Текст книги "Заговор мечей"

Автор книги: Джейн Doy Press

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Текущая страница: 25 (всего у книги 40 страниц)

“Yeah. I’ll be fine. David knows —” Alex stopped herself, her eyes closing in pain. “Let me get some more caffeine, and I’ll be fine.”

Teren nodded. “You know there’s a Coke machine in a side corridor.”

“Are the sodas cold? I’d heard that Europeans aren’t big on cold drinks.”

“They’ve gotten used to us Yankees and our odd ways. I’m sure the machine is cold.”

Alex stood. “Great. Where did you say it was?”

Teren pointed. “Back that way, then turn down that small hall near the restrooms.”

“Thanks.”

Alex walked away, and Teren sighed. She ran a hand through her hair, and then rubbed her cheeks.

It was going to take a while, she knew. She and Alex had been tossed together without warning, and it had happened at a time when Alex had a huge emotional load on her. Teren was still trying to relearn how to relate to people, and she recognized that at times she was probably less than supportive. She wanted to be. But she didn’t know how.

Both of them had lost their partners. Teren didn’t think either of them was ready for a new one. Yet, neither of them had a choice. It was either work together or risk losing everything.

It didn’t help that they were attracted to each other. This case was going to be hard enough, and adding in the strained emotions because of the ambush just made everything worse. And when you threw sex into the mix …

Alex interrupted Teren’s musings by dropping into the seat next to her. She held out a can of Coke to the dark haired woman.

“Thought you might want one.”

“Thanks.”

They were silent for a of couple minutes. Alex cleared her throat a few times, but didn’t say anything. Finally, she turned to Teren.

“I’m sorry. I tend to be a bitch when I get this tired.”

“No problem. I’ll just try to remember to get more caffeine into you.”

They gave each other a half smile, then stood as their flight was announced.

“You ready?” Teren asked.

“Sure. Let’s get this over with.” Alex picked up her jacket and her briefcase. “Did I ever tell you that I hate flying?”

Teren stopped and looked at her. “No, you didn’t. Do you really?”

“Well, no, flying itself isn’t so bad,” Alex said. Teren waited, her eyebrow raised. “It’s the take offs and landings that I hate .”

Teren shook her head. “Come on, then. Let’s get this next take off over with.”

“My feeling exactly.”

The plane had just pushed back from the gate when Alex thought of something.

“Teren?”

“Yeah?”

“I can’t speak French.”

Teren glanced at her. “That’s too bad.”

“Don’t they speak French in Switzerland?”

“In some places. Zurich is much more of a German town, though.”

“I can’t speak German either.”

Teren grinned. “Guess that means I get to order dinner, right?”

“Can you speak German?”

“Yes.”

“Figures.”

“And French. And Spanish.”

Alex glared at her. “Yes, but can you speak Yiddish or read Hebrew?”

Teren shook her head. “No. But I also know Greek and a little Latin.”

“Does the CIA require that you know Greek?”

“No, I picked that one up from my father.”

“Oh.”

“But the Agency did require that I learn French, German and Spanish.”

“And the Latin?”

Teren shrugged. “Something different in high school.”

Alex nodded and looked out the window. They were on the runway.

“I could teach you French or German, if you wanted.”

Alex nodded again. “Okay. And I’ll teach you Hebrew. Deal?”

“Deal.”

The plane lifted from the ground and Alex’s grip on Teren’s hand tightened.

*******************************************************

The sky in Zurich was clear, but it was icy cold and there was a chill wind in the air. Alex shivered as she followed Teren to their rental car. Already she was wishing she could speak German, as Teren and the car rental agent had had a conversation that she thought was much longer than necessary. It didn’t help that the agent was a young woman with bright blue eyes and perfect skin, or that she had been smiling at Teren.

Alex shook her head. Disgusting, she thought. What is up with this jealousy crap?

She was brought out of her thoughts by Teren abruptly stopping. Alex almost walked into her.

“Sorry.”

“No problem. Hand me your bag.”

They loaded the suitcases into the trunk of the BMW, and Teren got behind the wheel.

“Do you know where you’re going?” Alex asked. “Wait, let me guess. You’ve been here before, right?”

Teren started the car. “Well, as a matter of fact, I have. Perry and I met with several people here.”

“Anything you can tell me about?”

“Not really.”

“You’re no fun.”

Teren grinned.

“So, where are we staying?”

Teren glanced into the rear view mirror and switched lanes. “The Hilton Airport. It’s close by, and has an excellent restaurant.”

Alex’s stomach chose that moment to growl. She turned red and covered her face. Teren laughed.

“I knew airline food wasn’t going to keep you satisfied.”

Alex dropped her hand from her face. “You should talk, Miss I’d-like-another-bag-of-peanuts-please.”

“Oh, come on, those things are so tiny you could inhale them.”

“You should know, you inhaled yours, mine, the one that woman in the strange purple shirt gave you, and you even thought of asking for a fourth.”

“Yeah, well, at least I didn’t fall asleep in the restroom.”

Alex turned bright red, and glared. “You said you wouldn’t bring that up.”

“I won’t. When there’re other people around.”

Alex continued to glare. “You are such a brat.”

“Yep. Be happy, at least I didn’t ask that nice stewardess in London for a set of pilot’s wings.”

Alex rolled her eyes. Teren turned into the hotel parking lot.

“Don’t they have valet parking?”

“Nope. Not many places in Europe do. Doesn’t matter, really. I wouldn’t use it even if they did.”

“Why not?”

Teren shook her head. “Rule number one: Never use valet parking. If you need to make a quick exit, you won’t have time to wait for your car.”

Alex nodded. “That makes sense. What’s rule number two?”

“Make sure chatty blondes get their own rooms.”

“Oh, hah.”

Teren had actually gotten them a suite, with two bedrooms. They were on the third floor, with a view of the parking lot.

Alex spent a few minutes unpacking, then joined Teren in the front room.

“What’s the plan for the rest of today?”

Teren was thumbing through a phone book.

“First, lunch. Then a nap. I’m not over the jet lag, and I know you’re not. We won’t be much good if we’re so tired we can’t think straight.”

Teren didn’t look up at first, but the silence made her glance around for Alex. The blonde woman was at the window looking down, and Teren could tell there was a sadness, and a guilty look in her eyes.

The dark woman sighed and put the directory down. She moved to stand behind Alex, placing her hands on her friend’s shoulders. “Still feeling guilty, Alex?”

Alex took a deep breath, holding it for several seconds before letting it out. “I was so tired that night. David and I didn’t get in ‘til past one in the morning, and we had an early meeting. I was about to crash when Rick called to say Brogan wanted to talk. I tried to wake up, but I —” she stopped. “Maybe if I had insisted on waiting —”

Teren turned Alex around, keeping a firm hold on her upper arms. “You listen to me, Alex. You were not, and are not, to blame for David’s injury. It wouldn’t have mattered if you had waited, or if you had been more awake, or if you had insisted on a different location. Whatever you decided to do, the ambush would have happened, regardless.”

“But – but I should-”

“No, Alex. You couldn’t have changed a thing. Not one thing. And you want to know why?”

Alex nodded.

“Because it was a set up from start to finish. Someone who was in on your plan tipped off the shooters, and no matter what you did, that wasn’t going to change.” Teren sighed and let go of Alex. She ran a hand through her shortened hair. “It’s the only thing that makes sense. There are just too many coincidences for it to be anything else.”

Alex dropped her chin to her chest. “I don’t want to believe you.”

“You want to keep blaming yourself?”

“No. I don’t want to believe that a cop, or a fellow agent switched sides.”

Teren nodded and turned away. “I know the feeling.”

The pain in Teren’s voice brought Alex out of her daze. “Teren?”

“Hm?”

“You offered to listen if I needed to talk, right?”

“Yes,” Teren said as she turned back to her friend.

“That goes both ways, you know.”

The two of them stared at each other for a moment, then both nodded.

Teren sat back down on the couch and waved a hand at her blonde companion. “Come on. I need to find a number, and you need to decide what to order for lunch.”

“I thought you were ordering because I can’t read the menu?” Alex folded a leg beneath her as she joined Teren on the sofa.

“That’s tonight. But the hotel is used to having foreign, especially American, guests, so they have pictures on the menu, and they all correspond to a number. Usually, whoever’s taking room service orders knows at least a little English, so if you just give them the number you want, you shouldn’t have a problem.”

“Cool. Why can’t I do that tonight?”

“Because I’d like to eat at a real restaurant. And their menu won’t have pictures.” Teren grinned at her. “Which means I could order anything for you, and you wouldn’t know what it was.”

“You wouldn’t.”

The grin got wider.

Alex frowned. “Suddenly I don’t feel like going out tonight.”

Teren laughed.

Chapter Twenty-four

Alex woke from her nap to the sound of Teren’s voice in the next room. She couldn’t undersand the conversation, but she could tell from the strident tones that her friend was having an argument with someone.

She shook her head to clear the last of the sleep images from her mind. Once again she had been plagued with dreams of death and blood, and David’s bleeding body. Alex rubbed her eyes, wondering just how long it would be before the dreams left her alone.

“If this keeps up, I’ll never get any rest,” she mumbled aloud. “Wonder if I can talk Teren into letting me sleep with her?”

Alex had to laugh at herself.

After pulling on her jeans and a fresh t-shirt, she joined Teren in the common room. The tall agent was pacing back and forth in front of the couch, her cell phone in one hand, and a ball point pen in the other. The pen made an irritating clicking noise as Teren pressed its button again and again.

“Nein, es kann nicht noch ein bi?chen warten. Ich mu? jetzt sofort mit ihm sprechen. Ja, ich bestehe darauf.” Teren hesitated a moment in her pacing, noticing Alex watching her from the bedroom door. “Es ist mir egal, ob er in einer Besprechung ist oder nicht. Sagen Sie ihm, es sei dringend.” She gave a nod to Alex and turned to pace again. “Ja, mein Name ist Olind. Vielen Dank.”

Teren turned back to Alex, moving the mouthpiece of the phone away from her. “Hey, you’re awake.”

“Yeah. Who are you yelling at?”

“The bank. Get dressed. It’s past four and we have an appointment at five-fifteen.”

“Where?”

“The Altbusser Galerie.”

“Jeans aren’t a good idea I take it?”

“Well, I don’t think a dress is necessary, but —” she brought the phone back to its original position.

” Herr Meinhard? Frau Olind am Apparat. Mir wurde gesagt, Sie konnten mir helfen. Ich habe mit der Kontonummer 13-C-13 zu tun.” She waited, the pen still clicking in her hand “Herr Meinhard? This is Ms. Olind. I believe you can help me. I’m involved with account number 13-C-13.” She waited, the pen still clicking in her hand.

The man on the other end of the line cleared his throat. She could hear him telling his secretary to wait outside.

” Frau Ohlind. Es ist schon einige Zeit her, da? mich jemand mit dieser Kontonummer angerufen hat.” “Ms. Olind. It has been a long time since someone with that account called me.”

” Das habe ich mir schon gedacht. Ich wurde Sie nicht bemuhen, wenn es nicht so wichtig ware.” “I realize that. I wouldn’t involve you if it wasn’t important.”

“Ich wei? nicht…” “I’m not really sure —”

” Herr Meinhard, Carl Nestor schickt mich.” “Herr Meinhard, Carl Nestor said I should talk to you.”

” Ah. Wie geht es ihm?” “Ah. How is Carl?”

“Als ich ihn vor ein paar Tagen zum letzten Mal gesehen habe, ging es ihm gut.” “Good. I saw him just a few days ago.”

“Ist er immer noch so durr wie eine Bohnenstange?” “Is he still as thin as a beanpole?”

Teren chuckled. ” Wir wissen beide, da? Carl noch nie schlank war. Er ist so mollig wie immer.” Teren chuckled. “You and I both know that Carl was never thin. He’s still as round as ever.”

Herr Meinhard laughed. “Gut. Wie kann ich Ihnen helfen, Frau Olind?” Herr Meinhard laughed. “Good. Now, how can I help you, Ms. Olind?”

” Ich mu? unbedingt noch heute abend mit Ihnen reden. Es ist wichtig. Kommen Sie doch mit uns zum Essen.” “I need to meet with you this evening. It’s important. Join us for dinner.”

” Wohin?” “Where?”

“Suchen Sie ein Restaurant aus. Eins mit viel Publikumsverkehr und gutem Essen.” “You choose. Just make it fairly public, and with good food.”

“Zunfthaus zur Krone?” “Zunfthaus zur Krone?”

” Das hort sich gut an.” “Fine.”

“Um welche Zeit?” “Time?”

“Sieben Uhr. Reservieren Sie fur drei Personen unter Ihrem Namen.” “Seven o’clock. Make the reservation for three people, and put it under your name.”

” Drei? Ich nehme an, sie bringen noch jemanden mit?” “Three? I take it you’re bringing a partner with you?”

Teren hesitated a moment, biting her lip. “Ja.” Teren hesitated a moment, biting her lip. “Yes, I am.”

“Gut. Konnen Sie andeuten, um was es sich handelt?” “Fine. May I ask just a hint of what this is about?”

“Heute abend, Herr Meinhard.” “Tonight, Herr Meinhard.”

“Naturlich. Ich sehe Sie dann um sieben.” “Of course. I will see you at seven.”

“Bis dann.” “Good.”

She hung up and turned to Alex who was still patiently waiting.

“After the gallery , we have a dinner date at seven.”

“Semi-formal for both?”

“Yeah. You should wear those heels we bought you.”

“Why aren’t the flats good enough? I wear them to the office.”

“Yes, and they scream ‘police’ whenever you put them on.”

“So, you’d rather have me in stilts?”

Teren grinned. “I would think you’d like wearing heels, Alex. After all, with your hei—”

“Don’t —” Alex interrupted, “say it. Just don’t even go there.” She turned to go change, but stopped and looked back. “Teren?”

“Yes?”

“You remember we once discussed kickboxing?”

“Uh-huh.”

“If you don’t stop playing with that pen, we’re going to have a match right now.”

Teren looked at her hand, where she had continued clicking the pen’s button. She stopped, and tossed the pen on the coffee table.

“Thank you.” Alex winked at her and left the room.

Teren grinned to herself. “I know what it means if she winks, but are threats good or bad?” She chuckled, and headed for her own bedroom.

*******************************************************

The gallery was actually three businesses in one. The ground floor of the building was an antique shop, which appeared to specialize in knick-knacks and small statues. The second level was where one could order a copy of a famous work, whether on canvas or in stone. The third floor held the actual art gallery where collectors or artists could put their works on display.

Teren led Alex across to the staircase.

“We’re heading for the reprints area on the second floor. I don’t know if the guy speaks English or not – it’s an international business though, so he might.”

“Sure you want me along for this? If he doesn’t speak English I’m not going to be able to contribute much to the conversation.”

Teren put a hand on the railing, and peered back at her companion. “Would you rather not join me for this one?”

Alex’s attention was split between Teren, and the antiques she could see. “I wonder if we could kind of kill two birds at once, you know? You head upstairs, and I’ll check out the first floor.”

“Alex?”

“Yes?” She turned to see Teren grinning.

“Don’t say kill, okay?”

Alex grinned back. “Right. Sorry.”

“What’s so interesting on the first floor?”

“Antiques. You know, kind of like what we found in Colorado, maybe?”

Teren raised her head, and nodded slowly. “Gotcha. Then why don’t you look around, and I’ll meet our friend upstairs.”

“I’ll be here when you’re done.”

Alex watched her friend climb the rest of the stairs. She couldn’t resist staring just a little at Teren’s backside. When she realized what she was doing, Alex blushed and turned away.

She wandered for several minutes among the cases, examining different items. Most were small statuettes, figurines of all kinds. A few had small cards beside them, obviously talking about their history, or listing a price. Alex, however, could read very little of it. Dates and prices were obvious but the rest was gibberish.

There was one case in particular that caught her eye. While most of the figurines in the shop were ceramic, these were mostly silver, and even a few gold. The dates were older than most of the other items as well, dating from the turn of the nineteenth century or earlier. One of them was a silver crucifix, on a circular base.

Alex was certain she’d seen a picture of it on the internet.

She reached out and picked up the statue, examining the figure. The detail was exquisite.

A movement at her elbow startled Alex. She looked up to find an old man with a short beard beside her. He smiled at her, and adjusted his spectacles.

“Wunderschon, nicht wahr?” he said.

“I’m sorry, I don’t speak German,” Alex answered. She placed the statue back on the shelf.

“I am sorry, I did not realize you were American.” The old man extended his hand. “My name is Rolf. I work here in the store.”

“Hi.” Alex took his hand, and was surprised to find hers lifted to his lips. He gently kissed the back of her hand. “I’m Andrea.” She felt proud that she remembered her false name.

“I am very pleased to meet you, Andrea.” Rolf placed the accent on the second syllable of the name. “I asked if you did not find the statue beautiful?”

“Oh, it’s very lovely. I’m glad you speak English, Rolf. I was wondering about it’s history.”

“Our research on the piece is not yet finished, but we belive it was made in Austria in the late eighteen hundreds. If my hunch is right, this piece is from a Vienese sculptor who worked around the eighteen-eighties, and eventually died as a result of the Franco-Prussian war.”

“Really. You know, I thought I’d seen a picture of this piece, but I guess that’s not possible, is it?”

Rolf shrugged. “Of course it is always possible, but I am not sure where you would have seen the picture. The item was locked away in a closet for many, many years.”

“Why? It’s so beautiful, why not display it?”

“I do not know. It came to us by way of a young German lad.”

“Did he say where he’d gotten it from?”

“From his father. It was locked away, along with several other treasures. The boy inherited them all when his father died.” Rolf shook his head. “I could not believe it, he did not even know what he had. He simply wanted money.”

Alex turned fully to look at Rolf. “Did he move here?”

“No, I believe he returned to Munich.”

“I don’t understand; why would he come all the way to Switzerland to sell a piece of art? Seems to me he probably could have gotten just as much money in Germany, without the cost of the travel, don’t you think?”

Rolf glanced around, then leaned forward slightly. “This was not the only piece he sold us. There were others, and some of them are illegal to sell in Germany.”

Alex frowned, and folded her arms. Her voice dropped, as Rolf’s had. “Why would they be illegal?”

Rolf eyed her carefully. “The items carry a mark that was outlawed in Germany after 1945.” He raised an eyebrow.

After a moment’s thought, Alex nodded. “I understand. Nazi memorabilia, right?”

A slight nod.

“Do you sell Nazi memorabilia, Rolf?”

He shook his head. “I will not sell such things. When the boy told me his father had been a Nazi SS officer, I felt like throwing him out of the store.” He looked over at the silver crucifix. “But some of the things he brought to me, these should not be thrown out because they were held in the hands of a demon.”

Rolf reached up and stroked the base of the work. “It is so beautiful, no?”

Alex nodded. “It is.” She waited for a moment, biting her lip.

“I do not sell Nazi items, but there are others, here, that buy them.” He shrugged. “I just work here. I am in charge of the first floor, and they keep me because I know antiques. But if I could …” his voice trailed off.

“Rolf, can you tell me about the boy? What was his name?”

Rolf raised his head. “Andrea, do not tell me you are interested in the Nazis?”

“Well, no, not in the way you think. But as a student of history,” she decided to take a gamble here, “who’s grandparents died in Buchenwald, I would like to speak to him about his father. I have a tough time understanding the reasons behind the whole war.”

Rolf didn’t look at her. Instead, he focused his attention on the statue, his fingers resting on the feet of the crucified figure. After a moment he seemed to make a decision, and gave himself a slight nod.

“A moment, and I will look for the book. It will have his name and address, as well as what we bought from him.”

Alex frowned. “You did buy the Nazi items?”

“I did not. But I alerted my superior, and he purchased them.” Rolf looked ill for a moment. “He was so, so, nice, and pleasant, and told the boy his father was a hero.” His mouth twisted into a sick smile. “I think the boy was almost as disgusted as I was.” He motioned her to follow him. “I will find the book. Wait here.”

Alex watched as he ducked behind a curtain. She glanced around, wondering if Teren’s interview was going as well as her own was.

*******************************************************

Teren was waiting for a customer to leave. The person she needed to speak to was helping an older woman who was trying to decide what statue would best go in her garden. Everytime she appeared to have made up her mind, she’d change it again, and Teren was beginning to get frustrated.

Finally, the woman decided on The Thinker by Rodan, and she sat down with another person to fill out paperwork. Teren had a feeling she’d probably change her mind at least once more, so she interrupted as soon as the woman was seated.

“Kann ich Ihnen helfen?” “Yes, can I help you?”

“Mein Name ist Fleming. Ich habe einen Termin bei Herrn Keppelmann.” “My name is Ms. Fleming, and I have an appointment with Herr Keppelmann.”

“Ich bin Herr Keppelmann. Wenn ich mich richtig erinnere, wollten Sie mit mir uber ein paar Kopien sprechen, die ich fur einen Freund von Ihnen angefertigt habe? ” “I am Herr Keppelmann. I believe you wanted to speak about some copies that were made for a friend of yours?”

“Genau. Fur John Treville.” “That’s correct. John Treville.”

Keppelmann eyed her.“Und die Kopien waren von was genau?” Keppelmann eyed her. “And what copies would those be?”

“Den zwei Kelchen. Ich meine, einer sei von Guignard gewesen?” “The two chalices. I believe one was by Guignard?”

Keppelmann glanced around, then motioned for her to follow him. He led her back into an area of the storage room, and through it to an office. When they got there, Keppelmann motioned for her to close the door. She didthen turned to face him.

“Hat Treville Ihnen eine Kopie des Guignard gezeigt?” “Treville showed you a copy of the Guignard?”

“Nein, das Original. Er hat ihn verkauft.” “No, I saw the Guignard itself. He sold it.”

Keppelmann dropped into his seat. “Er hat ihn verkauft?” Keppelmann dropped into his seat. “He sold it?”

“Um ehrlich zu sein, er hat ihn verschenkt. An irgendeinen Heruntergekommenen in Colorado.” Teren sat in the chair across from him. “Er hat allerdings auch den zweiten Kelch verkauft. An jemanden namens Mather.” “Well, actually he gave it away. To some stupid man in Colorado, who lived in a one room hovel.” Teren sat in the chair across from him. “Of course, he also gave away a second chalice, to some man named Mather.”

“Und woher wissen Sie das?” “And how do you know all this?”

“Na ja, Mather hat versucht, den Kelch weiter zu verkaufen.” She smiled. “Man hat mich gebeten herauszufinden, ob es wirklich das Original ist, das er besitzt. Er behauptet, da? es das Original sei, aber die Korrespondenz zwischen Ihrer Firma und Trevill behauptet, es sei die Kopie.” “Well, Mather tried to sell his chalice.” She smiled.“I was asked to look into the validity of his claim. He said it was real, but the invoice between your company and Treville said it was a copy.”

Keppelmann folded his hands on his desk. “Darf ich fragen, fur wen Sie arbeiten?” Keppelmann folded his hands on his desk. “May I ask who you work for, Ms. Fleming?”

She leaned forward. “Ich arbeite fur jemanden, der den Kelch kaufen will, und womoglich auch an weiteren Objekten interessiert ist. Er ist sehr reich und schatzt es gar nicht,” she paused, “betrogen zu werden. Er ist der Meinung, der Guignard sei echt, aber er wurde gerne wissen, wo er herkommt.Also hat er mich hier hergeschickt, um mir Ihre Bucher anzusehen.” She leaned forward. “I work for a person who wants to buy the chalice, and perhaps other items.He is a very wealthy man, who does not like to be,” she paused, “cheated.He believes the Guignard, at least, to be authentic, but would like to know where it came from. So, he sent me to look at your paperwork.”

Keppelmann cleared his throat. “Ich denke Sie wissen, was in den Buchern steht.”

Keppelmann cleared his throat. “I think you know what my paperwork will say, Ms. Fleming.”

“Da? der Guignard eine Kopie ist.” “It will say the Guignard is a copy.”

“Nein. Offiziell gab es keine Geschafte zwischen Treville und der Galerie.” “No. It will say there was never a sale between Treville and the Galerie.”

Teren nodded. “Aha.” She leaned back in her chair. “Tja, dann haben wir wohl ein Problem. Sehen Sie, die Kopie des Lieferscheins wurde von Ihnen unterzeichnet, genau wie die Zollpapiere.” This time the smile showed the white of her teeth. “Und ich habe die Originale.” Teren nodded. “I see.” She leaned back in her chair. “Well, then, we have a problem. See, the copy of the invoice was signed by you, as was the customs paperwork.” This time the smile showed the white of her teeth. “And I have the originals.”

The man’s face had lost its color, and Teren could almost feel the nervous energy coming from him. He fidgeted, his hands unable to stay still. Teren, on the other hand, sat like a statue, smiling, with her arms stretched out on the arms of the chair. She knew she didn’t have the originals, but he didn’t know that.

Finally, he glanced up at her. “Was wollen Sie von mir?” Finally, he glanced up at her. “What do you want, Ms. Fleming?”

“Ihre Quelle. Ich will wissen, wo die Kelche herkommen.” “I want your source. I want to know where the two chalices came from.”

Keppelmann tugged at his shirt collar. “Ich glaube nicht —” Keppelmann tugged at his shirt collar. “I’m not sure —”

Teren was out of her chair and half way across his desk before he realized she’d moved. She planted her hands wide apart on his desk, and leaned in close to him.

“Sie, mein Lieber, werden mir sagen was ich wissen will, oder Sie passen am Ende dieses Gesprachs in eine Ihrer Schreibtischschubladen. Anschlie?end werde ich die Polizei verstandigen und dann,” her smile turned feral, “dann werde ich Treville anrufen.Wie lang glauben Sie la?t er Sie am Leben, wenn er herausfindet, da? Sie ihm nur Kopien verkauft haben?” “You, Mr. Keppelmann, will tell me what I want to know, or I will make you fit into one of your desk drawers.Then, I will call the authorities, and then,” her smile turned feral, “then I will call Treville.How long do you think you’ll live when he finds out you’ve been sending him copies?”

The man’s eyes stood out in stark contrast to the whiteness of his face. An area near his eye twitched, and his breath was coming very fast.

“Ich habe keine Ahnung, wovon Sie sprechen.” “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Schon klar. Vielleicht glaubt er Ihnen ja. Vielleicht,” she paused, “aber auch nicht.” She waited for a reaction, and then took a chance. “Was wurde wohl passieren, wenn er sie alle von Experten untersuchen lassen wurde?” “Right. Maybe he’ll believe you. And then again,” she paused, “maybe he won’t.” She waited for a reaction, and then took a chance. “I wonder what would happen if he chose to have them all examined by experts?”

When Keppelmann wouldn’t meet her eyes, Teren knew she was right. At least some of the items Keppelmann had shipped to Treville had indeed been fakes.

“Sie haben genau drei?ig Sekunden, Herr Keppelmann.” “You have thirty seconds, Mr. Keppelmann.”

It took less than ten for him to nod. “Ich gebe Ihnen Namen und Adresse.” It took less than ten for him to nod. “I’ll give you the name and address.”

“Danke.” Teren stepped back and resumed her seat in the chair. “Thank you.” Teren stepped back and resumed her seat in the chair.

Keppelmann, his eye still twitching, brought out a book from his desk drawer. He flipped through it. Looking even more flustered, he closed it.

“Ich scheine das falsche Buch hierzuhaben. Das Richtige ist wohl unten bei Herrn Wudin.” “It, ah, seems I have the wrong book. I believe the book I’m looking for is downstairs with Mr. Wudin.”

Teren stood. “Dann sollten wir uns wohl nach unten begeben und es finden, oder?” Teren stood. “Then perhaps we should go find it, shouldn’t we?”

Keppelmann nodded, and stood. He led the way from the office, trying to keep one eye on Teren, which wasn’t easy to do since she was behind him. Teren stifled her laughter when he nearly tripped for the third time.

They went down a back staircase, and through another storage area. Keppelmann stopped at another desk, and looked through the drawers. When he couldn’t find what he was looking for, he began stuttering, and searching through stacks of papers, his eyes wide. Finally, Teren had had enough.

She put a hand on his shoulder, and he jumped, giving a short cry. She mentally rolled her eyes.

“Was ist los, Herr Keppelmann?” “What’s the problem, Mr. Keppelmann?”

“Es tut mir leid, Frau Fleming, aber ich kann das Buch mit den Lieferanten nicht finden.” He managed to get the whole sentence out without stuttering. “I’m sorry, Ms. Fleming, I seem to be having trouble locating the book with our suppliers names.” He managed to get the whole sentence out without stuttering.