Emerald (18 page)

“What, I missed a bug? Where was it?”

“Simon said it was built into the smoke detector over the door to the dining room. He didn’t even find it on his first sweep. Anyway we’re not staying there, so don’t worry about it.”

“Thanks, but it does bother me. When is our flight out of Munich?”

“Would you believe seven-thirty tonight?”

“I guess we won’t have to take you nightclubbing at the Cobra Club again tonight.”

“Guess not, but if you get out of here and let me get dressed, you can buy me breakfast and maybe I’ll take a rain-check on another hot date at the Cobra Club.”

Hans went to several Munich department stores before finding the clothes he needed for the auction. Then he went to a theatre supply store and replenished his supply of theatrical prosthetics, glues and glue removers, hairpieces and makeup both dry and wet. He carefully packed his suitcase, locked his make-up case and stowed them both in his beloved ‘68 Mercedes 250 SE.

Emily’s phone call had caught him off guard, the auction to be held on Friday, in just four days? Did he have time to get ready? Going over his plan in his mind he tried to visualize any possible issues that might prevent him from getting his emerald. He had gone to the hotel and carefully explored the room where the auction was to be held, disguised as a security man from a bidding conglomerate. He had evaluated every possible escape route from the auction gallery in the hotel, should he need to leave in a hurry. His weapons were ready, taken apart, cleaned, oiled, still stored in the flat case under the false floor of the trunk in his car, cleverly hidden should anyone inspect the car.

Gunther, his mentor in Argentina had mailed two new daggers to him, made of porcelain with cork handles so that they would pass through metal detectors at airports or the hotel, should they use a detector there. The larger one would remain in the special sheath just below his collar behind his head, the smaller one kept in the sheath strapped to the inside of his left calf.

The only thing he had left to do was drive back to Geneva for the auction. He knew his financial resources were available in the Morganheiser account at the Bank du Mont Blanc, a little over seven hundred thousand Swiss francs. Friday was four days away, but the wait felt eternal. As soon as he took possession of the emerald, he would fly back to Argentina for a long, sweet vacation.

Everything was going according to plan. He drove cautiously through Munich until he reached the highway, then sped off toward Geneva.

He spent the drive continuing to rehearse his plan. He had to maintain his anonymity but also had to be able to bear the spotlight during the auction. In his new disguise, no one would suspect he was a brash, well endowed, blonde from Austria. If this came off without a hitch, then nothing would ever stand in his way again. He was brutally honest with himself about what he could do in each worst case scenario; if he felt there was any doubt that he could succeed, he developed an alternative action plan to cover any emergency.

Emily was disappointed when she learned from her phone call Klaus would not be attending the auction. He was hospitalized with pneumonia, so he was sending his sister, Monique, in his place. That seemed strange because he didn’t sound very sick over the phone. He requested that she relay this to Dr. Franz as well as the relevant personnel at Christie’s, and to the Bank du Mont Blanc, where Monique would have access to his account. He promised to come see her as soon as he felt better but because of some pressing business that probably would not be for a month or so. He promised then to take her away for a weekend on the Riviera. He thanked her for handling this matter of communicating on his behalf for his sister. He looked forward to seeing her sweet face.

Of course, Emily had taken care of everything. He only had only to ask.

A
fter the six hour drive back to Geneva David pulled into the parking lot behind the Geneva’s Central Police station, got out of the car and stretched. The late afternoon sun cast shadows over the Jura Mountains leaving lacey grey patterns on the asphalt.

Turning as Miriam left the car he said, “Thanks for helping with the driving, Miriam. Say, I didn’t know you used to drive Formula cars on the Nürburgring.”

“Too fast for you, my friend? I didn’t see you closing your eyes or any white knuckles when you grabbed the chicken bar.”

“No really, I am quite impressed with your driving skills.”

As she turned to walk into the back door of the police station, Miriam replied over her shoulder, “Thanks, I think.”

Servette looked up from the folder he was reading and waved the duo to the two chairs in front of his desk that, as usual, was hidden under the piles of paper work.

“Long drive? Sure it was,” Piet greeted them. “I’ve done it a few times in my lifetime, believe me. Would either of you like a Coke or a bottle of water?

Both agents shook their heads and watched as the chief rummaged in a desk drawer and pulled out a battered briar pipe and began filling it with tobacco. Flicking a silver lighter, he pulled on the pipe over and over until the office was half filled with a grey noxious smoke.

Waving his hand through the smoke, Servette laughed and said, “Sorry about that. It’s my one sin and you can blame your boss for it. I had given up the smoking habit years ago until Levi and I spent a weekend together last year at an international forensics conference on Malta. Joining his pipe smoking was the only way I could counteract that noxious Turkish he smokes.”

The air in the office was almost breathable again when Servette flicked his lighter again to re-light his dead tobacco.

“So what did you find out in Munich?”

After sharing with Servette their frustration and uncertainty about Bruno and his Munich Police Department, they told about their visit to the Bavarian National Library and how helpful Frau Kratz was in putting some history behind the Wittlesbach Emerald and Han’s family connection to it.

“We still don’t know really why he is after the emerald, or why he is killing people in Europe, but things are slowly coming into perspective,” Miriam said as she vigorously waved more pipe smoke away. “Where do you buy that vile pipe tobacco, Piet? Surely you can find some that doesn’t smell like burning garbage.”

“My dear Miriam, what you probably don’t know is that I am, more or less, a Catholic. That is I do go to mass on Easter and Christmas. However I am much more liberal than much of the doctrines rained down on us from Rome, and it gives me great pleasure to puff on my pipe in which is burning a tobacco called Three Nuns. In my own way it’s a small poke in the eye of the church.”

Miriam and David laughed. Survette turned, and put the still smoking pipe down behind him on the window ledge.

“Sorry about that. Besides poking fun at the church, it really gives me lots of uninterrupted time in my office so I can organize my files. When I stoke up my pipe I leave the door open and no one, it seems, wants to come in and bother me. Enough of this, we need to talk about the auction. The Emerald in question will indeed be in the auction tomorrow at the Four Seasons Hotel des Bergues on the other side of the lake. I think I told you that Josef made contact with an interesting man from Hong Kong who will also be bidding on that stone. Seems that a Triad he works for wants it for some reason, just why, we don’t know. I think it’s likely, after talking this morning to Levi, that you both should be at the auction, just in case your killer happens to show up. We have no definite reasons to believe that he will, just that it’s a possibility. All you have to do is register with the Christie security at the hotel and keep your eyes open. I have made the necessary connection for you there both with Jacob Metz the manager of the auction house and he with their security staff so you will be able to go armed without any trouble. He’s not too pleased that outsiders will be there armed, but he agreed, as a favor to me. Also, Josef has asked that you not acknowledge him or his friend from Hong Kong, just so you won’t spook him. I think after your day on the road you’ll probably want some rest before the auction tomorrow. Keep in touch and let me know what is going on as soon as you can after the auction.

“Piet, we really don’t know what this killer looks like. All we have is that computer enhanced photo that was taken in 1960. Even if he is this millionaire from Buenos Aires there doesn’t seem to be any photographs of him. Evidently he doesn’t have a driver’s license and the information our Research Department turned up he has been very careful to keep completely away from cameras and photographers. Seems like he is well known in Argentina but no one really knows what he looks like. This is another part of his psychopathic nature, I guess.”

“Yes I know, but perhaps you can spot someone that seems to fit what we know about him, as little as that is. Anyway let me know what you find out when the auction is over.”

On their way back up to their hotel rooms, Miriam said, “Thank you for the good dinner conversation tonight, David. It was good to get better acquainted with you. I knew nothing about your family. The stories of survival from the Holocaust are so sad and at the same time very inspirational.”