The Amber Room

THIRTY-THREE

Castle Loukov, Czech Republic

5:10 p.m.

Suzanne accepted the pewter goblet from Ernst Loring and wedged herself comfortably into an Empire chair. Her employer seemed pleased with the report.

She said, "I waited a half hour at the scene and left when the authorities started to arrive. No one emerged from the mine shaft."

"I will check with Fellner tomorrow on the pretense of something else. Perhaps he will say if something happened to Christian."

She sipped her wine, pleased with the day's activity. She'd driven straight from central Germany to Czech, crossing the border and speeding south to Loring's castle estate. The three hundred kilometers had been an easy two-and-a-half-hour trek in the Porsche.

"Very clever, maneuvering Christian like that," Loring said. "He is a difficult one to lead."

"He was too eager. But I have to say, Chapaev was quite convincing." She sipped more wine. The fruity vintage was Loring's own. "A shame. The old man was dedicated. He'd kept quiet a long time. Unfortunately, I had no choice but to silence him."

"It was good to leave the child unharmed."

"I don't kill children. He knew nothing more than what the other witnesses at the market would report. He was my leverage to get the old man to do what I wanted."

Loring's face bore a heavy, tired look. "I wonder when it will end. Every few years we seem forced to tend to this matter."

"I read the letters. Leaving Chapaev around would have been an unnecessary risk. More loose ends that would eventually have led to problems."

"Regretfully, draha, you are right."

"Were you able to learn anything more from St. Petersburg?"

"Only that Christian was definitely in the Commission records again. He noticed Father's name on a document Knoll was reading, but it was gone when he checked after Knoll left."

"Good thing Knoll is no longer a problem. With Borya and Chapaev gone, things should now be secure."

"I am afraid not," Loring said. "There is another problem."

She set her wine aside. "What?"

"An excavation has started near Stod. An American entrepreneur looking for treasure."

"People don't give up, do they?"

"The lure is too intoxicating. Hard to say for sure if this latest venture is in the right cavern. Unfortunately, there is no way to know until the cavern is explored. All I know is that he is in the generally correct area."

"We have a source?"

"Directly on the inside. He has kept me informed, but even he doesn't know for sure. Unfortunately, Father kept that precise information close to himself . . . not even trusting his son."

"You want me to travel there?"

"Please. Keep an eye on things. My source is reliable, but greedy. He demands too much and, as you know, greed is something I cannot tolerate. He's expecting contact from a woman. My personal secretary has been the only one to talk with him so far, and only by telephone. The source knows nothing of me. He will know you by Margarethe. If anything is found, make sure the situation stays contained. No trail leading out. If the location is unrelated, forget it, and, if need be, eliminate the source. But, please, let's try to minimize the killing."

She knew what he meant. "I had no choice with Chapaev."

"I understand, draha, and I appreciate the efforts. Hopefully, that death will be the end of the so-called curse of the Amber Room."

"Along with two more."

The old man grinned. "Christian and Rachel Cutler?"

She nodded.

"I believe you are pleased with your efforts. Strange, I thought I sensed a hesitancy the other day regarding Christian. Maybe a small attraction?"

She lifted the goblet and toasted her employer. "Nothing I can't live without."

Knoll sped south toward Fussen. There were too many police in and around Kehlheim to stay the night there. He'd fled Warthberg and returned south to the Alps to talk with Danya Chapaev, only to learn the old man had been murdered during the night. The police were searching for a woman who'd asked directions to the house yesterday and left the marketplace with Chapaev's grandson. Her identity was unknown. But not to him.

Suzanne Danzer.

Who else? Somehow she'd picked up the trail and beat him to Chapaev. All that information Chapaev had freely provided came from her. No question about it. He'd been sucked into a trap and nearly killed.

He recalled what Juvenal said in his Satires. Revenge is the delight of a mean spirit and petty mind. Proof of this is no one rejoices more in revenge than a woman.

Right. But he preferred Byron. Men love in haste but detest at leisure.

There'd be hell to pay when their paths crossed again. Bloody damn painful hell. Next time he'd have the advantage. He'd be ready.

The narrow streets of Fussen overflowed with spring tourists drawn by Ludwig's castle south of town. It was an easy matter to blend into the evening rush of revelers searching for dinner and spirits in the busy cafes. He paused for a half hour and ate in one of the least crowded, listening to delightful chamber music echoing from a summer concert across the street. After, he found a phone booth near his hotel and called Burg Herz. Franz Fellner answered.

"I heard about an explosion in the mountains today. A woman was pulled out, and they are still looking for the man."

"I won't be found," he said. "It was a trap." He told Fellner what happened from the time he left Atlanta to the moment he learned of Chapaev's murder a little while ago. "Interesting that Rachel Cutler may have survived. But it does not matter. She'll surely head back to Atlanta."

"You are sure Suzanne is involved?"

"Somehow she got ahead of me."

Fellner chuckled. "Perhaps you are getting old, Christian?"

"I was not careful enough."

"Cocksure is a better explanation," Monika suddenly said. She was obviously on an extension.

"I wondered where you were."

"Your mind was probably on how you were going to fuck her."

"How fortunate I am to have you to remind me of all my shortcomings."

Monika laughed. "Half the fun of all this, Christian, is watching you work."

He said, "It appears this trail is now frozen. Perhaps I should move on to other acquisitions?"

"Tell him, child," Fellner said.

"An American, Wayland McKoy, is excavating near Stod. Claims he's going to find the Berlin museum art, maybe the Amber Room. He's done this before with some success. Check it out just to be sure. At the very least you might pick up some good information, maybe a new acquisition."

"Is this excavation well known?"

"It's in the local papers, and CNN International ran several pieces on it," Monika said.

"We were aware of it before you traveled to Atlanta," Fellner said, "but thought Borya worth an immediate inquiry."

"Is Loring interested in this new dig?" he asked.

"He seems interested in everything else we do," Monika said.

"You're hoping Suzanne will be dispatched?" Fellner asked.

"More than hoping."

"Good hunting, Christian."

"Thank you, sir, and when Loring calls to learn if I'm dead, don't disappoint him."

"Need a little anonymity?"

"It would help."