Amber

Chapter 21

George Wagner exited the thrift shop wearing his new tweed jacket, a fedora, and, more importantly, carrying his new bag. He wasn’t a fan of man-purses, but needed something large enough to fit the amber clock, and a briefcase was too slim. He’d considered duffel bags or backpacks, but decided that they looked out of place for him and would only draw attention to the fact that he was carrying something large and cumbersome.

Stopping at the store cost him time, but he couldn’t very well be seen waltzing around town carrying a lost treasure out in the open, now could he? He was tempted to call a cab, but decided against it. Phone calls and being seen by drivers would leave a bigger footprint if and when anyone came looking for him. He would walk across town to his car, and then get the hell out of the city. He had everything he needed.

He glanced across the street and then to the left before turning right and heading up the sidewalk with purpose. He passed a sidewalk cafe crowded with patrons. One of them, a man sitting by himself reading a newspaper, looked up at him and then flagged down a server. Wagner didn’t recognize the man. Is he asking for the check so he can leave to follow me? Did he recognize me?

The historian put a little more pep into his step, but not so much that he would seem suspicious, a past-his-prime man in ordinary street clothes speed-walking through town. He certainly wasn’t known for any kind of regular exercise. A half-block later he turned to look back and there was the man from the table, now standing on the sidewalk and looking in his direction. He’s following me!

Wagner nearly panicked and broke into a run, but a door opened in front of him, some kind of business on his right, and he stepped inside to whatever it might be. He was horrified to hear someone call his name.

“Afternoon, Mr. Wagner, and how are you today?”

Wagner turned to look at the proprietor of the shop, and realized he had turned right into his dry cleaners. His cheeks flushed with embarrassment at being caught so unawares. “Ah, hello, Gertrude! I’m well enough indeed, and yourself?” Wagner quickly turned away from the shopkeeper to glance out the window even though he knew there was no way the man from the cafe could have gotten here yet.

“I’m as good as an old woman can be. I wasn’t expecting you for a couple of more days, but I do believe most of your things are ready. Give me one minute, I’ll check… ” The woman doddered off into the back room of the business. Wagner cursed his bad luck. He actually had garments in here to be cleaned and now he was going to have to carry them around or appear most strange indeed.

He was debating whether he should simply leave the shop now, but thought the man from the cafe—my tail—was probably about to reach the dry cleaners, if he’d been walking this way.

“And here we are!” The dry cleaner came out from the back and hung several plastic-bagged garments from a rack on the counter. “You have six in but only these four are ready now. Next time if you let me know you need a rush… ”

“It’s quite all right, Gertrude. I’ll take these now and come back for the rest.” Wagner paid the woman and collected his clothes. This might not be so bad a way to blend in after all, he thought, draping the clean articles over his newly acquired man-bag.

He exited the shop and immediately looked left, to see if the man from the cafe was in sight. But he was nowhere to be seen. Just as he turned right to continue down the sidewalk, a black four-door sedan with tinted windows pulled up to the curb, fast. The rear door opened and a man — not the one from the cafe- got out so quickly that it stunned Wagner like a deer in headlights. The individual was tall, fit, and sported close-cropped blonde hair with black sunglasses. He wore a leather trench coat.

“Come with us, please.”

“What? No!” But although his words protested, Wagner allowed himself to be wheeled around on the sidewalk by the man from the car, and then a second man, also very large and well built, was there, pulling on him with one hand while beckoning inside the car with the other. Both men were smiling. Wagner could not help but notice, most likely for the benefit of whoever might be witnessing this abduction. Just a couple of old friends trying to convince an always busy chum to come with them for a round at the pub.

Inside the car, Wagner was sandwiched between his two kidnappers as the driver, invisible behind a dark-tinted partition, accelerated out into traffic. “What — what’s going on?” Wagner stammered.

The man on his right, the slightly larger of the two and the first one who’d jumped out of the car to accost him, replied in German that was tinged with a Russian accent, although Wagner missed this nuance due to his adrenaline-spiked fear.

“What are you carrying?”

Wagner looked down at the clothes draped over his bag. “It’s just my dry cleaning! What is the meaning of this?”

The man on his left smiled. He too wore his hair closely cropped, almost buzzed, and wore sunglasses even though it wasn’t sunny out. He reached over to Wagner, lifted the clothing and tossed it onto the floor.

“Nice purse. Open it.”

Wagner’s face was crimson. He trembled with rage. “Who are you people?”

The man on the left grabbed the bag and held it in his lap while the one on the right placed a firm grip on Wagner’s right arm. Meanwhile the car had cleared traffic and now cruised at the speed limit out of town.

“We will be asking the questions today.” The man on the left pulled the amber clock from the bag and held it out for his associate to see.

“Exquisite!” Wagner’s captor on the left tore his gaze from the clock and made eye contact with him. He withdrew a neck knife that Wagner had mistaken for a necklace.

“Now… you will tell us everything you know.”