Diane looked him up and down and saw a tall, lean, hard-looking man with a fierce dark beard and a world of suspicion in his cold blue eyes. Strange, startling eyes, she thought. Dead man’s eyes. Killer’s eyes. He was wearing ordinary coveralls that looked faded from long use, but clean and crisp as a military uniform. A strong, muscled body beneath the clothes, she judged. An impressive man, for a hired killer.
“I was expecting Grigor,” Harbin said.
“I hope you’re not disappointed,” she said, heading for the couch across the room.
“Not at all. You said you are Mr. Humphries’s personal assistant?”
She sat and crossed her long legs. “Yes.”
“Will I meet him?”
“No. You will deal with me.”
He did not reply. Instead, Harbin went to the refrigerator and took out a bottle of wine. She watched him open it, then search in the cabinet above the sink for wine glasses. Is he using this time to think of what he should say? Verwoerd asked herself. Finally he pulled out two simple tumblers and splashed some wine into them.
“I arrived only a few hours ago,” he said, handing her one glass, then pulling up the desk chair to sit facing her. “I don’t know where things are yet.”
“I hope this room is comfortable for you,” she said.
“It will do.”
She waited for him to say more, but he simply studied her with those icepick blue eyes. Not undressing her. There was nothing sexual in it. He was . . . she tried to find the right word: controlled. That’s it: he’s completely under control. Every gesture, every word he speaks. I wonder what he looks like beneath the beard, Verwoerd thought. Is he the ruggedly handsome type, or does the beard hide a weak chin? Ruggedly handsome, she guessed.
The silence stretched. She took a sip of the wine. Slightly bitter. Perhaps it will improve after it’s breathed a while. Harbin did not touch his wine; he simply held the glass in his left hand and kept his eyes riveted on her.
“We have a lot to discuss,” she said at last.
“I suppose that’s true.”
“You seem to be afraid that we want to get rid of you.”
“That’s what I would do if I were in your position. I’m a liability to you now, isn’t that so?”
He’s brutally frank, she thought. “Mr. Harbin, please let me assure you that we have no intention of causing you harm.”
He smiled at that, and she saw strong white teeth behind the dense black beard.
“In fact, Mr. Humphries has told me to give you a bonus for the work you’ve done.”
He gave her a long, hard look, then said, “Why don’t we stop this fencing? You wanted me to kill Fuchs and I failed. Now he’s here in Selene ready to testify that you’re behind the attacks on prospectors’ ships. Why should you pay me a bonus for that?”
“We’ll pay for your silence, Mr. Harbin.”
“Because you know that if you kill me the ship’s log will go to the news media.”
“We have no intention of killing you.” Verwoerd nodded toward his untouched glass. “You can drink all the wine you want.”
He put the tumbler down on the thinly carpeted floor. “Ms. Verwoerd—”
“Diane,” she said, before she had a chance to think about it.
He tilted his head slightly. “Diane, then. Let me explain how this looks to me.”
“Please do.” She noted that he did not tell her to use his first name.
“Your corporation hired me to scare the independent prospectors out of the Belt. I knocked off several of their ships, but this man Fuchs caused a fuss. Then you instructed me to get rid of Fuchs, and this I failed to do.”
“We are disappointed, Mr. Harbin, but that doesn’t mean there’s any reason for you to fear for your safety.”
“Doesn’t it?”
“We’ll handle this hearing. In a way, it’s an opportunity for us to deal with Fuchs in a different manner. Your part of this operation is finished. All we want to do is pay you off and thank you for your work. I know it wasn’t easy.”