“Honestly? I think he is completely sane, but that is a hazard of my vocation, and especially the adventurous side of it. I mean, the things we've seen, the things Nina and I know are possible, would make us sound batshit crazy to any therapist.”
“True, true,” Nine nodded fiercely. “They'd lock us up in a blink.”
With that Sam played the short clip where he asked Erich to tell him the story from a firsthand perspective. Erich spoke clearly, even though he was clearly under mild sedation to assure docility and compliance. He looked terrible, even for a man of his age and illness. Eyes sunken into their sockets made their color barely visible and his lips, if the slight swelling could be called so, were chapped and thin. Deep dimple cuts fell into his face to display his dreadful state of emaciation, but his recollection lacked nothing.
“Is it on?” he asked, his shadowy eyes leering at the camera lens. “You know, I have told my story so many times, but nobody believes me and nobody cares. They just bring another hypodermic, you know?” He sighed and looked up at the ceiling.
The loud audio setting gave the silence in the room an ominous hiss, reminiscent of old horror films of experimentation and medical malpractices. Sam's adjustment of the camera started Nina and Joanne with its sudden crackling sound.
He smiled at their reaction. “Sorry. The lens was off-center.”
Erich's blank eyes stared at the camera and he just started talking without warning.
“I met her two days before I…lost…her,” he said. “She was with some friends in Victoriaville and we met at the lake, you know? So we got along great and such. Then she told me that she had to go back to Montreal, because she didn’t have her own car. She had to go back with her friends in their car. I did not want her to go so soon, so I offered to take her home after we spent some more time together in Quebec City and she could tell her friends I'll take her,” he rambled, wringing his bony hands off camera.
Nina felt uncomfortable just listening to the story. It was an intuitive reaction to the manner in which things progressed in his tale and perhaps the fact that she knew how it was going to end. Joanne placed her hand on Nina's arm and said, “I know. I feel it too.”
“What?” Nina asked curiously.
“That sickening feeling; that apprehensive morbidity that makes you not want to hear what he remembers, but you have to because otherwise you cannot forget,” she told Nina. She caught Sam's dark eyes studying her, but he said nothing.
Erich continued. “But her friends did not trust me…”
“Christ, I wonder why,” Nina mumbled softly.
“…and they took her back to Montreal just as planned. But me and Leslie decided we would meet at the Notre-Dame Basilica after her friends dropped her off, you know? So that is what we did. I met her there and took her to Quebec City for dinner…”
Erich stopped, biting his lip. His forearms stop moving, implying that his locked hands kept still now as his thoughts wandered down a dark and thorny path. He looked at Sam and down again, catching his breath. “That was the last time Leslie was ever happy.”
“Oh God, I really need a drink now,” Nina declared with sorrow plaguing her pretty face. “I’m not sure I’m ready for this, Sam. Can't you just tell us in short?”
“It’s not that much longer, Nina,” he offered. “It’s less than thirty-five minutes long and he doesn't use detail. I know that doesn't make it less evil, but it’s not as explicit as you might expect.”
“While we were…you know, having sex in a motel outside the Mingan Archipelago Reserve, there was a knock at the door. The office of the motel got a call from the people I worked for. They had landed at the Natashquan air strip and needed me to help them up at the weather station in Torngat,” he spoke quickly as if relaying the story quicker would make it easier.
“Wonder who he worked for,” Joanne noted. “It sounds illegal to me.”
“Aye, probably a cover,” Nina replied.
“I could not leave her there and I could not drive to Montreal to drop her off, you know? So I took her with me in the plane. At the airstrip I met up with my sire, Johann…he is dead now.”
“Your sire?” Sam's voice sounded sharply on the speaker.
“That’s what they called the guy who brings you in, you know, the guy who is responsible for you and gives you High Command's orders. Johann Kriel was my sire. And his sire was waiting for us to get to the Torngat Mountains, but they told me nothing up front. Johann was very upset about Leslie, but she promised to stay out of the way and she promised, you know, not to let Yvetta see her.”
“Yvetta was Erich and Johann's boss, an Austrian aristocrat with a hard-on for gold and guns,” Sam said briskly.
“They flew us to Weather Station Kurt way up, up, up, you know...there by Martin Bay?”
By Erich's expression his interviewer (Sam) was not familiar with the places he mentioned, so he carried on. “There was a weather station there, but a few miles from there a temporary weather camp was set up by my peopl, for us to stay over if we had to, you know? I’d never been there before, but before Yvetta got there Leslie hid under one of the military beds in the second prefab structure, waiting for me.”
“We're running out of battery. Shit,” Sam's voice same from behind the camera again. “Erich, can you maybe recount your story a little bit quicker?”
“Of course. We were there to load three MAC trucks' worth of stuff hidden off-shore in Martin Bay onto two trawlers. Gold coins, precious metals cast as kettles, pots and vases, you know? Even entire boxes made of solid gold with jewelry inside! Took eight of us to load it. Of course, Leslie got curious about the temporary stores so near to the place where nothing happens…”
Nina gawked at her friend, who in turn gloated and smiled. They would leave this discussion until after the credits, so to speak.
“…and she somehow got her hands on one of the large coins when Johann and two of his men saw her come out of the toilet with it in her hand, but they decided to deal with her later. So when Yvetta arrived, we were all in deep trouble – cavity searched by Yvetta's security men for gold pieces because she did not trust us after loading the loot into the containers on the boats.”
Sam turned to Nina and Joanne. “See, he told me afterwards that the loot was kept in a sunken German U-boat under the water of Martin Bay. The perfect vault to have hidden treasure, right? I almost admire their guile.”
“It is rather cunning. Besides, nobody would even think to go up there. It’s cold as fuck and there’s no indication that a shit load of gold is stashed there,” Nina said. “It’s a perfect hiding place.”
“When I went back inside, Yvetta was on my ass. I tried to warn Leslie, but she was climbing out of the bathroom window with Johann grabbing at her feet. He told Yvetta that Leslie was a thief, but before he could point fingers I…” Erich swallowed hard and dropped his chin in remorse. “I shouted out that Leslie was with him, that she was his girlfriend and he was playing Yvetta…and then…she shot Johann in the back of the head right there!” he wailed, wringing his hands again. Erich's eyes were so wide with terror in his recollection that the lens almost captured the long lost humanity in them. “Just like that, Mr. Cleave! Right in front of me without even thinking twice, she shot my sire for a lie I told. I betrayed him and I betrayed Leslie, because Yvetta immediately promoted me and told me to help her hunt Leslie down!”
“You had to or she would have killed you,” Sam's voice sounded through the speaker.
“Do you know what it is like, Mr. Cleave? To live your whole life a wretch because your recklessness caused your woman's death?”
Oh shit, thought Nina, quickly glancing at Sam, wondering if he was thinking of the same thing she was – that his passion for getting a good story inadvertently got his fiancé killed right in front of him. Nina wondered if Sam still cried in his sleep when his recurring nightmares cheated him out of saving Trish to perpetuate his guilt complex.
But Sam did not return
her gaze. Either he was actively fighting the horrible recollection or he was simply past the compunction. So she let it go, not having heard if the voice behind the camera lens even answered the wasting, weeping man.
“A day after running my beloved Leslie into a corner, Yvetta killed her like a dog after she…we… hunted her down in the outskirts of a small village a few miles away. They never told me where Yvetta's men dumped her body. Jesus! What have I done? Wh-what have I done? I was in love with her moments after I met her and that was what I gave her as a gift?”
They watched Erich curl up in his chair, sobbing like a child. Shifting uncomfortably in their seats, Joanne, Nina, and Sam sat watching Erich Bonn breaking down while the camera kept rolling. From under his hands he wailed. “I still hear her shivering breath before those gunshots ripped twice through her beautiful face. I still hear her at night. Oh Jesus, she must have been so cold before we caught up with her. So very cold! So very lonely.”
Again Nina looked at Sam. He had to relate to seeing his lover's face get blown off. It had happened to Leslie. And it had happened to Patricia. As the camera swayed, with the Low Battery light flashing on the display, Sam looked at Nina in silent reverence and sorrow. Until the clip ran its full length, the historian and the journalist – best friends, former lovers, confidants – just basked in each others eyes. They both knew. They both cared and they both found the experience deeply therapeutic.
“Well,” Joanne broke the thrall with a loud exclamation that shattered any emotional reminiscence, “now we know what happened to Leslie.”
“Aye,” Nina agreed, but her words were directed at Sam. “But I’m sure she is at peace now. He did love her and the world knows.”
In the glare of the monitor screen Nina noticed an unusual glimmer in Sam's dark eyes before a single tear escaped and fell from his cheek.
18
Going Down to Die
Purdue woke up in a moving car, but unlike what he’d had expected, he was not en route to the Oban Police Precinct. This only affirmed his assumption about the phony police officer. He kept his eyes shut to ascertain his position and destination first. It was imperative to keep his consciousness secret for now, since he had no idea what his condition would prompt in the man who’d abducted him.
Is he going to take me to Nina? he wondered in the dark of his charade. This has to be the man who took her. Hopefully I’m just a loose end he will keep as leverage until I can figure out what he wants with us.'
With his eyes closed it was very difficult to see where they were driving, but Purdue could tell that it was a highway of sorts by the way in which the car smoothly changed lanes and he could hear passing cars speed by frequently. Other than that, he had no idea who the man was, what he wanted, or just how expendable his kidnap victims were. Whenever in doubt, Purdue had learned through many trials, play dead, look asleep, or behave oblivious in some way. It was a trick that had worked as well in the hazards of his life as it had in a poker game. To add to his vexation, he’d been relieved of his wrist watch. Of his own design, his watch recorded global positioning details and performed a wealth of other functions, functions he could have found very useful right now.
The phone rang over the car's hands-free system. The sound was quickly smothered by the rapid reaction of Jonathan Beck, who feared that his prize would awaken from the din.
“Beck,” he answered.
Purdue memorized the name. An eloquent voice with an Austrian accent spoke over the speaker.
“You said you had the order ready to ship?”
“Yes, I do. But it’s not the order you placed the other day. I have good news,” Beck said next to Purdue, who listened keenly while deciphering the metaphors as they came. “I am delivering your original order instead.”
The person on the other side of the line paused before responding in a satisfied tone. “Which shipping address do we use? I’m in the United Kingdom this week, on business. You can deliver the package to my mother's house at the coast. You do remember the way?”
“Like it was yesterday,” Beck replied.
“Good. There will be someone to sign for the parcel when you deliver,” the voice concluded before he ended the call.
The car hummed along monotonously and Purdue's static physical position was beginning to agonize him. His back ached, his swollen face was on fire and he had a crippling headache threatening to split his skull in two. At a railroad crossing, Purdue parted his eyelids ever so slightly, keeping his frame absolutely motionless. To the side of the car holding him he saw a sign that revealed his location – the town of Stirling, about two hours' drive from Oban. Still, the information profited him nothing. More so, it would be better once he knew who he was being delivered to. The ‘why’ almost always pointed to money, but this time he had more to offer than money. Being a fugitive made him a very valuable asset, and a lucrative one at that.
More than ever Purdue missed his manor. He could do very well now with the use of his staff and his investigators, not to mention his technology, to track Nina's whereabouts. Not a nostalgic character by far, Purdue found that he pined for the simple days of fundraisers and academic award ceremonies. He missed being a stuck-up asshole who stole away the affection of board members' wives, flirted with struggling undergrads, enjoyed the attention of royalty and heads of state for his philanthropy, and having a visible career as explorer and inventor. He would never have believed that at some point during his life he would end up with a budget, not –so-temporarily destitute, and above all, curled up on a car seat that sported upholstery that had seen better days. He would never have dreamed that he would be a hostage on his way to being traded like fowl at a country fair. But his ever-present opportunistic positivity soon kicked Purdue into gear and he decided that he could let them have their way, or he could do what he was known best for – outwit those who tried to subdue him. However, that would have to wait until he knew the identity of his new subjugator.
The car swung hard to the right and Purdue knocked his head against the window, inadvertently uttering a yelp of alarm at the thump on his already throbbing skull.
“Oh, you're awake, Mr. Purdue,” the fake cop noted from the driver’s seat.
Purdue ignored him, but Beck just laughed. He was languishing in the fact that he practically had a treasure in his possession, only this one was not held by a chest. This treasure walked around bound in skin and possessed his own fortune and this presented a third option for Beck. Purdue could decide to make him a counter offer and pay him double what Karsten had paid him to kidnap the billionaire. That was a delectable notion and one Beck did not want to neglect, but he kept it to himself for now. Obviously he did not know David Purdue as well as he should have.
“Where are we going?” Purdue asked, pretending to be oblivious of the town while counting the streets and memorizing beacons. He knew Stirling quite well, but that too, was his enigma to conceal.
“That’s not for you to worry about, my friend,” Beck answered. “Just sit tight. We’re almost there. If you behave like a gentleman, we might loosen your cable ties a bit.”
“I don't care, old boy,” Purdue remarked and looked out the window, looking into his own reflection by the acquiescence of the dashboard lights and the negation of the darkness outside.
All he cared about was if Nina was also kept in the house of the caller's mother. He would trade himself for Nina's freedom in a heartbeat, yet he was beginning to worry about something pertinent to his abduction. Had they killed Nina? How else would this man, Beck, would he have needed to refer to an original order and the latest order?
Purdue's intelligence was not confined to science or technology. Re-running the phone conversation in the car gave him several hints as to the situation, but not tangible enough to act upon until he was certain. The two orders placed were clearly referring to him and Nina, but according to the discussion only he, Purdue, was now on the table; a most alarming thought.
Along the belly o
f the dragon that the River Forth resembled in its meandering beauty the car turned away from the main road. They had left Sterling. This had to be the picturesque village, he thought, where he had once donated a sum toward the Primary School in person. When they passed the familiar building Purdue was sure – he was to be traded in the village of Fallin, but to whom, he did not know.
Lightning blinked behind the curtain of clouds that only afforded the world a glimpse of their existence with every flash. Under the arch of an old black metal arbor, Purdue discerned the entrance to a neglected, empty yard. There were nothing but lost trees in the abandoned terrain of thorn bushes and wild grass. Parting the wild landscape, the small cobbled road they were on ran straight ahead toward nothing at all. It reminded Purdue of a residence in Finland he’d once visited with Sam and Nina, its yard appearing similarly abandoned until they realized that the house was simply rendered invisible by a trick of science.
“Wrong turn?” Purdue mocked, but he silently hoped he was correct in his assumption.
“You wish, pal,” Beck smiled. He rolled down his window as they stopped aside an amorphous ruin that could perhaps once have been a gate post. “Let's just get you to the party so that I can get paid.” Beck said, casually waiting for Purdue to make him a huge counter offer. He was sorely disappointed. Purdue sat silently, surveying his surroundings. Beck knew that his captive had heard him loud and clear, so he took Purdue's refrain as an answer.
Beck turned a dial on the strange old post and with one click turned it to the right. A small red light appeared below it and a moment later Purdue could hear a static sound as if Beck had turned on an old radio. He was quite correct. Over a speaker that was obviously well concealed Beck spoke to yet another unknown voice, much in the same fashion as his previous conversation on the hands-free set.
“Who is it?” an old woman's voice asked firmly.
Order of the Black Sun Box Set 6 Page 29
