Claude spoke to the bellhops in a fast French. They grabbed the luggage and headed for the elevators. I spoke to Claude.
“Can you take care of the paperwork for me please, Claude.” Then I showed him the additional two thousand francs in my other hand. “The names are Delecroix, and Le Fevre. Mr. And Mrs. I’d also appreciate some discretion here. We don’t want to speak with anyone other than our little group, so there’s no point in saying we’re booked in should anyone enquire.” The two thousand changed hands even quicker than the first five. “When our bill approaches the five thousand, let me know, and I’ll fix that right away. Does that sound acceptable, Claude?”
“Most certainly, sir. If you would just follow the bellhops, they will guide you to the Suite. Here are the keys, sir.” He handed over two sets of keys, and we grabbed the service elevator up with the luggage and the two bellhops. The women hadn’t said anything yet, but it would all come out as soon as we got our suite to ourselves. Something to perk up my day. Swell
~
Chapter Seventeen
T
he elevator ride was quiet, with no one speaking and only three floors to ride. About seven seconds after being ushered into our new suite, Westwood and Godsen started talking at the same time. The tone wasn’t a happy one. Therese kept to herself curling up on one of the French Colonial sofas in the main sitting room. The suite was one of the best I’d ever seen, and I’d seen a lot of hotel rooms.
The entrance to this hotel would fool anyone. The interior was lovely. I went into the washroom in the entrance area where we were standing. Picking up a bath towel, I grabbed the aluminum case holding my H&K gear, and went over to the sofa Therese had chosen. I sat down next to her and placed the case on the coffee table after laying the bath towel down first. The table top was made of mirrored glass.
I had ignored both Godsen and Westwood as they were ranting somewhat, and we had no time for unproductive conversations. They both wound down at the same time sensing the futility of the effort to capture my attention through ranting or raving. Or speaking sternly but authoritatively, in Godsen’s case.
I waved them over to join us. There was plenty of room and a fair selection of seating, so they came over and sat down. Godsen took the floor first, as I knew she would.
“Well, Jeffry, what’s next on your agenda for our touring pleasure today? Or should we maybe get a little bit more organized and back on track? Which would involve you taking orders from me, as opposed to the other way around, I might point out.”
She was definitely pissed off, which was only a natural reaction to the delayed shock of what had happened this morning.
Westwood piped up, surprisingly, in the middle. “Colonel Ma’am, if I may speak plainly?” She used a formal tone to go with the formal request.
Godsen turned sideways and gave her a look like she’d just stepped of the interstellar shuttle from the Orion Cluster. Finally, after a pause long enough for me to light up a Camel, she snapped out of it and answered her.
“Certainly, Captain Westwood, please feel free to speak your mind.”
I broke in first. “Captain?” Westwood never looked my way, but spoke directly to my implied question.
“Yes, Canadian Forces Air Command. The Air Force.”
“You come with Wings?” I made the question as casual as I could, like from a new friend, rather than some stranger grilling her. I think she took it in the manner I had intended. She kept looking at Godsen but spoke to me letting the whole room in on it, which must have been intended for the addition of Therese. Obviously, as her Superior Officer, Godsen would already know whatever Westwood had to say to me, which left only Therese as a non-participant. Until now.
“You can’t make the grade in the Air Forces without being able to fly something. Personally…” Then, she gave me a momentary flash of a glance that had a smile attached before turning her ocular attention on Godsen, “…I can fly anything meant to lift off the ground under its own controlled power system. The ‘control’ part is where I come in. Pilot, and so forth…” She let that hang out in the space right in front of her spreading to fill the room for everyone to see plainly.
I came right back with a sharp repartee. “Uh, I see.” She didn’t leave it there.
“There’s no false modesty in that statement because it’s a fact. But I switched to Colonel Godsen’s Division of the Forces because we get do things that help our people every day, it seems. Well, it feels that way at least. That and the fact that I believe in Colonel Godsen as much as the credo of our Forces Division.
“When you say ‘Our people’, to whom exactly are you referring?”
Another quick flash of smile.
“Canadians, silly. Canadians and people who want to become Canadians, and deserve to have the chance everyone from a free country would have, including the right to request moving to Canada permanently if that was what they wanted.”
“I’m proud to be in the company of such Patriots. Please have whatever conference you wish. I’m putting Therese to bed for a nap.” I looked at her and she nodded her head at me. I’d thought that the day had been too much for her. Even though it was still early. She was the only one among us who hadn’t had the dubious advantage of professional survival training. I stood and held out my hand for her. She got up and took it. I walked her over to one of the bedroom doors and opened it for her.
“Will it be Okay for you in here? I’ll be right through this door, in the next room, if you want me for anything. Shortly I’m going out to get another car for us. A minivan, really. That’ll give us more room to be comfortable in.” She looked up at me and nodded her assent, reluctantly letting go of my hand. “Evie will be here while I’m gone. If you need anything, and I’m out, just ask Evie, but I won’t be gone long.” She turned and walked across the room, headed for the bed. Even when she walked she was graceful. Beautiful. It was natural for her, I realized. She’d probably been like this since she was a child. Graceful, elegant, beautiful, intelligent, and talented. Quite a woman for someone who hadn’t been close enough to spot the three in the big Three Zero yet. I closed the door after her as she went for her lie-down.
When I got back to my seat, Westwood and Godsen were still conferring. On what I wasn’t sure. Maybe a foolproof plan for knocking me off. I picked up on the trail of words as I sat down. Godsen was responding to some query Westwood had made.
“…and furthermore, I think we made a mistake with the choices. Not ‘we’, sorry, I.”
“Colonel. May I interrupt for a moment to put my two-cents-worth in on the current situation?”
“I believe you already have, Jeffry, so take it away.” She made a motion in the air with her hands, as if she was surrendering to the inevitable.
“Fine, thank you. I’ve been pretty sure that no one tailed Bobby, Mark’s driver. Mark will never think of looking here, exactly where he dropped us off. We were on the sidewalk for less than five minutes. More like three, I think. We were a normal looking group as we entered the hotel. We’ve been registered anonymously, and the staff have been sworn to secrecy,” I made the one gesture understood all over the world transcending national, cultural, racial, and linguistic boundaries: the rubbing together the tips of the thumb and the first two fingers. Money. Francs, Deutsch Marks, Dollars, Dinars, Riyals, Yen.
“For at least the next twenty-four hours, this can be a base location that no one knows about, from either side. We can use that to our advantage. Even though Mark came through, I’m feeling apprehensive about organizations, be they ours or theirs. There is a leak somewhere on our side, the good guys. One of us isn’t so good after all. It could be fairly high up, and we might not be able to trace it, but if we’re lucky enough, we will, and then we can determine how extensive the damage is.” Godsen was the first to respond, once again.
“What are you trying to say? That organization that got you out of hot water this morning is playing for the other side? Or that someone in Mark’s team is t
wo-timing him?”
“You’re missing the number one suspect. The very department of data acquisition that you put together. But it’s useless to speculate. I’ll have the name and number of any suspected or known leaks within the next few hours. Hopefully. In the meantime, we have to be independent of any support organization that we would be tempted to use. Everyone’s off limits. We’re doing our mission on our own, and that’s that. The first thing you should do, Captain, is to contact the rest of the team and relay that sentiment. They should be working under their own resources as well. No inside contacts just yet. Colonel, we should know the extent of the damage before your meeting with Urs Schnorrer. That may tell us if we can still insert Captain Westwood in the undercover role you had planned. By the way, I’ve come around to your way of thinking on that part of the plan, and I think it’s fair to say that it’s now unanimous. That just leaves one thing in the open for discussion. Therese. Until we’ve had a chance to assess the safety factor, she won’t be left unguarded. Agreed?”
Westwood looked to Godsen, as the most senior officer in the room. Godsen put her chin on her hand, elbow on her knee, with her legs crossed. Very nice legs, from where I was sitting.
“All right. There’s only one catch in this plan revision, Jeffry. You have to come up with the leak. Your whole approach is one based on paranoia, not logic. I’ll give you your few hours, then I’ll decide on what comes next, and what your part will be, if any.”
“Fair enough. I’m willing to take that chance. Which reminds me I’m going over to get the Mazda. Would you care to come with me?”
“Yes. In fact, I will. Evie, hold the fort. No outside communications, but get the rest of the field team on the line and let them know what we now… suspect.” She gave me a small look of daggers. Not enough to kill, just cut me up a bit. I could see that Godsen was having a hard time accepting what I was telling her. In her place, I might’ve felt much the same.
While I’d been sitting with the case open in front of me I’d made sure that the first round in both the clips I had in the guns were loaded to my liking. The Colt had five rounds of dum-dums, and then four straight ones. On the H&K, I switched the clip with one that had armour piercing shells, except for the last four, which were the explosive tip. I wasn’t taking any more chances. These people with no names that we were up against had shown no hesitation whatsoever in using automatic weapons in the light of day on a busy street. I already didn’t like them a whole lot. Surprise.
“Well, if we’re going, let’s get gone. Change coats and so on, eh?” I pulled off my windbreaker turning it inside out, and changing the colour in the process to a light grey on dark. It made some small difference. Godsen just gave me another look, then said, “If we’re going, let’s go.”
Evie was checking out the suite by now, which was large for a hotel like this. The building was old, at least a couple of hundred years, probably more. From the inside you couldn’t tell. It was a great restoration job, and it looked as if it had been done recently. Either that or very few tourists asked for the Gerrard Suite. I softened up a little.
“Evie, when we’re downstairs, I’ll have them send up a tray of fresh fruit and cheeses, sound good?”
She turned my way from having just scouted the second bedroom, and gave me a smile. “Sounds good.”
“Fine. Just remember that we don’t know for sure that we’re hidden. We just believe the odds are in our favour that we are.”
“Got it. See you both soon.”
At that, Godsen opened the door and walked out with me right behind. We took the main elevator, which was at the other end of the hall from the service one. It let us out on the lower main level. I went to the front desk to order the fruits and cheeses for Evie. I pulled out my roll, and ensured that it would be done instantly, and brought up by one of the bellhops that we had already met instead of someone new to recognize us. Then we called for a taxi. As soon as it came, the doorman had us ensconced in the back seat in a flash. I told the cab where we wanted to go, which was two bus stops from the safe-house. We would make the final approach on foot.
I had my digital cellular and my HP 200LX with me, in the small nylon notebook case with the strap across one shoulder. I’d find out what Walter was up to when we got there. The cab let us off about thirty francs away, which is a short ride in Zurich, where cabs are costly. As are most things in Switzerland. We got out, and the cab pulled away the instant the door was shut.
I started walking us down the street, Molkenstrasse. About halfway down the block, I stopped and opened the door to a store that had children toys in the window. Godsen followed having no other choice than to wait on the street. Not the best idea under the circumstances. We walked straight to the other side of the store, and out the door on that side. As soon as I was through the door, I jogged quickly four doors down and turned to give Godsen the ‘come on’ signal.
She was about two feet behind and only just had time to stop from running into me. She was doing well. I gave her a smile, turned and stepped to the door set a few feet back from the sidewalk. It had display windows on both sides of the door, providing for window-shopping without having to crowd up the store, unless you were pretty certain of a buy, or you wanted to know more about the products and services of the shop. It also provided a blind spot to anyone coming out of the door to the store we’d come out of ten seconds or so ago.
Opening the door, I held it for Godsen, and walked in on her heels. I noticed that her dress shoes were good, solid flats, believing the highly-dressed business woman look that she was projecting. If you didn’t look too hard, that’s what you’d see. A business woman, but those shoes were good and solid, probably Okay for running in too.
“Keep your eyes and ears open, and you’ll learn something new each day.” That’s what Gramps used to say. He had a lot of sayings, did old Gramps. He tried to impart as many of them as possible to me prior to his demise. The best of them I missed, I’m sure, because I was only a kid when he died, maybe eight, something like that. Looking back now, I can only imagine what the words of wisdom that related to women would have been like.
I followed her through the door and made a left turn, taking me to the main counter for assessments, repairs, and so on. It was also shielded from the street and the area surrounding the doorway. Godsen had been drawn despite herself to browse along the far side of the store at the main counter where the long glass cases were. When she noticed where I had gone, she followed coming up close behind me like any couple out together. I rang the little service bell sitting on the wooden top of the small glass showcase that displayed examples of before and after, revealing the hidden potential of those old knives in the closet. This was the best knife shop in Zurich, and one of the best in the world. There was one in Paris I liked, but this was where I did my serious shopping.
A small round man with a fringe of grey hair on his mostly bald head came out from behind the curtains hanging a few feet away. He was dressed impeccably, as always, with a three-piece suit, cufflinks, tiepin, the works. He had his glasses perched high on his head, and a loupe on a cord around his neck, for checking blade edges, and the occasional stamp of a master knife-maker. Herr Kleinemann was wiping his hands on a small towel, probably removing some excess oil. He threw the towel into a small pail next to the counter, which was about half-full of the things. They were even all the same colour.
He stopped as he saw me pulling his glasses down off his head to make sure he knew what he was seeing. Then he broke out into a big grin when he got a good look at me.
“Herr Claxton, how nice it is to see you after all this time! And with such a lovely lady friend too!” He took my proffered hand, shaking it with both of his. I made the introductions, using Godsen’s first name only, and introducing Herr Kleinemann as ‘Sam’.
“Come, come, we must have a little hospitality.” He turned back and held the curtain open for us. I ushered Godsen in ahead of me as we entered the back room. Kleinemann ca
me in behind us dropping the curtain, and thereby unwittingly granting us a hiding spot. Assuming we were being followed.
“Now, we shall have a small glass of kirsch, yes? Last year was a good one indeed, and I still have a few bottles left yet.” Chuckling to himself, he bent over to rummage through a cabinet on one side of the room. I led Godsen to the table on the other side of the room and held out a chair for her. She went along with it and sat down peaceably without giving me any grief about it. Another point for her.
Sam finally found the bottle he was looking for, holding it up to the light, there was no grit on the bottom, and the contents were as clear as the water from an Alpine stream. He decided that he approved, and placed it on the tabletop, then went to rummage in an upper wall cabinet for glasses. Godsen gave me a ‘What are we doing?’ look, and I silently shushed her. Sam found the glasses he had been looking for and brought the three of them to the table, setting them down in front of each of us as he sat down too.
The ritual of the opening of the bottle and pouring the kirsch took up the next few minutes, then we were ready to toast. The kirsch glasses were small, hardly larger than a shot glass but more elegant, with fluting at the base and top. Sam held his glass high, and said, “To good friends, may they always be returning.”, and then emptied his glass in one swallow. I followed suit, and then Godsen took a little breath, and did the same. As the liquid fire hit her throat, she almost lost it, but didn’t. Not bad.
Sam was already refilling our glasses, and talking at the same time. “So, Jeffry. It has been a long time now I think. Too long. Did you forget where your friends live, you couldn’t send a postcard, hmm?”
This time I toasted. Holding my glass high I said, “To friends, old and new.”, and looked at Godsen, then tipped my glass up and drained it in one go.
Godsen took just a small sip this time. Both Sam and I laughed. “It grows on you, Ronnie. Well, Sam. I haven’t seen you in quite a while, it’s true. How are you? And how is business?”
The Diamond Dust on Dragonfly Wings: A Jeffry Claxton Mystery Novel Page 39
