“It’s up to you,” he said in what she detected as a slight southern drawl. “You can either talk to us here or we can take you downtown.” Then he winked at her.
Dee looked at the man on her left, but he just sat stoic and silent, the thin lines of his mouth pressed together.
“Why couldn’t you just talk to me in the cafe?” She addressed the redhead again. “This is pretty unorthodox, if you ask me.”
“Because the information here is classified. You’re in some trouble. So I suggest you cooperate.”
“I don’t know any Heinrich Keller.”
“Then what were you doing in his safety deposit box?”
Now Dee’s heart began to pound as if it might leave her body entirely. “But that was Nelson Peterson’s box. He’s an old man I befriended at the Wyngate State Hospital. He left those things to me and—”
“How about the Strassgaard ring? Did he leave that to you, too?”
“Yes, as a matter of fact, he did. Because the Strassgaard family was gone before he ever came into possession of those things. Which only happened because he was a deckhand on a boat Goering chartered. He told me he won it gambling with one of his aides, who lifted it from Georing’s personal stash. The guy hid the other jewels in Russia until he could go back for them. Only he never got back.”
“Why was that?”
“Russia isolated itself after the war, maybe...how should I know? Peterson’s mother was Russian, and his father was Austrian, but I don’t know much about him.”
“Peterson was Dutch, Miss Dee. And he wasn’t any deckhand, he owned that boat you came in on this afternoon. He also had a lot of gambling debts he never paid to Goering’s aide, Heinrich Keller. We have reason to believe those two people were one and the same.”
Dee was stunned.
Peterson an aide to Goering...a Nazi war criminal! Someone who would have been tried right along with the worst of them if he had been caught. No wonder he’d changed his name so many times. And to think she had almost “aided and abetted” his escape. How could she have been so gullible as to believe such a story? She could be in some serious trouble, here...
She looked into eyes that were nearly as blue as her own and decided the man didn’t look half as shocked as she felt.
“I thought he was Swedish...Dutch or something,” she murmured, more to herself than her interrogator. “His medical records said his name was Nelson Peterson. He was at Wyngate for nearly five years.”
“He used that name on occasion, that’s how we knew about the box. Hasn’t been any activity on it for years, though. So. Why did you leave Oregon in such an all-fired hurry, Miss Parker?”
“Because I...” Dee took a deep breath and felt the force of a fast and sudden turn into back streets. “Where are we going?”
“Just answer the question, please.”
They passed an industrial warehouse and bumped over railroad tracks.
“I think I’d rather talk at the police station,” she said. “How come none of you are in uniform?”
“We’re not those kind of officers. Now, try to calm down a little, Dee, and think carefully before you answer the questions. Because everything you say—”
“Can and will be used against me in a court of law?” She tried to look past the man on her right (another zombie) and caught a glimpse of a street sign zipping by. “I’m familiar with the rules, Mr...Mr...”
“Eddington,” he supplied. “Why did you leave Oregon so fast?”
“I don’t know what you mean by fast. I always take a vacation after I turn in my yearly scandal piece. You can even ask my editor.”
“Dee...” He shook his head slowly in mock admonition. “Mind if I call you Dee?”
“Really, I’d rather you wouldn’t.”
“Don’t get so hasty now. Answer each question carefully. Let me rephrase that last one for you. Your editor said you were scheduled for Mexico in two weeks, and he couldn’t figure why—”
“You talked to Devlin?”
“Yes, ma’am. We ran your license plates and talked to a lot of people.”
“My license plates?”
“Courtesy of the assistant bank manager back in Oregon. We’ve been watching that box ever since we lost track of Keller four and a half years ago. Now your editor, he couldn’t figure out why you left so sudden. Truth is, he didn’t even know you were gone.”
“But...”
“Just a minute,” he held up his hand to stop the flow of words. “We already know the only commercial cruises out of that little town are fishing charters. So considering the yacht you came in on today, that’s some exclusive fishing trip, Dee.”
“All right,” she relented. “I had no idea accepting that ring was going to implicate me like this. What is it, the missing piece to the Austrian crown jewels or something? If it’s that important, I’ll be happy to give it back. I’m not a crook, you know.”
“Interesting choice of words, the Austrian crown jewels. The Crown Jewels are English.”
“English Crown Jewels, then.”
“But you said, Austrian, Dee. Which proves you know more than you’re letting on.”
“I said I was willing to give it back!” she snapped. “Did you hear that part? Honestly! I think you’re all just trying to scare me!”
They pulled into a deserted factory parking lot and stopped next to a side door.
Dee felt a wave of sudden panic. “All right, I’m scared—you’ve succeeded. I’m not interested in keeping stolen goods. Do they belong to someone else? Is that it? If they do, I’ll just give them back.”
They all got out in unison, as if some signal had been given. Dee was pushed toward the door.
“I want to make a statement!” She could not wrench her arms free or keep from being propelled inside. “I’m ready to go downtown! Mr. Eddington!”
“You can call me, Ed.” He switched on a light. “Most people do.”
The little room had no windows. But the single bulb that hung from the ceiling revealed a table, several chairs, and an old metal file cabinet.
The men escorted Dee to a seat, after which the driver and one of the others went back outside.
One of the men who had ridden next to her took off his sunglasses and sat down while Eddington remained standing.
“I could write a letter of apology to the Strassgaard family,” Dee suggested.
“The Strassgaard family no longer exists,” Eddington replied. “They were wiped out in the war. The significance here is that the Strassgaard jewels—and we’re talking a collection that would run something in the vicinity of fifty million on today’s market—was last noted to be in the possession of a certain Heinrich Keller. A Nazi war criminal who was never apprehended. And, I might add, who is now known to have also been a Soviet agent.”
“A Soviet agent! Well, I…I never…” Dee looked from one face to another and then back to Eddington again. “Honestly, I didn’t know any of this about the ring, and I…I certainly didn’t know any of this about Peterson!”
“So, where is he?”
“He died. Several days ago. In Wyngate.”
“Maybe he did, and maybe he didn’t. We’ll have to check that out. Keller is what you might call a master at double identities. As an aide to Goering, he was a member of that elite circle and known to have the ring in his possession. Along with other things the old guy liked to bring along when he traveled. I don’t think I need to tell you, Dee, that your involvement with this fugitive puts you in the position of an accomplice.”
Dee gasped at the thought and was about to object. Eddington suddenly looked deadly serious.
“Withholding information,” he warned, “any information that might lead to his arrest or apprehension, is a crime against your country.”
He took a package of gum from the pocket of his black jacket and began to peel the green wrapper off as he talked. “Why did you leave Oregon so quick?”
“Well...” Dee faltered, “maybe I eloped.”
Eddington popped a piece of gum in his mouth, shook his head in disappointment, and sighed before looking her in the eye again. “What do you think we are here, stupid? If you’re just on some honeymoon cruise, then what are you doing on Goering’s boat?”
“I was under the impression that it was my boat, Mr. Eddington, because Peterson gave it to me.” Dee realized she was way out of her element and trying to match wits with someone who had started ten steps ahead of her.
“Goering once chartered that boat to entertain some high-up Nazi officials.” Eddington rolled the gum wrapper into little ball and tossed it into a nearby wastebasket. “It’s one of that town’s most popular rumors. Any history book will tell you he was a fanatic about fine jewels. Wore expensive rings. Was known to travel with a vase full of diamonds wherever he went. His aides would bring them to him for amusement on long journeys. He flaunted them everywhere. Heinrich Keller was one of those aides to Goering.”
“Peterson did say it had been chartered by wealthy Nazis, and he admitted taking the diamonds the last time they were there. Something he regretted most of his life, because he was always worried someone would catch up with him.”
No one spoke as she went on. “I don’t think he’s had any home but that boat for the last fifty years. If he was this Keller person you’re talking about, would he have drawn so much attention to himself as a sportsman and adventurer? Arctic expeditions, mountain climbing…hardly the sort of recognition someone in hiding would pursue.”
“Or a very brilliant one.” He pulled out a chair and sat down across from her. “Do you always accept such expensive presents from wealthy gentlemen? You’re not saying you became so infatuated with this eighty-some-year-old man that you eloped with him?”
“Good heavens, no!”
“I didn’t think so. What you became infatuated with, Dee, was fifty million dollars in diamonds. But who could blame you?”
“There’s no law against treasure hunting, Mr. Eddington.”
“No, there sure isn’t. And as long as you and your party stay within the law…well, shoot, I guess you’re as free to treasure hunt as the next person.”
“That’s all I thought I was doing, so what’s your point?”
“The point is, we’d like to make a little deal with you.”
“On the fifty million?” she gasped.
“No, ma’am. Making that kind of deal under the pretenses of an arrest, now that would be a felony, wouldn’t it?”
“I should think so.”
“Sure it is. And I might remind you that it is also a felony to bribe a federal officer with that kind of offer, too.”
“But I didn’t make any offers! You were the one who—”
“I’m willing to overlook it this time. You willing to overlook it, Ren?” His partner nodded slightly to signify approval.
“See,” Eddington went on, “we’re all in agreement. Now, let’s get down to business.”
“Business about what?” Dee began to feel panicked again. “You’re putting words in my mouth and I won’t have it! I’m not going to say anything else without a lawyer present. I believe that’s one of those rights you didn’t tell me about. I’m allowed to have a lawyer, aren’t I?”
He gave a wide smile. “You’re a smart enough woman to figure out this little interrogation is unofficial, aren’t you?”
“Lord help me...” she closed her eyes for a moment and took a deep breath. “Are you police officers or aren’t you?”
“You saw our identification.”
“Not very well, I didn’t.”
“Then we’ll show it to you again. Get your badge out, Ren, we’re making the lady nervous, I can see that right now.”
Dee scrutinized their badges a little longer than necessary since she wasn’t sure she could tell a real one from a fake. “Federal Bureau of Investigation...you expect me to believe this is your downtown office?”
“It’s just a convenient place to talk, Dee. As I said before, this meeting here is unofficial. You surfaced with a notorious piece of evidence that has been linked with an international criminal, known to have been operating within our jurisdiction. Now, we can either take you downtown and arrest you on charges of grand theft and espionage, or...”
Dee went faint under the impact of the words.
“Or, you can agree to cooperate.” He leaned his forearms on the table and brought his head so close that she could smell the mint in his chewing gum. “So, which is it going to be?”
15
Surveillance
“We stood…shivering in the damp, chilly air, and looking in the gray fog like uneasy spirits.” ~ Nellie Bly
It was almost dark when Dee was dropped off at the Berkley Marina.
By that time, the air was cool, with a heavy salt-scented fog that reduced all the boats to ghost-like shadows. Somewhere out on the bay, the long doleful moan of a buoy whistle made a sound that started a ripple of chill over her bare arms. She wished she had a sweater for the long walk out to the transient dock where
Pandora
was tied. Instead, she folded her arms, bowed her head, and hurried down the ramp to the main dock, where she suddenly ran into Hawkins on his way up.
“Where the devil have you been?” he asked, unable to hide the edge of concern in his voice. “Marion came back so hysterical Starr had to force a double scotch down her. Are you all right?”
“I am now.”
He looked her over intently, as if to make sure. Then he took his black windbreaker off and draped it over her shoulders as they continued down the ramp. “What happened?”
“I got picked up by the FBI.”
He stopped suddenly.
“Listen”—she turned back to him—”it’s a long story, but—uh-oh, they’re still up there.”
“Who?”
Before he could turn to look, she threw her arms around his neck. “Oh, Hawk, act like you missed me! I let them think we...”
“Dee Parker,” he spoke the name with such pent-up frustration, she thought he was going to yell. “Do not tell me you lied to the FBI!” But he circled her waist in an answering embrace and fairly lifted her off her feet in repressed anger. “Or I swear, I will...”
“They knew about the diamonds and the boat!”
“There’s no law against what we’re doing here. Why couldn’t you just tell the truth?”
“Don’t squeeze me so hard!” She pushed away from him, thought better of it and linked her arm in his as they started walking again. “The evidence was so incriminating against me, and they had me in a corner.”