The Cup

CHAPTER 15

Bergstrom was thinking about his dead wife. He poured ice cold vodka into a tumbler and downed it. If Emma were here, she would have helped him figure out what to do. If she were here, he'd never have gotten into this mess in the first place. He'd always talked about everything with her. She would have stopped him from becoming involved with those people. But she hadn't been there to help him think it through. Emma had died of cancer seven years before. The pain of her death was still with him.

Bergstrom could feel the doors closing. It was time to run.

He had a passport in a different name and enough cash in the safe for a ticket to somewhere far away. His credit cards were good but he wouldn't be able to use those once he left the country. Besides, he wouldn't need them. There was plenty of cash in the accounts in Andorra, more than enough to live comfortably someplace where extradition was difficult. Someplace warm, where a foreigner would be welcome as long as he had enough money to keep the natives happy.

Why did it have to turn out this way? Why did they have to kill Andersson? And then they had to show off, crucify him. They couldn't just dispose of the body. Fucking animals.

He poured another drink. He thought he heard a brief noise, then quickly forgot it.

I'll book a ticket for France with one of the cards. That will throw them off the trail for a little. Then, a quick change to a different look in the airport men's room, something simple. A different airline to South America. By the time they figure it out I'll be far away…

A knock on the door interrupted his thoughts. Bergstrom got up, went to the door and looked through the spy hole. A dark-haired man stood there, someone he had never seen before.

"Who is it?"

"My name is Antonio Bellini, Signor Bergstrom. Count Mercurio sent me to speak with you. Please, may I come in?"

Bergstrom opened the door.

"Unless he's prepared to make a new offer, you have wasted your trip. But come in, it's cold out."

Bellini entered the room and stamped his feet.

"The count has asked me to see if we can work something out. He is prepared to offer more money."

"Come into the living room," Bergstrom said. "We'll talk. Can I get you a drink? Vodka?"

"Brandy, if you have it."

Bellini followed Bergstrom into the other room. The Swede took a bottle of brandy and a glass from a sideboard and poured a drink for his unexpected visitor. He gestured at an empty chair and sat down.

"You still have the tile?" Bellini asked.

"I do."

"The Count is prepared to double his offer."

Bergstrom shook his head. "I'm afraid you have wasted your time after all. The price is not negotiable."

"Please reconsider, Signor Bergstrom. Allow me to point out the advantages to you."

Bellini was about to begin when a man stepped into the room with a pistol in his hand.