He beamed gratuitously at his own success but Rey looked confused and tried to reconcile the timings that had been mentioned.
'Alright, but these were stolen, what, two weeks ago? Why has it taken so long to get after them?'
'Politics!' Frans exclaimed, shaking his head in indignation. 'They were stolen from Cherubim, but they technically belong to Seraphim. It was embarrassing for them to say the least. So, they fiddle about for a while not knowing what to do, then Senator Hollis finds out, she is furious, she goes crazy, threatens to turn Hendricks into a eunuch. She goes straight to the Sigulah who is outraged but a little more objective. She asks our Senator Dru to help out. One thing after another, Hollis is happy and since she had requested your involvement and since I'm your boss, I get called in to organise a search and retrieval.'
'Alright, but how did you find them?'
'Well, you know, I have people here, I have people there, but luck was on my side. You know we had been working with radio frequency ID tags to mark our own consignments? Well, Senator Hollis had been interested and instigated just such a programme for some of the Order's more important artefacts. An ultra-high frequency passive RFID with a range of over five metres was discretely attached inside the spine of
Dirigo Lux
. I figured that if the book had been stolen in The Hague, maybe it will be sold on in The Hague, so, I have spent the last week visiting all the old bookshops in the city waiting for my tag reader to bleep at me. It turns out that our thieving friends sold the book to a dealer in town who was not too bothered about provenance when he bought it.'
Rey was impressed, both with the luck of the timing of the tagging programme and the wiles of his commander, but he was still slightly confused.
'So why don't you already have the book back?'
'Ahh,' Frans exhaled sheepishly, 'well, a little complication. It had already been sold as part of a job lot to another dealer. It was sitting there in a big cardboard box but I had no chance to get it without raising attention. Remember what Senator Dru said? Quickly and quietly, so, I took the details of the dealer it was sold to from the paperwork sitting in the box!'
Frans beamed at his inventiveness.
'Terrific! What about the ring?'
'Hmm, no luck there, but I have a few ideas. We get the book back first and then concentrate on the ring. Senator Hollis knows we cannot spend too long on this but we can give it a go until the weekend is over and then see what happens from there.'
Rey was not entirely convinced but nodded his head in agreement, 'So who is the current dealer?'
'I did a bit of background checking. Gertrude Verker, a young girl, twenty-three years of age. She hasn't been in business very long, just trying to make a name for herself I guess. It looks like she tends to buy job lots from other dealers or wherever, does a bit of sifting and sells on the fair circuit and via the internet. She is in The Hague at this very moment for the Thursday book fair in Lange Voorhout which coincidentally is where we are going right now!'
Rey arched an eyebrow and started to sum up their plan, 'So we go to her stall, check the reader, if she has the book there we buy it. Simple as that?'
'Simple as that, and I know that she will have the book on her stall because I had a Sister watching her apartment from early this morning. While she was there the girl loaded up her van with stock. Our Sister did a walk-by with a tag reader and what do you know, it is in the van!'
Frans grinned diabolically like the Cheshire Cat and gave a complicit wink.
Frans and Rey had reached the boulevard of Korte Voorhout and were wandering south-west along the wide path in the opposite direction to the flow of traffic. The bare limbs sprouting from the trunks of the trees lining both lanes and the median reservation offered a skeletal glimpse of how full of life this route would appear once spring had arrived.
Taking in the surroundings, Rey could not help but immediately notice the brightly marked Volkswagen Touareg 4x4 carrying the insignia of the Dutch
Politie
, its engine idling as it sat parked further along in the middle of a large paved pedestrian area at one of the many entrances to the Ministry of Finance.
'Are they expecting trouble?'
Frans shrugged non-committedly, 'They do it all the time. Every minute of every day there is a police presence, the engine running and ready for action.'
He jerked his head, pointing across to the other side of the road opposite the police car, at a large squat ugly grey building entirely surrounded by a tall black palisade security fence.
'The American Embassy, I would imagine that they are always expecting trouble, eh?' he chuckled.
'I guess that rules out direct action then?' Rey wryly smirked.
'Ha! I have no wish to go down the Butch and Sundance route today! Besides, as you have no doubt worked out, you're here simply to observe and as backup, not to mention that it keeps our chiefs happy, eh?'
Rey sighed and pull a humorous sneer of discontent, 'I can think of better things to do with my time. Basically this is just an inter-organisational PR stunt and I'm being dragged along for the ride.'
Frans scoffed at the suggestion and deliberately gazed along the road, causing Rey to look past the embassy building to the plein of Lange Voorhout where he could see the outside rank of brightly coloured market stalls erected that very morning. Various traders were still unpacking items from crates and arranging their wares on their trestle tables.
'The book fair?' Rey asked matter of factly.
'Yes, well, it is more of an antique and book fair,' Frans confirmed, 'you might call it a flea-market. It is on every Thursday but gets much bigger in the summer months. Let's wander down and take a closer look.'
They had crossed the wide road and were standing by the corner of the fencing surrounding the American Embassy. Rey was conscious of the CCTV cameras gawking out from strategic points around the top of the building and was unconsciously shifting to provide as little exposure to them as possible. It was a force of habit rather than risk awareness in the context of their current objective; after all, they were only buying a book from a market stall.
He surveyed the large square, studded all about with a grove of trees, row upon row creating a pleasant park atmosphere and the whole area ringed in by the elegant homes of former patricians of the city. The market was already bustling even with many traders still unpacking and finalising their set-up, but Rey was indifferent enough to note a large painted black and white wooden sign advertising the presence of The Escher Museum in the Lange Voorhout Palace, a former royal residence dating from the eighteenth century. He briefly considered that he would have to pop in after they had completed their morning's work.
'That's the girl,' Frans said suddenly.
Rey followed Frans' gaze and saw a little stall with a yellow and white striped tarpaulin canopy attended by a young red-haired girl in her early twenties. She was reaching into the top box of three large plastic storage containers stacked upon each other, laying out the books that she retrieved across the flat table of her stall and arranging them into assorted groups. He scanned the rest of the market again and suddenly saw something that made him stop and stare.
'So, Frans, that Sister you had watching our book seller, where did you call her in from?'
Frans assumed a look of mock surprise, 'Ohh, have you seen somebody you know?'
A young and striking black woman meandered about the stalls, stopping now and again to examine a piece that apparently took her interest. Her activity was inconspicuous enough; however, the shock of her closely shaven bleached blonde hair made her a notably vibrant figure in the midst of pragmatically dressed vendors and subtly attired shoppers and tourists. She stopped for a moment in front of a jewellery stall and her angelically crowned head bobbed down so that she could look closer at a glass topped box lying before her.
Akosua; Rey appraised her. He might have to remind her of urban camouflage techniques. She was wearing a pair of shiny tan leather riding boots, what might have been authentic black jodhpurs and a tan retro look leather jacket. It seemed that her one concession to the cold weather was a cream cashmere scarf bundled about her neck like a Palestinian Keffiyeh.
He guessed that she had the tag reader in her discrete and expensive looking shoulder bag as her clothing was too form-fitting to hide the relatively bulky device. He turned to Frans and raised his eyebrows expectantly.
'Come now Rey,' Frans grinned, 'once I'd called you over there was little your team could do except a bit of training and sitting around waiting. I needed an extra pair of hands and since she is in your team I thought, "who better?" Besides, from your reports she is the best Sister you have, maybe the best out of the Principalities, eh?'
Rey turned back, unperturbed by the turn of events but clearly a little miffed that Frans had not mentioned it earlier. Frans saw the look and realised that he needed to smooth things over.
'She wouldn't be doing much with you out of the country and your operations, shall we say, interrupted? I called her not long after I called you.'
The piqued look remained on Rey's face.
'She's good, you have trained her well.'
'It isn't the training,' Rey said, shaking his head, 'she's a natural.'
Frans took the verbal cue that it was time to move on,'Well, we're all here now, eh?' he consoled, reaching into his pocket and taking out a mobile phone.
Placing the attached hands-free device into his right ear and wiggling it into place, he pressed a speed-dial and then watched Akosua intently.
As if she were expecting a call only from a friend to chatter about where they might go out that night, Akosua distractedly reached into her jacket pocket and took out her phone. She glanced at the caller ID screen and flipped the phone open, continuing to gaze at the various jewellery boxes as she had done a moment before. She placed the phone to her ear and after a short conversation flipped it shut and pocketed it before casually wandering from stall to stall, gradually nearing the book seller.
'The moment of truth, Frans?' Rey asked with a hint of derision.
Frans simply returned a sly look and then gazed back at the apparently inconsequential scene unfolding for their eyes only.
Akosua stood before the stall adjacent to the book seller and nonchalantly reached into her shoulder-bag. She then opened it wider and rummaged inside as if hunting for a small item buried at the bottom. She looked up and her gaze scanned the book seller's table as she snapped the bag shut. After a moment she wandered past to the next stall and a table set with antique prints and small water-colours. To anybody else watching, the perfunctory adjustment of her left earring was insignificant, to Frans it meant everything.
Rey saw the movement and understood that it was a pre-arranged signal.
'So are we in business?'
Frans grimaced derisively.
'The damn girl is not unpacking fast enough. The book is there but not on display, it must still be in one of those containers.'
'Akosua could just ask for it,' Rey suggested sarcastically, 'it isn't as if she's tying to buy a kilo of explosives.'
'Hmm, yes,' Frans responded, deliberately ignoring the tone, 'I just didn't want to make it that obvious. You know, the girl may remember a book that is asked for, may go digging, you never know.'
'Awww, come on Frans, so what if she remembers? She'll remember when we buy it anyway, it'll go in her receipt book, she might think, "Oh that was a good sale, I'll look for another one of those!" Let's just get it and get out! We're way over-playing this.'
'It is all good training for Akosua, at no extra cost,' Frans said, steadfastly looking ahead.
He had surreptitiously caught Akosua's eye and immediately brought his left hand up to his face, the thumb placed at the temple and the fingers cupped over his left eye. He could have been rubbing his eyebrow or shielding his eyes from the sun.
Akosua immediately looked away and brought up her own left hand and rubbed her forehead just twice with the knuckle of her first finger as it made a ring with her thumb. She had understood Frans' instruction to keep watching the stall and had confirmed it with her own coyly performed 'OK' signal.
Rey sighed forlornly, 'Right, let's wait and see!'
Martha Korteweg slipped the handles of her large shopping bag onto her right arm and pulled the lapels of her long winter coat across her chest, the wide wooden rings sliding to the nook of her elbow as she did so. She shrugged her shoulders in a slight shiver to ward off the worst effects of the bone numbing chill of the morning and walked briskly along the expansive tree lined path that paralleled the placid waters of the large Hofvijver pond, the frosted gravel of the wide pedestrian path crunching beneath her low heeled shoes.
Stretching the full length of the Het Binnenhof parliament buildings, the calm water surface reflected the grand façade in inverted detail, the whole scene providing a picturesque visage of a classical age, now only routinely remembered through the preservation of architecture and tourist postcards, guide tours and pamphlets.
Without noticeably dispelling the cold, the sun was intermittently shining brightly through breaks in the cloud and as a ray of illumination struck the assorted peaks and spires of the silhouette of roofs, she spotted a large grey heron loftily perched atop the faux crenellation capping one of the towers, the lanky bird resembling a medieval guard standing watch over a fairy-tale castle.