by Peche, Alec
“There are some documents inside an envelope addressed to the Antwerp police that seem to duplicate what was on the chip, although they may not be as up-to-date. She lays out in great detail her theft operation and the role the individual consortium members play in it. Included in that notebook were detailed discussions each time Laura fought for an increased percentage of the value of the diamonds. I’m no attorney, but this seems like solid evidence to prosecute someone.”
“So really, no new information, just more solid proof of the consortium members’ roles in these crimes,” Willems commented.
“Actually we saved the best accounting document for last,” said Jo with a huge grin on her face. “The final item in the box is a list of politicians, customs, police, insurance, and Interpol agents in the employ of the diamond consortium in Belgium and other countries, including the euro amount used as bribes for matters relating to the diamond business. We cross-checked some of those amounts with bank records, tax records, and corporate filings on Euronext, the European stock exchange. We have just scratched the surface, but we can see the fund transfers between several people listed in this document. It is quite an explosive finding. How Laura learned about it is anyone’s guess, but I bet that is why Mr. Bok was so angry – not only was she taking him for a ride on the diamonds, but she likely used her information on their political ‘contributions’ to maintain her own safety.
“The political contribution list was found only in Laura's safe-deposit box and not Chloe's. From some of the notes in the box I've had the impression that the remainder of the consortium was opposed to killing Laura, but Mr. Bok was out of control. When you really look at the situation, he had nothing to lose. His company would soon stop production and then he would have no company reputation to worry about preserving. I guess he thought he wouldn't get caught as her death would be classified as an allergic reaction, so he didn't worry about the criminal charges related to this case.”
“Mr. Bok should be arriving at this building at any moment,” announced Dubois. “We have a lot of material to question him on. In addition to the extraordinary work you have done with Laura’s documents, we will question him on a few other issues including Chloe's death and Jill’s queries from earlier in the day. As I indicated earlier, you ladies are not allowed to participate in the interview of Mr. Bok. I am not even sure which language we will conduct the interview in – English, French, or Russian. I expect this interview will take several hours. I would prefer that you stay in this building until we have more clarity on the role of the consortium.”
Jill looked at her three friends just to reconfirm that they were all on the same page. “Since we are on vacation here, we will pass on the opportunity to stay within this building. There are a couple art museums that we will be visiting while you're doing the interview. Officer Dubois, please text me when you're done and ready to discuss the findings of that interview.”
Dubois nodded his agreement and the meeting broke up. The Belgian police and Interpol needed to quickly strategize on the handling of the interview of Alexei Bok. They discussed whether they needed to inform the Russian embassy at this particular time, and decided they could delay that diplomatic courtesy. The fewest bribes on Laura's list went to the Russians. Likely this was a reflection of the diamond company’s diminishing impact on Russian politics, with its power being as hard to find as the diamonds in the dying mine.
Nick asked Officer Dubois to direct them to a back-alley exit from the building. If indeed someone wanted to kidnap the women, there was no reason to make it easy for them. They paused before exiting to decide which museum to visit first. In the end, they decided to visit the Chocolate Museum and the Musical Instruments Museum. If there was time, they were to visit the Royal Museum of the Armed Forces. They liked that all three museums were unique to Brussels and were not classic art museums. Exiting the building, Nick and Nathan each flagged a cab for the ride to the Chocolate Museum.
There was a café across the street from the museum and the group decided it would be best to have a real meal before potentially indulging in chocolate at their museum stop.
“It looks like we will be able to leave here tomorrow as scheduled,” commented Marie. “Nick, are you going to come visit us in the United States? Have you ever traveled to the U.S.?”
“Yes, I have visited New York and I plan to visit the U.S. in the near future. I have had so much fun getting to know you Americans, and I've been thinking about expanding my company. I would like to explore offering my services in the U.S., and have actually started researching to determine where I might want to open my first office. Can you suggest some cities where hotel security has not been taken to the next level? I am thinking that large city hotels are already well organized from a security perspective and small city hotels may not have a need at this time for better security. So, Marie, Jo, and Angela, I would be looking at cities like Milwaukee and Madison. Jill and Nathan, sorry, but you don't seem to have any medium-sized cities in California. I am just starting my research of what it takes to open a business in America at this time, so I will have to see what further information tells me.
“Maybe you could consult for the Green Bay Packers,” Angela suggested. “I am sure that they have worries about player security when they're on the road in a hostile city.”
“That is actually an interesting proposition. I have a friend who is an executive with Manchester United. I'll check in with him as to what precautions their soccer team takes when they're on the road playing an opponent. Maybe that will be a new source of business in Europe.”
They finished their lunch and crossed the street to the Chocolate Museum. Their visit ended up being a short forty-five minutes with a warm chocolate sample being provided at the end. Next they headed for the Musical Instruments Museum. None of them were able to read music or play an instrument. An audio tour guided them, through their headphones, around the four floors of the collection. There were some amazing instruments on display, some dating back over one thousand years. Emerging two hours later, everyone in the group was better educated on music and instruments. They had had fun trying out a few of the instruments that the public was allowed to touch, despite the experience confirming the lack of musical ability in the group.
With no word from Dubois, they caught a bus to the Royal Museum of the Armed Forces, which had received rave reviews. Jill had two favorite museums in Washington, D.C. – the National Archives and the Museum of American History. To some degree she was reminded of those museums while learning European history from the Belgian perspective. A couple years earlier, she and Angela had visited Gallipoli while on tour in Turkey. Like on the Gallipoli visit, she felt the emotional impact of the two World Wars from a non-American view.
Upon the museum tour’s completion they discussed where to go eat their final meal in Brussels. They wanted Belgian food as it was not a cuisine readily available in the U.S. Nick consulted with a friend who recommended a restaurant relatively close to their present location. They had started walking down the street toward their destination when Jill received a text from Dubois indicating there would be a meeting in thirty minutes.
Jill announced, “There is a meeting in thirty minutes at Interpol. We could decline to attend and enjoy a wonderful Belgian dinner...”
“Jill, are you nuts?” exclaimed Marie. “For the amount of work we have put in on this case, gratis, we need to see it through. I would rather go to the meeting and find out what Bok said during the interview.”
“I have to agree with Marie,” Jo concurred. “I want to hear his explanation for killing Laura.”
“Okay, I guess I am happily outvoted. Just checking in with you guys; you have to admit that this has been our strangest vacation ever. Yet, I think for the most part, we have seen everything that was on our must-see list. We just have not had much downtime.”
Nick and Nathan again hailed cabs to take them back to Interpol. It had been an uneventful day and Nathan hoped it would con
tinue to be quiet. They reached the building, went through the usual security precautions, and were escorted upstairs to the conference room. This time it was just Ms. Bernard, Willems, and Dubois in the room. The group figured the others must have already heard the results of Bok’s interrogation.
“We were just about to head for dinner when we got your text,” commented Jill as they entered the room. “Did everyone else go home already after they heard your report?”
“Actually no, everyone is following up on some piece of information in this case,” Dubois replied. “Between the information that we received during our interrogation of Bok and what was in the political contribution letter this morning, we have a lot of work to do to break open the diamond consortium and its bribes worldwide. Your own FBI is interested in this case as there were some U.S. politicians named in Laura's list.
“Let me start with what we learned from Bok. I'll start with the question that has bothered you, Jill, from the beginning. The day that Laura consumed the chocolate with nuts in, she’d an altercation with Bok in her store earlier. He timed it perfectly as she typically had an hour in the afternoon where she was the only person in the jewelry store. He entered the store, pulled a gun on her, and before she could hit her silent alarm button, required her to open her safe. He wanted to take the raw diamonds that she had in the safe as they were not traceable; in fact, he wanted to take everything of value from Laura. She had taken a bottle of water with her into the room where the safe was located. When he said he wanted the diamonds, she quickly moved them from the tray to her mouth and swallowed them with the water. She knew that even if he shot her, it would not give him the diamonds back.
“He left the store enraged, as she had thwarted him once again. He walked immediately to Mr. Jacobs’ shop and demanded he sell her the nut extract-tainted chocolate the next time she stopped in his shop. He told the shopkeeper he would stop by every two days to re-inject freshly made chocolate with the extract. He lucked out because Laura stopped by the chocolate store later that same day. She was mad, because for the first time in her life she would have to figure out the process for extracting the diamonds from her own body’s waste system. She was fuming and stopped at Mr. Jacobs’ shop on her way to meet Chloe for dinner. She normally wouldn’t eat chocolate on the way to dinner, but it was her go-to solution when she was having a bad day. She ate the chocolate as she strolled through the streets to the restaurant. I think you know the remainder of the story.”
“Did either Bok or Jacobs comment on the missing EpiPen?” asked Jill.
Willems and Dubois looked at each other for a few seconds before Willems responded, “Neither gentleman commented on the EpiPen, nor we did we specifically ask what happened to it.”
“Did Bok indicate whether he was involved in Chloe’s killing?” asked Marie.
“We asked if he was responsible for her death, and it seemed to me he was genuinely surprised to be told she was dead. He saw her as an assistant to be dismissed as his attention was focused totally on Laura.”
“Then was Bok not aware that Chloe was Laura’s partner in crime?” probed Jo. “I find it hard to believe that consortium members would claim ignorance of Laura’s method of thievery and who her accomplices were on the job.”
“I guess we’ll know the answer to that question when we bring the remainder of the consortium members in for questioning,” said Dubois. “We have issued a blue notice to all Interpol offices worldwide to work with local law enforcement for these arrests. As you can imagine, our first effort is focused on finding these men, as we don’t necessarily know where they are and they have the financial resources to be anywhere on earth.”
“It seems that our work here is done,” said Jill. “There are still unanswered questions, but it sounds like you’ll find those answers when you question the consortium CEOs. You have Laura’s killer in custody and you have the basis for a prosecution started. You don’t have Chloe’s killer, but then that is not the case we were brought in to consult on.”
“We leave for home tomorrow. It has been a pleasure getting to know you gentlemen and the financial systems of Europe,” Jo declared.
“It has also been a pleasure working with you,” Dubois replied. “I think Interpol will likely being following up with you through our U.S. office to see if we can arrange training on background checks and financial records examination like Marie and Jo provided during this case. While I think we would have gleaned the same information eventually, you ladies were so much faster at arriving at conclusions and we would benefit from your knowledge.”
“Likewise, from the Belgian State Police, we appreciate your expertise and likely we will be participating in whatever training is arranged by Interpol,” said Willems.
The group shook hands and left the conference room working their way toward the front door with a restaurant destination in mind. Nick had figured out that the spot his friend had recommended was within walking distance, and they set out on foot for dinner.
They were about four blocks away from the Interpol building in a deserted industrial area when a delivery van slammed on it brakes beside the group. Six men jumped out, each holding a Taser and pepper spray canisters, as they quickly surrounded the group.
A thousand thoughts were running through the heads of Jill’s group. Nathan was doing calculations as to whether he could get off any kicks before being hit by pepper spray or a Taser stream. Nick spent seconds retrieving his cellphone out of his pants pocket and preparing to dial 1-1-2, the emergency number in Belgium. Jill was thinking about how wrong they had all been that the case was over. Jo was trying to escape in her mind to a safe place, while Marie was readying her large purse as a swinging weapon. Angela was capturing everything she could on camera. Most of all, they felt like they were in slow motion, as though time was standing still.
There was heavy breathing by the captors and captives and for a few additional seconds the outcome hung in the balance. Then it disappeared in a puff of smoke as the captives decided individually not to fight the men from the van.
Relieving them of their cellphones, the men tied each member of the group’s hands in front of them and they were ordered into the back-end of the vehicle. Inside, the lights were bright and there was a collection of bean bag chairs to sit on. Two of their captors got inside the back with them. The captors stood in harnesses, which still gave them aim with the pepper spray but lent them stability for the ride. No one was man-handled in any way, so Jill viewed the situation as that whoever wanted them at the moment, wanted them alive and well.
The men’s English was accented with a Slavic tone, Jill guessed. She was trying to figure out who was after them – there had been a few loose ends when they’d left Interpol, but this seemed like overkill.
“What do you want with us?” asked Jill. “Who hired you? Are you Russian? Where are we going?”
Not surprisingly, they received no answers.
Nick had the nerve to grin at the ladies and said in a low tone, “I told you I haven’t had this much entertainment in a long time.”
Angela thought silly man, but said, “Did you miss the Taser and pepper spray? We’re not being invited to a picnic.”
“Snarky comments aside, what do we do next? I’ve never been kidnapped before,” said Marie. “You ladies at least had some prior trouble in Puerto Rico. Jo and I are newbies at this.”
“Let’s put our heads together and discuss who wants us for perhaps a conversation, and is it somehow related to this case?” suggested Nathan. “Jill, what are the loose ends in this case? Let’s start there.”
Jill smiled and leaned over to kiss Nathan’s cheek since she couldn’t hug him with her hands tied, and murmured “you’re the best, my rock, thank you.”
“In answer to your question, we don’t know who killed Chloe; we don’t know who the men that surrounded the Interpol building were. We don’t know who dropped a smoke grenade in our hotel room. It doesn’t seem likely that it was Mr. Jacobs or M
r. Bok.”
“I agree with Jill,” Jo said. “I think we have a few other loose ends but they are much smaller when compared to the ones that Jill mentioned.”
The van’s walls had no windows, so they had no idea where they were traveling. They were moving at a good speed, so they must be on the highway. They were all racking their brains wondering who wanted them. Less than two hours later, according to Jill’s watch, they slowed and seemed to leave the highway. After another ten minutes, they slowed again and then continued for another short distance.
The van doors were opened and the group was escorted into a house. Nick and Nathan viewed the lands around the house looking for an escape. They knew all of the women could run if need be, but they had no phone, no weapons other than their martial-art skills, and four women to guard.
Inside the house, they were shown into a parlor, seated in very heavy armchairs, and offered refreshments. The ties were removed from both wrists and each wrist was re-secured to the arm of the chair they were seated in. If they were going to run, they would have to take the chair with them somehow. There was enough slack in the rope that they could hold a glass and drink, but they couldn’t untie the other hand. Jill, worried about any drugs that could be added to the beverages, advised the others not to drink. Their captors, overhearing this, exited the room and returned with a sealed drink that they could hear pop when the seal was broken prior to pouring.
A few minutes later, the door opened and a gentleman walked in. None of the six recognized him. He smiled at them and said, “Good evening. Sorry to bring you out to this house with your hands tied, but I needed to have a conversation with you before you leave tomorrow for the United States. I mean you no harm.”
“Who are you?” asked Jill. “You know you could have left a message at the hotel requesting a meeting with us. Why are our hands still tied if you mean us no harm?”
“I am Laura Peeters’ husband. My name is Henrik Klein and you are at my country home in Germany, about ninety minutes from Brussels. Laura and I were married seven years ago in your Las Vegas.”
