The Romanov Ransom

19

Definitely an interesting mix,” Selma said when they called her back.

Remi raised the volume on her iPhone so that they could hear over the road noise. The Toyota wasn’t exactly the quietest vehicle they’d ever rented. “Interesting how?”

“A German plane carrying a letter dated half a year after the war ended.”

“Coded?” Sam said, intrigued. “War-related?”

“Not exactly. The only thing we’ve been able to glean from it is a mention of Königsberg and a date from the war, mentioned in the body of the letter,” she said as Sam’s phone buzzed in the center console.

“Hold on, Selma,” he said. “Another call coming in.”

Remi picked up his phone. “It’s Rube,” she said, putting him on speakerphone as well.

“Hi, Rube,” they said together, Sam adding, “What news?”

“Got a hit on your name — assuming Zakaria heard correctly,” he said. “Rolfe may be Rolfe Wernher. His criminal history goes back a few decades, but nothing too serious. Mostly minor stuff like a few drug violations, and a burglary charge that was dropped to petty theft. It’s the stuff they weren’t able to prosecute him on that worries me. Money laundering, tax evasion, drug trafficking, conspiracy, et cetera, et cetera. There seems to be a lack of direct witnesses who can be found. The few who have stepped forward end up missing.”

“Well, now you can add kidnapping to his list of charges,” Sam said.

“Assuming we can keep Zakaria safe and tie Rolfe to it.”

“Anything on the men who hit Durin’s apartment?”

“One of my Moroccan contacts tells me that the plates on the two cars abandoned at Kahrs’s apartment came back as rentals. The interesting thing is, the credit card used to rent them. They seem to belong to a fictitious business in Russia.”

“The kidnapper said he didn’t know who was shooting at me,” Sam said. “It’d be nice to know who’s behind this fictitious business. Even nicer to know if there really is more than one group involved.”

“I’ll see what I can find out. Anything else you can tell us about the group who came after you at the apartment?”

“I’m not certain, but I think they were speaking Russian. That’s about it.”

“Not much, but it’s a start.”

After Rube disconnected, Sam said, “Sorry, Selma. Thought it’d be quicker. You catch all that?”

“I suppose it explains the bullet holes in your rental car. Not sure I’d want to be the poor guy checking in the returns,” she said over a rustling of papers on her end. “I have a few notes here on what we’ve been able to come up with so far. Like I said, we have a date and a city. Königsberg, the eighth of April, nineteen forty-five. Beyond that, we’re not sure. Yet.”

“Is the date significant?” Sam asked.

“The Russians invaded Königsberg right around that time, rousting the Nazis. So, it could be. Beyond the general knowledge that Hitler ordered the removal of all the looted art and treasures stored there, we know they got some of the art out.”

“Please,” Remi said, “follow that up with a confirmation that the Amber Room was on that list of what they got out.”

“Wish I could, Mrs. Fargo. Whether or not they were able to disassemble and move the Amber Room in time has been a hot topic of debate ever since. Lazlo’s fairly certain the letter refers to something else entirely. He just needs a little more time to verify his preliminary findings. Hold on. He’s right here.”

“Quite the find, these letters,” Lazlo said, his English accent evident. “I’m not sure about this first letter. In fact, it’s so banal I wonder why someone would even bother to mail it, considering how much airmail cost back then. That led me to take another look after trying to read the second letter. At first, I thought it may be the key to break the code. But that doesn’t seem to be the case at all. I’m not even sure either letter is really in code. More, that it’s all purposefully written out of order for some odd reason. Just no order I can discern.”

Lazlo rarely got right to the point, and, as expected, today was no different. “Long story short…?”

“One of the letters has a pencil notation circled on the top. Not in the letter writer’s hand but in a script that matches the logbook, or, rather, the R’s that appear in the words Romanov Ransom, scrawled in the margin of the logbook that you found on the plane. I’m waiting on better photos of the pages from Karl and Brand. The cell phone photos they sent—”

“Back up a bit,” Sam said. “Romanov Ransom?”

Remi added, “As in the murdered royal Romanovs?”

“The only Romanovs I can think of.”

“I wasn’t aware there was a ransom involved,” she replied.

“Neither were we. There aren’t any historical references to any ransom being paid by, or on behalf of, the Romanov family. At least not that we’ve been able to find. That’ll take a tad more research.”

“What about the map?” Sam asked. “What do you make of it?”

“The map,” Selma said, “indicates you need to make Königsberg your next stop. Or, to be more precise, Kaliningrad, as it’s now called.”

“What do you think?” Sam asked Remi. “A quick detour?”

“Kaliningrad? What are you waiting for? It’s a destination I’ve always dreamed about.”