by Ritter Ames
The pickpocket was gone before I could barely be sure he was male. Young, dark, and gone.
“Are you okay?” Jack held my arm. We should have both fallen, but didn’t.
“I’m fine. Did he get your wallet?”
“I’ve never had one apologize before,” he said, checking his pockets. “Everything is here, including…”
A burner phone. A burner phone turned on and showing a text message.
Yes, you are being followed. Waited to be sure. Go to Baden-Baden. Check into a hotel and go to the casino tonight. Will make contact on Laurel’s phone by 20:00 to tell where to meet.
Attached files displayed pictures of the schoolgirl and the farmer, as well as a man both of us remembered seeing after we’d arrived in Germany.
“I’m feeling a little creeped out,” I whispered.
“They rotate to try to keep from being spotted.” His frown deepened.
We tried to walk sedately from the cathedral, but all we could think about was getting to the train station and trying to slip our tails.
Nineteen
Baden-Baden is in the Black Forest, though the locale isn’t as dark as it sounds. The town is a place of rejuvenation and entertainment, with the bases covered by a world-class spa and one of the most beautiful casinos in the world. Monaco will always be my favorite for both, but Baden-Baden is an extremely close second and much more relaxing. I wished we were there for different circumstances, as I definitely could have used a battery recharge.
As it was, I got a quick nap on the fast train taking us from Cologne to the Black Forest destination. The train had six-passenger compartments. We couldn’t get one of our own, but there had only been one other person in ours, leaving us room to stretch out and relax. Our travel companion, a man, was already reading when we got on the train and continued to read in the car when we got off at the station.
Buses ran from the Baden-Baden train station to the town center several times an hour, so we didn’t have to wait long. Jack manhandled both our large bags and I grabbed the carry-ons. As he settled in the seat next to me I could see he was exhausted.
“Did you sleep at all on the train? The compartment seemed quiet enough.” I said. I’d taken the opportunity to catch another cat nap and felt mildly refreshed.
He shook his head. “Too many things running through my brain. I sent some messages around. Received a text back from a detective in Scarsdale. He’s going to see if he can get the lead detective on your mother’s case to talk to me, maybe send copies of his notes.”
“I need to call Cassie and Nico,” I said, looking at my watch and subtracting five hours. “Except it’s too early for them to have met with anyone.” I laughed quietly. “Who am I kidding? I want to hear their voices to know they’re okay. Tell them we have a never-ending army following us, and to be sure no one is stalking them. I feel like a mother hen. Which is usually Cassie’s job.”
“I already texted Nico with a brief rundown of events.”
“You haven’t heard from them?”
He looked at his watch. “If either is even up, they probably aren’t functional yet. I said in my text not to worry about contacting us unless they had something to report, as we’re in the middle of a dilemma ourselves.”
“A stagnant one at the moment.”
“Yes, waiting is always the hardest part.”
We were soon in the lobby of a charming hotel sitting right on the cobblestoned old center. Jack got us connecting rooms. Now that Nico wasn’t with me I wondered who was footing the bill. Something we needed to discuss.
Our bags were deposited in the rooms, and we received a brief tour of the accommodations. When we were alone once more, I opened the door between the rooms and pointed at Jack’s bed. “Nap. No arguments.”
“If you stay in your room.”
“I’ll stay in the hotel,” I said. “But I might actually want to go down to the lobby to find something to read or drink.”
He sat down on the bed and fell back. “God, you’re right. I about fell asleep on the bus. If you promise—”
“I promise. I’ll wake you in a couple of hours and we’ll go to dinner.”
“I should be hungry. You’re probably hungry.”
“You’re too tired to be hungry, and I can take care of myself…”
There was no point in saying anything else. He was out. I grabbed him by the back of the ankles and rotated him until most of him was on the bed. I removed his shoes and pulled the drapes, making everything a little more comfortable for sleeping. I contemplated raising his head to actually get a pillow underneath, but he looked so peaceful I decided to let him find it himself as he slept. I walked back into my room and closed the door until it almost latched.
Ralf’s instructions said we were going to the casino, which meant I needed to unpack enough to determine if I had something suitable to wear. First, though, I pulled out the burner phone and sent him a text giving the name of our hotel. I hoped he remembered the number of the cell and would accept the message. I could have sent the information via my phone, but I figured he sent us the burner phone for a reason. The boy could have slipped a note in Jack’s pocket instead.
“Well, no, he couldn’t. The phone allowed him to send the pictures too,” I mused. It didn’t matter. I’d already sent the text.
I decided on my wardrobe choice. The little black dress I always traveled with made the cut. My outerwear options were limited, and it looked like my red coat again, despite Jack’s reservations. “It’s not like I can keep wearing his bomber jacket all the time.”
The en suite bathroom was very small, but sufficient. I thought about a shower but would have to deal with my hair, and if this evening ended like most of our adventures I’d need another shower later anyway. I soon had my makeup off and reapplied.
Killing time was killing me. To rescue my patience, I walked to the nightstand and picked up my room key. I jumped when the room phone gave a ringing burst. “Hello,” I said quietly. One ear listened to the desk clerk, the other was at the wall to determine if Jack had been disturbed by the sound.
Apparently Ralf did want to know where we were. The front desk informed me a guest waited downstairs to see me.
“I’ll be right down,” I said and hung up.
Opening the shared door a little wider, I could see Jack breathing steadily and deeply. It wasn’t exactly a snore but…
I scooped up the room key and my wallet, thinking I’d get the drink I mentioned before I returned. When I got to the lobby, I was pointed in the direction of a small lounge. It wasn’t Ralf. An older gentleman stood alone in the room, dressed in a heavy coat and boots, with enough snow on his dark slacks to indicate he might have hiked there. He walked closer, extending a hand to shake—
It was Moran. I turned to flee, but he caught my arm.
“Please, Mademoiselle Beacham. Laurel, if I may. You have nothing to fear from me at this time. I have come to warn you.”
“How did you know I was here?” He could make all the assurances he wanted. I was not going to believe him.
“I’ve had people looking out for your wellbeing.” He hadn’t yet let go, but used his free hand to wave it in the direction of two high-backed reading chairs. “Please, sit with me for a moment. We need to talk.”
“Okay. But I’m not leaving this hotel.” It wasn’t merely from my promise to Jack—I knew better than to trust this man.
I chose the chair nearer the door, and he finally released my arm. We each leaned over the small table between the chairs to speak without being overheard. I was prepared to scream long and loud if I thought it necessary—but I felt more curious than threatened. “Why the cat and mouse with all the people following us? If you’re trying to kill me—”
“Non, non,” he said, shaking his silver head. I
saw a felt hat at his feet and wondered if it was his. “I am not the one trying to harm you.”
“Who is?”
“The name used is Ermo Colle, but it is not really anyone’s name. It is a clean name and suits his purposes. Even the face is different from the original, I am told. The man acts powerful, but he is afraid.” Moran looked up and trained his gaze on me. I saw faded blue eyes under bushy brows and wondered exactly how old he was. “He is afraid of you.”
I shook my head. “I don’t know Ermo Colle. Tell me what he looks like.”
“He would just change his appearance again.” Moran reached over and gently clasped my hand. “You are a threat to him.”
I gambled and said, “You’re working with him. Why don’t you stop him from doing whatever you don’t like?”
His face reddened. Frightened, I wanted to move away, but he gripped my hand tighter. I pulled, but he hung on and spoke, his tone soft, but his words intense, “Listen to me. My organization is mine alone. Ermo Colle is dangerous to you.”
“Why?” I successfully jerked back my hand. “Why should I trust you? To help you take out your competition? Help you take over? You sent goons after me in London—”
“Non, non.” He shook his head and the combed-back steel and silver hair didn’t move a fraction. “Imbeciles. They did everything all wrong.”
“Because I didn’t let them catch me?”
He sighed. “Here, I will prove I’ve not come to harm you. I want you to have something.”
He rose from the chair and started patting pockets until he found the right one. The item he withdrew was something I recognized immediately and had missed terribly.
I couldn’t keep from smiling. “A telescoping baton,” I said.
“You broke my assistant’s wrist that time in America. You were very good with it,” he said.
“My favorite defensive weapon, but illegal in the U.K. I left mine in America,” I said. “Even there I have to be careful. Some states allow them. Others, like New York, consider them illegal offensive weapons.”
“You need this while you’re here. If you want to leave it behind when you depart Germany, so be it,” he said, slipping the collapsed baton into my hand and closing my fingers around it. “Keep it handy as long as you can. Keep it with you always.”
“Thank you,” I said. “But we still aren’t friends.”
He gave a hearty belly laugh and retook his chair. “Oh, you have very much of your mother in you.”
“Why did you send the compact and the jewelry box to me? Who is the man in the picture?” I put the baton in my lap, and had to clasp my hands together and rest them on top to keep from reaching for him. If I did, I was afraid I might start begging for information.
He shook his head. “The items belong to you. I’ve thought for years to send them to you, but we’ve gotten at cross purposes, and I didn’t want to give you a shock.”
“Why do it now, so many years later?”
“It was important.” He looked at me and lowered his brows, looking very serious. “The pattern has changed. It is not a game anymore. Lives are being lost as the numbers shift. You needed to know what you didn’t know. To put the facts together more correctly. Know who you can’t trust. Not simply who is trustworthy.”
“How does a jewelry case from my late mother tell me who to trust?”
“You’ve had a shock. You don’t need more.”
“You’re wrong there, and you can’t show up here and expect to be believed for purely altruistic reasons. Without me asking questions.”
He sighed heavily. “My English, it is…”
“Don’t try to snow me, Moran. Your English is as good as you want it to be. Do you know anything about why European forgers are being killed? Is it your doing?”
“Why would I kill the lifeblood of my industry?” He raised his brows and looked so innocent, even while admitting with his words he dealt in forgeries—and I couldn’t touch him for it.
“Who is committing the murders?”
“I…I have my suspicions. With any luck, they should stop soon.”
“How? What aren’t you telling me? Give me a name, Moran. Help me stop this. Is Colle behind the murders?”
He put a finger to his lips and smiled. I hadn’t been talking loudly and assumed it was his means of telling me he was keeping the knowledge secret. I knew for sure a moment later when he patted my hand and rose again from the chair.
“Be careful of Colle. I’ll keep a person watching you. Someone better than the man you spotted this morning at the museum.”
“He was your man? How many others were there? We know there are more.” I stood up and we were nearly the same height.
He buttoned his coat, then retrieved the hat from the floor. “As my man left, someone else assumed his mission. He’d seen other people watching you. He came with you from Italy, but the others were already in Cologne.”
He held his black gloves and rested his hand on my shoulder. “I am ready to retire to my vineyard. The game is more dangerous than before. Art is not the only thing people move. Masterpieces are not the fastest way to get rich today. Stay away from Ermo Colle.”
With that, he shook my right hand and headed for the door.
“Wait!”
He turned. “Yes?”
“Was Tony B working for you?”
The word he uttered was pitched low, but I was fairly positive he said connard. “Okay, you didn’t like him either. Can I assume a no?”
“Have you ever known me to do anything other than first class?” he asked. “I’ve always admired the way you did all your work—knew what you needed to know ahead of time.”
I could feel a blush rising and squeezed the baton. This was not going the way I wanted. “If you admired the way I did my homework, help me. Please. Was Tony B working for Ermo Colle?”
An expression flickered across his face. Too quickly to read or even be sure it wasn’t my imagination.
“You can find what you need elsewhere. You always have,” he said.
When he set his hat on his head and turned again to leave, I blurted, “Will you tell me about my mother? About how you knew her?”
His face crumpled, and I was afraid he was going to cry. However, when he spoke, his voice was strong. “I let her down.” He nodded his head and said, “I knew. I knew.” He turned and hurried away. By the time I got to the lobby door he was climbing into a car waiting for him outside. I ran to get the tag number, but I was too late.
The hotel’s small bar was open, but empty. I ordered a hearty sandwich on crusty bread and the house wine, a dry white the region was known for. There was a lot to process, and I had no idea where to start. At the same time, I wasn’t sure I’d learned anything concrete. I felt in my pocket for the baton and felt safe for the first time in weeks. Was this what he came for? To give me the weapon?
My sandwich arrived and I ate and drank methodically. The more I thought, the more I recognized the visit was all about my safety, exactly like he said. Was he protecting me as I was supposed to believe? Or was this all a ploy to con me into trusting him? First the gifts of my mother’s things, the photographs. How could I help but see she obviously trusted someone close to Moran—at least the implication was there. Then he gave me a weapon tonight. A weapon he knew I’d used successfully in the past. To pacify me or to up my guard?
Yet if he came to persuade me—to protect me—why did Simon break into my office? Was Simon trying to take me somewhere to keep me safe? Moran didn’t act threatening tonight, but when this whole caper started he sent Weasel and Werewolf to try to chloroform me on the Tube train. How was that being protective? I’d only escaped by stomping on the foot of Dylan’s friend and jumping into a cab with them. Obviously, I needed to make some notes on what to ask Moran the ne
xt time he materialized in my life.
Back to Simon’s theatrical stunt. Why would he go in with a battering ram if Moran’s orders were to keep me from being harmed by Ermo Colle? Was Simon working on his own? I wished I’d thought to ask before he left. However, self-recrimination wouldn’t solve anything. No reason for me even to consider the question until I had time to think it all through.
I reconsidered the questions I had asked. The way Moran answered each one. The responses never actually matched their respective queries.
The barman gave me a pen, and I used a napkin to jot down what I remembered of the impromptu Q and A. This was going to take some ruminating over before I’d know what he was really telling me.
After I exhausted my memory, I gave back the pen, pocketed the napkin, and ordered a sandwich and a beer to take up to Jack. A glance at my watch said we had about an hour to get to the casino by eight p.m. I didn’t know if Ralf planned to contact us by phone or at the casino, but the time was in his text with orders to go there, and we needed to get moving.
By the time I got upstairs, I could hear the shower running in the next room. Gambling starts in the afternoon at Baden-Baden and goes into the wee hours. I hoped the shower helped Jack wake up, as I had the feeling it would be a while before we’d see these rooms again.
I heard the water stop and slipped in quickly to leave the plate and bottle on his nightstand. Back in my own room, I pushed the door completely closed and headed for the closet. My dress was ready to go, but I wished for a pocket or two to keep the baton handy and out of sight. I pulled the lovely weapon from my slacks and held it out in front of me. One flick of my wrist and the darling extended from about half a foot to nearly two. The sound alone made me tingly. I struck the mattress a few times for practice.
Jack called through the wall, “Is this food mine?”
“Yes, we need to go soon. Should I call the desk and order a car?”
“I’ll do it.”
