Windmills of the Gods by Sidney Sheldon

“Yes, thank you.”

“Can I get you something?”

Mary took a nervous breath. “My—my gardener tells me he’s having trouble with insects in the garden. I wondered whether you might have something to help—like Antral?”

“Why, yes. As a matter of fact, we do have some Antral,” the nurse said. She reached toward a back shelf and picked up a can with a poison label on it. “An infestation of ants is very unusual for this time of year.” She put a form in front of Mary. “You’ll have to sign for it, if you don’t mind. It has arsenic in it.”

Mary was staring at the form placed in front of her. There was only one name on it.

Mike Slade.

26

When Mary tried to telephone Louis Desforges to tell him what she had learned, his line was busy. He was talking to Mike Slade. Dr. Desforges’s first instinct had been to report the murder attempt, except that he could not believe Slade was responsible. And so, Louis had decided to telephone Slade himself.

“I have just left your ambassador,” Louis Desforges said. “She is going to live.”

“Well, that’s good news, Doctor. Why shouldn’t she?”

Louis’s tone was cautious. “Someone has been poisoning her.”

“What are you talking about?” Mike demanded.

“I think perhaps you know what I’m talking about.”

“Hold it! Are you saying that you think I’m responsible? You’re wrong. You and I had better have a private talk someplace where we can’t be overheard. Can you meet me tonight?”

“At what time?”

“I’m tied up until nine o’clock. Why don’t you meet me a few minutes after, at Baneăsa Forest? I’ll meet you at the fountain and explain everything then.”

Louis Desforges hesitated. “Very well. I will see you there.” He hung up and thought: Mike Slade cannot possibly be behind this.

When Mary tried to telephone Louis again, he had left. No one knew where to reach him.

Mary and the children were having dinner at the residence.

“You really look a lot better, Mother,” Beth said. “We were worried.”

“I feel fine,” Mary assured her. And it was the truth. Thank God for Louis!

Mary was unable to get Mike Slade out of her mind. She could hear his voice saying: “Here’s your coffee. I brewed it myself.” Slowly killing her. She shuddered.

“Are you cold?” Tim asked.

“No, darling.”

She must not involve the children in her nightmares. Perhaps I should send them back home for a while? Mary thought. They could stay with Florence and Doug. And then she thought: I could go with them. But that would be cowardly, a victory for Mike Slade, and whomever he was working with. There was only one person she could think of who could help her. Stanton Rogers. Stanton would know what to do about Mike.

But I can’t accuse him without proof and what proof do I have? That he made coffee for me every morning?

Tim was talking to her. “…so we said we’d ask if we could go with them.”

“I’m sorry, darling. What did you say?”

“I said Nikolai asked us if we could go out camping with him and his family next weekend.”

“No!” It came out more harshly than she had intended. “I want you both to stay close to the residence.”

“What about school?” Beth asked.

Mary hesitated. She could not keep them prisoners here, and she did not want to alarm them.

“That’s fine. As long as Florian takes you there and brings you back. No one else.”

Beth was studying her. “Mother, is anything wrong?”

“Of course not,” Mary said quickly. “Why do you ask?”

“I don’t know. There’s something in the air.”

“Give her a break,” Tim said. “She had the Romanian flu.”

That’s an interesting phrase, Mary thought. Arsenic poisoning—the Romanian flu.

“Can we watch a movie tonight?” Tim asked.

“May we watch a movie tonight,” Mary corrected him.

“Does that mean yes?”

Mary had not planned on running a movie, but she had spent so little time with the children lately that she decided to give them a treat.

“It means yes.”

“Thank you, Madam Ambassador,” Tim shouted. “I get to pick the movie.”

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