by David Nees
He rolled up his blanket and then stopped. There was the sound of soft crying coming from the Rover. He walked around and opened the rear passenger door. Evangeline was lying on the bench seat sniffling and whimpering, still half asleep. Dan reached out his hand and touched her head.
“What’s wrong Evangeline?”
“I don’t know,” she said in between quiet sobs.
He raised her head up and scooted into the seat. He cradled her head and upper body in his arms as she lay across the seat.
“We had a nice evening and we’re going to have a better day today, one without threats or danger.”
“That’s just it,” she said. “Last night was so nice. I started to miss my mother. We never got to share anything nice like that…and we never will.”
Her sobs became stronger, racking her body as she buried her face in Dan’s chest. All he could do was hold her and rock her gently back and forth while she cried and cried. Her tears flowed; it was as if a dam holding years of grief had burst and the flood waters of anguish were rushing out.
“It’s all right; I’ve got you. You’re grieving for your mother. It’s normal. It has to come out at some time.”
“I have never let myself go there,” she said between sobs. “It seemed too dangerous, like I would get lost.”
“Maybe it was, but you’re safe now, so you can let it out.”
Some minutes later she calmed down, spent. She wiped her nose on the blanket.
She looked at him. “I miss her so much.”
“You kept all of that emotion bottled up. Maybe you were too scared. Now it can come out; now that you’re in a better place.”
“But it’s so painful,” she said in an agonized voice. “She was my best friend. She was only fourteen when she had me. We were like sisters…we were sisters…in a perverted way…”
“In a good way also. The relationship between the two of you was special, not only due to the circumstances, but also to how strong your mother was. It’s okay to be sad but don’t be afraid to enjoy the good things now. I lost my wife and she isn’t here to enjoy last night’s experience. That’s something she and I will never share. It’s what I have to live with. But I know she wants me to enjoy life. I just hold her in my heart and never let her go.”
Evangeline reached up to stroke Dan’s cheek and slide her arm around his neck. “How can you understand so well?”
“The gift…from the Shaman. It seems like a blessing and a curse. Now that I’ve recognized it I can’t turn it off. I felt the emptiness you felt that your mother was not there to enjoy last night. I also felt the sense of guilt on your part. Don’t buy into that, whatever you do. You have the right to enjoy life. She gave up her own so you could do just that. You’re free to take control over your life now.”
Later that morning they set out on the road, heading straight to Milan, bypassing Venice. In Milan Dan parked the Land Rover in a garage at Milan Linate Airport. Then they took a taxi to the Milano Centrale train station, an imposing, bombastic structure begun in the early twentieth century. The roof stretched over the equivalent of ten soccer fields providing cover for the largest flow of trains in Europe. Muscular statues adorned the façade with winged horses predominant. The building was a mix of baroque, classical, and art deco. A repeated adornment was the bundle of rods and axe, a symbol of ancient Rome which Mussolini adopted for his fascist logo. The effect was one of intimidation more than grandiosity.
The walls of the main gallery presented large murals on the wall depicting various cities in Italy and the rest of Europe. There were art deco mosaics that depicted the artist’s interpretation of the wonders of rail travel. From this six hundred by sixty-foot space you descended a grand staircase onto the boarding platform. Light streamed in from the curved glass skylights set in the ceiling of the main gallery and the boarding platforms.
The pomposity of the building was lost on both Dan and Evangeline. He was on full alert for threats and she had seen it before and had very little interest in its history. From Milan it was a three-hour ride to Rome. They could relax.
Once in Rome, Dan rented a car under his alias and, as they were leaving the station, called Jane.
“I’m on the ground,” she said after answering. “Where should we meet?”
“Do you have a car?”
“Yes.”
“Meet me on via della Travicella. It’s southwest of Roma Termini near Parco Regionali Appia Antica.” Dan had worked out a secluded place to meet.
“How the hell am I supposed to find that?”
“Look it up on your GPS. It’s a small cobblestone road with walls on each side in an empty industrial section. No one can see what’s on the road because of the walls. We can meet and you can take Evangeline. Tell me what you’re driving.”
Jane told Dan and they agreed to meet in a half hour.
When Jane turned onto the della Travicella she saw Dan’s car pulled up close to the wall on the right side of the road. She parked behind him and walked to the car.
“Right on time,” Dan said. “Jane, meet Evangeline. Evangeline this is Jane.” He spoke Italian which Evangeline and Jane both understood.
“So you’re the girl who’s causing such a stir.”
Evangeline looked at Jane with a critical eye. She saw a good looking, mature woman who had an air of competence and success about her. She took an instant dislike to her, instinctively thinking of her as a rival, one of two women with whom Dan was connected. As she was evaluating her assets against Jane’s, Dan spoke up.
“Ladies I want you to get along. Things are too critical and too dangerous for any spats.”
“I apologize,” Jane said. “I didn’t mean any criticism by my comment. But Dan’s rescuing you did seem to stir up a firestorm of activity.”
“It’s not my fault.” Evangeline replied with some snippiness in her voice. “In fact, I didn’t want him to help me at first.” Then she smiled and put a hand on Dan’s shoulder, claiming her territory. “But now I realize that he’s helped me recover my life. I don’t know how to thank him.”
“That was the one good thing Dan mentioned to me before I authorized the operation. If nothing else, he could save a teenager’s future.”
Dan interjected. “Now we’re entering a new phase. Evangeline, you’re going to go with Jane. You’ll be safe and I need you to tell her everything you can about Aebischer’s activities.” He pointedly did not call him her father. “You can trust her. Everything you told me you can tell Jane. She’ll listen and understand. She won’t judge you. It will all help.”
Evangeline started to shake her head in the negative.
“If you don’t want to go into some of the details, that’s fine. No one knows about them but me. But you need to make it clear to Jane who Aebischer is and his role in your…mother’s death.”
“What are you going to do?” Evangeline asked.
“I’m going to meet with Conti. We’re going to have a talk and then I’m going to turn him over to Jane.”
“Who are you?” Evangeline asked. “And who is this woman? She is your boss?”
“She’s my boss, and my helper. Who we are is not important. That we can help you that we can stop Aebischer and bring him to some justice. That is what is important.”
“You can’t arrest him. My testimony won’t stand in the face of his money and bribes. I told you he’s built up a case against me for mental instability, even insanity.”
“Don’t worry, we won’t be arresting him.”
“Then what…?” Evangeline stopped mid-sentence. She began to suspect Aebischer’s fate might be worse with these people.
“We better wrap this up. I don’t want to stay here too long,” Dan said. “Where are you going to go?”
“We’ve got a place north of Milan. We’ll drive there this afternoon.” She gave Dan the address.
The two women got out and walked back to Jane’s car.
“You don’t have any change of clothe
s,” Jane noted.
Evangeline shook her head. “We never had a chance to get any.”
Jane slipped her arm through Evangeline’s, “Then we’ll do some shopping before we leave for Milan.”
Evangeline started to smile at the thought of new clothes.
Dan watched the women drive off. He was about to get into his car when he saw an old man coming down the road. He was pushing a cart filled with junk. He looked like someone collecting other people’s trash to try to find something of small value that he could use or sell.
But Dan noticed something else. The man made direct eye contact with him, unusual for a street person; they did not look for confrontation. An enemy in disguise? Dan thought not. The old man had that intensity he’d seen in other places. In Mexico City and most recently in St. Mark’s Plaza in Venice. Dan hesitated outside of his car.
“Who are you?” He asked as the man stopped beside the car.
He had the dark, intense eyes of the woman in Venice. “Who I am is not important. You know what I am.”
He spoke in a thick, Sicilian accented Italian.
“You have something for me?” Dan asked.
The man nodded.
“You’re going to meet Pietro Conti—”
“How did you know?”
“Always the unimportant questions. What is important is for you to know he will try to double cross you, to ambush you. He has sent for some men to help him.”
“But I still need to meet with him.”
The man nodded. He reached into his pocket. Dan stiffened but didn’t move. The man pulled a piece of paper out and handed it to Dan. There were two addresses on it.
“Meet him here.” He pointed to the first address. “It is a good spot.”
“And the second address?”
“You watch from there. You can get to the roof and deal with the men who will try to kill you. But remain vigilant. Pietro may have a final surprise for you. Be ready.”
He turned to go.
“How did you find me here? This is a secluded spot. I picked it for that purpose.”
The man turned back to Dan. “A Watcher knows. We are watching…helping…where we can.”
With that he shuffled off pushing his cart.
Dan marveled at this network of people. They lived on the margins of society, humble, ignored by most, avoided by others. But they had a gift and used it to help him. That gift could probably make them fortunes but they didn’t pursue gain in the material world. They pursued success on the spiritual side of reality and he was somehow part of their plans.
He got into his car and punched in Pietro Conti’s number.
“Signore Conti,” Dan said when he answered. “I have the girl and it’s time to make the exchange.”
Pietro’s eyes widened. He couldn’t believe his luck. There was no way he was going to find such a secretive man, a man whose face he was not even sure of, but here he was, on the phone, wanting to make the exchange. Pietro felt he had been given a new opportunity to complete what had become a failed mission.
“Sì, sì, we can make the exchange. When you didn’t show up I was worried. I heard through the news about the attack at Feriz’s compound, but nothing from you.”
“You seem to have a leak in your organization, and someone who doesn’t want me to succeed. We ran into some trouble.”
“Trouble?” Conti played dumb. He wanted to find out what had happened.
“Just something that delayed me a bit. The important thing is I have the girl and she is in good condition, healthy.”
“Bene, bene. Where should we meet?”
“I will tell you just before we do the exchange. How soon can you be in Rome?”
“Tomorrow.”
“I’ll call you tomorrow and let you know what to do.”
“I don’t even know your name. What do I call you?”
“You don’t have to call me anything. Just answer when I call. Don’t forget the money. And Pietro…remember this will be a dangerous time for you.”
Dan hung up. He would tell Pietro the address later, after he had checked everything out and set up his counter strike.
Pietro Conti sat back in his office in Zürich. His head swirled. Could he now finish what Herr Aebischer had charged him to do? The opportunity now presented itself, but there was something unsettling about the assassin’s calmness. He should have been angry but he wasn’t. He should have accused Conti of a double cross; that was what the assassin had to think. The men Conti sent were supposed to kill him. Pietro had by now learned that instead, both were dead. And the man had acted as if nothing important had happened and that it was not connected to Pietro. Was the assassin setting him up?
Dan drove around the ring road to the address given him by the Watcher. He turned off onto A90 and into an industrial and warehouse section of the city. He drove around in the late afternoon until he found the spot. It could not be seen from any drivers passing by. The warehouses were older; not in neat, orderly rows, which resulted in small, semi-closed courtyards. The warehouses surrounding the meeting point had flat roofs where Dan suspected Pietro would position shooters. The Watcher spoke of a double cross. Pietro was going to try to kill him…again.
The second address was an unfinished apartment building with a high, flat roof on two levels that could be accessed from stairs leading up from the top parking level. It looked like the developer had planned to use the roof as part of the amenities of the building. From the upper one he had a good view of the roofs surrounding the courtyard where he would meet Conti.
If Conti posted shooters on the roofs, Dan would see them from his vantage point. Because of this information from the Watcher, Dan could neutralize the ambush before he drove into the courtyard.
Chapter 31
___________________________________
J ane took Evangeline into the historic center of Rome. The Galleria Alberto Sordi was a luxurious shopping mall, six stories set in a beautiful old building. It was located on the east side of the Piazza Colona, a plaza with a Doric column honoring the emperor Marcus Aurelius which had stood since AD193. They spent over two hours lost in shopping amidst the high-end shops, struggling to find more practical clothes among the fashion items in the stores.
They stopped at one of the many eateries in the shopping galleria for lunch. After leaving, Jane led them through some side streets, being careful to check for tails, where they found a more practical sports-oriented shop to complete Evangeline’s new wardrobe. With the shopping complete, Jane headed north to Milan, her relationship with Evangeline considerably improved.
Pietro Conti called his employer, Jan Luis Aebischer.
“Herr Aebischer, the assassin called me. He wants to make the exchange. He says he has Evangeline and she is in good health.”
There was a pause on the line. “He wants his final payment. Did you get the other information I asked of you?”
“Not yet Herr Aebischer. I’m working on it. But don’t you want me to get this situation resolved?”
“Yes. Make sure you close the trail down. Bring Evangeline to Zürich, to the residence. It will be good to have her home again.”
“Ja wohl.”
When the phone went dead, Pietro punched in another number.
“Am fluss Alte Bücher,” Old Books by the water, the voice said. The speaker spoke German with an Austrian accent
“I’m not looking for a book, but I have a cleaning project in a private library. Do you have an opening in your schedule?” Pietro asked.
“How many do you need?”
“Three should be enough. Have them bring all their tools. I’ll go over the work with them and they can choose what to use.”
“When do you need the work done?”
“Later this week. I’m waiting for a call.”
“You know there will be a surcharge for expedited services.”
“I understand. How much will the bill come to?”
The man on the other l
ine answered in code, dropping off two zeroes from his pricing.
“Three men, rush service…that will come to one thousand Euros.”
“That is fairly steep,” Pietro replied.
“You’re free to hire anyone you like. Thank you for calling.”
“Nein, nein. Don’t hang up. The price is fine. I’m sure I can convince my employer.”
“I don’t reserve rush work. You accept now or find another service provider. If you accept, I’ll expect a fifty percent deposit within twenty-four hours. Otherwise I will not hold the schedule open. You know where to send it.” The man hung up.
Pietro stared at his phone. This adventure of rescuing Evangeline was getting expensive. Of course, if the cleaners did their job, the assassin’s half of the payment could be used to pay them and Herr Aebischer would be money ahead. Pietro knew his employer thought about such matters.
He put those thoughts aside and started arrangements for the money transfer of 50,000 Euros to an address in Munich. The address housed a small used book store that eked out a living in a city known for its publishing industry. There was an abundance of books expressing a conservative political theme but the proprietor, a solidly built compact man, seemed to hold no prejudices in either direction. Max Richter always expressed his love of the art of the book, its printing and binding. He could be relied on to recount interesting stories about many of the older books in his shop. The stories were always entertaining, if sometimes fanciful.
In the store there was a small backroom where Max’s main work was done. It was done without drama, with the greatest security, and made him quietly rich. He kept his wealth hidden behind the persona of a musty book lover making a modest living involved in what he loved…books.
That afternoon the book seller logged into a Swiss bank account under one of his aliases. He checked the balance and noted that 50,000 Euros had been transferred to his account. The instructions on the account caused it to immediately be split up and moved into three different banks under different accounts for various front companies. The funds were for organizing and arranging meetings and presentations for corporate clients and their guests. He smiled.
