Intrigue in Geneva – Episode 5

Dvora watched his retreating back with relief. With her right thumb, she quickly flicked open the top of her diamond ring. She cast a glance around the room. The couple opposite had finally decided on apple strudel and were drumming their fingers on the table in time to a jaunty German beer song that the pianist played loudly. Deftly, Dvora tipped the secreted white powder into Rashid’s wine. It dissolved instantly.

He rushed back to her side. “The pianist will play your song in a few minutes. He wants to play a couple of up-tempo numbers first.”

Dvora nodded without enthusiasm. “Thank you.”

She bit her lip. As each second ticked by, Dvora knew her situation was becoming increasingly dangerous.

Dvora passed his glass to him.

“Let’s have a toast. How about getting to know each other?”

Rashid’s eyes gleamed with excitement. He raised his glass and took a generous

swallow.

“Oh yes…” He didn’t finish his sentence. Rashid began to make small, soft choking

sounds and tried to cough.

Dvora stood up, leant towards him and whispered in his ear. “Never again.”

With satisfaction she watched his face turn to a mask of horror, then terror.

She picked up her briefcase and said, “I’m just going to the ladies’ room.”

Rashid blinked rapidly and tried to raise his hand. His breath came in small gasps as he vainly tried to speak.

“I won’t be long,” Dvora said cheerfully. As she spoke, Rashid’s throat was constricting, his tongue doubling in size, effectively cutting off his airway. She estimated he had five minutes to live.

She herself had three minutes to exit before the waiters noticed something amiss. Scanning the room, Dvora froze. She willed her feet to move, but they refused to obey. Her eyes widened with shock, and her hands trembled. She dropped her briefcase with a thud onto the carpet. A waiter rushed over, picked it up and handed to her.

“Merci, Monsieur,” she whispered.

The waiter looked puzzled and spoke to her in German.

“Madam, are you feeling well? You look very pale.”

She replied in French.

“Yes, I’m fine. The heat in the room. . .”

At that precise moment Dvora realised, with mounting dread, that she had made two catastrophic errors.