The Relic (23 page)

‘It says she suffered a concussion, but nothing serious,' he remarked. ‘The police are looking for the woman. Never mind about that, my dear. I've been looking forward to seeing you so much. You're looking so much better, you know.'

He leaned closer and lightly touched her hand. He let the contact lengthen; she didn't move away.

‘I'm fine,' she said. ‘Thanks to you, and all my friends. You know, Peter, everyone's been so good to me. I knew people thought so highly of Adolph. He was so clever, so successful, but I never realized they cared about me, too.'

He slipped his fingers round her palm and held it comfortingly. ‘You underestimate yourself. You're beautiful, charming and intelligent. And warm. Adolph was admired—he was quite awe-inspiring, too. But you are loved.'

‘The children have been very brave,' she said. She let him hold her hand. He was so kind, so steady. There was nothing sexual, she told herself. Just a warm hand holding hers.

‘You're sure you won't let me take you out to dinner? It would do you good,' he suggested again.

‘No, no.' She shook her head and the rich scent flowed towards him … But we can have a quiet dinner here, if you don't mind. If you won't be bored?'

It was a little flirtatious, she admitted that. But pleasing men was second nature to Eloise. She smiled and she lifted her eyelids at a man in a way that conveyed how attractive and interesting he was. It was a harmless habit and besides, she liked Peter Müller. He had beautiful, strong white teeth.

He squeezed her hand for a moment and then let it go. ‘You know I'm never bored when I'm with you. Now why don't I pour us a drink?'

‘Friedrich can do it,' she said.

‘I think I can manage,' he said, getting up. He didn't want the Brückner's butler coming in and out. He wanted her mellow with wine before dinner, and then he would advance a few more steps. Good food—they kept a marvellous table—more wine, and perhaps a little brandy.

An arm along the back of the sofa that could lightly rest upon her shoulders, a casual pressure of his thigh against hers. Instant retreat if she signalled he was going too far. He wasn't going to rush this. Planning her seduction was an excitement in itself. He would be patient, stalk her carefully right up to the bedroom door.

He poured Moselle for her, brushed fingers as he handed her the glass and looked into her eyes. He drank Scotch whisky. She once said she liked the smell. She was the kind of woman who convinced herself that she liked all the rich smells associated with men. Brandy, cigars. She told men this, with the lift and flutter of the eyelashes that was her trademark.

She used it now as she said, ‘It's so sweet of Susan to spare you tonight. I do hope she doesn't mind lending you for just one dinner. I've got so many problems at the moment.

‘Of course not,' Peter Müller said. ‘She's gone to see some Polish art film. You know the kind of thing, all black shadows and gloom. She's gone with a friend who likes that stuff. I couldn't sit through it. I like to be entertained, to be happy. And
you
must be happy, my dear. Adolph wouldn't want you shutting yourself away. All right, we dine here tonight and I'll help with any problems you want, but next time we go to the Hofburg!' He named the best restaurant in Munich.

Eloise smiled. ‘Just the three of us—that would be lovely.'

‘Just the three of us,' he echoed. He didn't mind. He knew she didn't mean it.

Dinner was excellent, as he anticipated. Eloise was an accomplished hostess and Adolph had expected perfection in his home. Looking round at the elegant dining room, waited on by the unobtrusive Friedrich, Peter Müller wondered what it would be like to live on such a scale, with so much money to make life as smooth as silk.

He and Susan lived well; their two sons in America wanted for nothing, but this lifestyle was majestic by comparison. He put the fleeting temptation aside, surprised that it had even occurred to him. He loved his sons and was fond of his wife. His plans were laid for retirement. Money and a house in the Caribbean sunshine—more than most spies, however successful, could dream of achieving at the end of their careers.

He was going to take Adolph's place in bed, but not at the head of his table by marrying the widow. No, that was a foolish fantasy, impractical. He set out to be amusing; he had a fund of anecdotes, some about people Eloise knew well. They were funny without being malicious. She laughed and encouraged him. He thought she looked maddeningly attractive, and emboldened by the fine claret, pressed his knee against hers under the table. She let it rest for longer than she should have done and then moved slightly away.

‘A wonderful dinner,' he declared as they left to take their coffee in her sitting room. ‘As always; you spoil me, Eloise. Now I want to spoil you in return. I want you to unload all your problems on me and let me take care of them. If I can.'

‘That would be wonderful,' she said.

He followed his plan, eased himself down beside her on the cushioned sofa and slid his arm along the back behind her. Her hair was drawn back, skilfully arranged to fall in loose waves from a gold clasp. It brushed the back of his hand.

‘My real problem is dear Adolph's collection,' she said.

He smiled at her. ‘Which collection? His pictures? The porcelain? There's so much, such priceless things.'

‘I know,' she sighed. ‘It'll take months and months to settle the estate. He was even richer than I thought. No, I shall keep the house exactly as it was; he'd want me to do that. What worries me is his Russian collection. It worries the lawyers, and the insurance company were always fussing about keeping it in a private house. The burglar-alarm system is a nightmare, just because of them. All those boxes and objects, and the early jewellery. Apart from the desk set. As you know, Peter, that's unique. Not another like it in the world!'

‘I do know,' he said. ‘Clocks and calendars, but not a matching set with the Imperial provenance.'

He had stopped thinking lewd thoughts; his mind was concentrated on what might be a perfect opportunity to obey Viktor Rakovsky's order.

‘They say,' Eloise went on, ‘that the value of the Russian works of art could make quite a difference to the total outcome, after taxes. And I must admit, I find the restrictions very boring. They're suggesting that I have a permanent security guard on duty, day and night, apart from an alarm system that would be more suitable to the Bundesbank than a private house! They wouldn't have dared lay down conditions like that to Adolph.'

‘You mustn't let them take advantage of you,' he said.

The steel flashed behind the velvety eyes. ‘Don't worry, I won't! They're not going to dictate to me just because Adolph's dead. In fact, the lawyers suggested something and I'm beginning to think it's a solution. It would put the insurers in their place as well. I want to ask you what you think of it.' She turned and looked at him. ‘Why don't I give the Russian collection to the Munich Museum of Fine Arts in Adolph's memory? The Adolph Brückner Bequest. Don't you think it sounds rather nice? Wouldn't he like that?'

Müller's expression of concern was only too genuine.

‘My dear Eloise—I don't know. Let me think a moment.' It was worth trying, but he didn't have high hopes. ‘From the moral point of view,' he said slowly. ‘There is an alternative. Everything Adolph bought was effectively stolen.'

‘Peter! You're not suggesting?…' She flushed with indignation.

‘No. No, my dear, of course I'm not linking Adolph with what I've just said. Let me explain what I mean. All those treasures were part of Russia's heritage. They were bartered for Western currency, sold by families desperate for money to buy food. Looted, smuggled out. It's one of the ugliest stories in the art world. I remember an old friend saying it was the rape of Russia's heritage.'

‘But you dealt in those things yourself,' she protested. ‘Two of our gold boxes came from you. The one from Catherine the Great to Potiemkin and the other one, the Orlov snuff box!'

‘I know,' he said gravely. ‘I was no better than anyone else. But I have thought about it ever since my old friend said that. Eloise, why don't you do something remarkable in Adolph's memory?'

‘What?' she said coldly.

‘Give the whole collection back to the people of Russia. It would cause a sensation. And set a great precedent.'

She didn't hesitate. She stared at him and he knew what the answer was going to be.

‘I wouldn't dream of it,' she said. ‘Adolph hated the Communists. Certainly
not
, Peter.'

No easy solution to his problem, he thought. He forgot about sex; he was angry instead. Nothing showed on his face.

‘If that's how Adolph felt, you're right, of course,' he said. ‘But don't be rushed in to giving such a priceless collection away till you've had plenty of time to think about it. The museum will accept it, no doubt about that. They'll jump at such an offer! I'm just wondering whether there's any connection between your lawyers and the museum itself? They don't act for the governing body, by any chance?'

‘I don't know,' Eloise frowned. It was a point Adolph would have made. He checked out everything. Check first and trust afterwards, he used to say to her.

Müller pressed the advantage. ‘It might be wise to find out,' he said. ‘Would you like me to make some enquiries?'

‘Yes,' she said. ‘Yes, if you can, that would be most helpful. If they are trying to use me to get something for the museum, then I shall think of something else. It doesn't have to be Munich.'

‘You know, I haven't had a look at the things for a long time,' Müller remarked. ‘I'd like to see everything again, refresh my memory. Then maybe I can advise you better. That's if we're not going to set off the alarm system!'

Eloise's mood had lifted. She laughed.

‘We'd have half the police force here in a few minutes if we did,' she said. ‘It's connected to all major stations throughout the city.'

Steal it if you have to
. Müller wished Viktor Rakovsky to a special place in hell. Let Moscow Centre try and organize a burglary and see what happened.

‘All right,' she said, ‘Let's look at it together. I haven't been into the room since Adolph died. I just went through the catalogues with those damned lawyers. He was so methodical, he kept everything documented and photographed. I wonder whether they
weren't
trying to get it for the museum. They have a lot of government work.'

Müller had sowed the dragon's teeth of doubt. Munich Museum of Fine Arts was unlikely to benefit now. Suspicion was inherent in the super rich. He followed Eloise out of the sitting room—she called it her boudoir, which he thought an affectation—and along the wide corridor towards the big first-floor room where the Brückners held their parties and the guests were able to admire his Russian art collection.

In the corridor, Eloise paused by a console table; a superb bluejohn vase with Louis XVI ormolu mounts was in the centre. An identical table and matching vase was a few yards further on.

‘This is the first switch,' she said. ‘There are three on this floor, just for the ballroom.'

She stopped by the table and pressed a carved and gilded flower head. It depressed a fraction.

‘That turns the first part of the system off,' she explained.

‘How clever,' Müller remarked. He had noted the flower head carefully. Third on the left of a larger floral carving. ‘Very ingenious.'

‘Adolph's idea,' she smiled at him. ‘He was so inventive. Now, it's the same here, only on the other side.'

She pressed another carved and gilded flower head on the second table. Third on the right of the larger flower group this time. He followed her as they approached the green-and-gold-painted double doors leading to the ballroom.

Eloise paused and said, ‘This is the last; it clears the system completely so we can open the door.'

Müller stopped. He said, ‘My dear, I don't think you should let anyone know what it is. Even me. I'll turn my back.'

‘Oh Peter, don't be so silly!' She was herself again, fluttering the melting look at him. ‘It's so brilliant I want you to see it. You know that's one of the reasons I loved Adolph so much. He had the most amazing brain. Look!'

It was a bronze elephant clock, complete with gilded howdah, and the clockface on its back. Eloise opened the glass case and adjusted the minute hand until both golden hands were on the twelve numeral. The clock chimed the hour.

‘Isn't that genius?' she demanded. ‘There's no clock mechanism in there, just the final switch for the ballroom system.'

‘Supposing someone moved the bronze?' Müller asked.

‘They couldn't,' she said. ‘it's bolted to the table and the table is secured to the floor. Now we can open the doors and go in.'

He remembered the first time he had come there, his first coveted invitation to the home of one of the richest men in West Germany. A client of enormous potential if he managed to hook him.

Eloise switched on the lights. The room was flooded with a soft illumination, cleverly directed at the Gobelin tapestries that lined one wall. He glanced up.

‘Ah,' he said, and meant it. ‘How beautiful that is!'

Brückner had bought the painted ceiling from Italy and had it fitted. Tiepolo no less, before the artist had commanded the fortune of the present day, but still a great deal of money, even twenty years ago, when Brückner renovated the old mansion and started filling it with treasures.

Together they walked across the carpet; a splendid Second Empire Aubusson which was always rolled up for the parties. At the far end, specially lit, Adolph Brückner's collection of Russian works of art sparkled in a glass display case. It always excited Müller to see them.