignment rather than delegate it. I also decided to bring you the bad news in person, rather than give it to you coldly in a message. But I would have come to you anyhow, as soon as I heard about the raid on your village. The coincidence can’t be ignored. I don’t like my premonition.”
    “That the two events are connected? That
we’re
targets as much as my father was? The thought occurred to us,” Erika said. “But why would
we
be targets?”
    “I don’t know any more than I know why your father disappeared. But wouldn’t it be wiser if you and your family stayed out of sight while we investigate? If you
are
a target, you won’t be able to move as freely as we can.”
    “You think I’d be satisfied doing nothing, waiting, while my father’s in danger?”
    Misha exhaled. “In conscience, I had to suggest the prudent course of action. But before you commit yourself, there’s one thing I still haven’t told you.”
    Saul waited uneasily.
    “What we found in the basement,” Misha said.
3
    F or an instant, no one moved. At once Saul reached for the doorknob, about to go out to the stairs in the hallway, when Misha’s voice stopped him.
    “No, through there.” Misha pointed toward the bedroom door.
    “You said the basement.”
    “The part I’m talking about can’t be reached from downstairs. In the bedroom, in the far right corner, there’s a door.”
    “I remember,” Erika said. “The first time I came here to visit, I thought the door led into a closet. I tried to open it and found it locked. I asked my father why. He claimed he’d lost the key. But you know my father never lost anything. So I asked him what was in there. He said, ‘Nothing important enough to call a locksmith.’”
    “Then why did he lock the door?” Saul asked.
    “Exactly my question,” she said. “His answer was he didn’t remember.”
    Misha opened the door to the bedroom—the shadows beckoned.
    “When our investigators searched the apartment, looking for anything that might explain your father’s disappearance, they came to that door, and obviously they had to know what was behind it, so they picked the lock and … well, with a little research, they learned that this house has a history. They checked old