Indisputable Proof

by Gary Williams

  “Did you look outside the city at surrounding towns?”

  Bar chuckled. “I checked the entire country of Switzerland. They weren’t registered anywhere. For one night, they fell off the grid. The next day, all three men flew out to their respective home countries.”

  “What about Aaron Conin? Was he in Switzerland?”

  “No, and beyond the fact he had fibers from the Sudarium and Ramsey made a phone call to him, I still don’t know his relationship to anyone involved.”

  “Speaking of Boyd Ramsey,” Bar continued, “you asked about his fingerprints at the Oviedo and Costa Rica crime scenes and on the communiqué sent to the Spanish press. Strangely, the print in all three cases—the partials and the full print—are from Ramsey’s ring finger on his left hand. Do you think they were planted?”

  “I’d rather not speculate.”

  “Vakind was able to convince President Fane to hold off escalating the terror alert until 12 hours before the Sudarium is to go on display. That gives you...18 hours to find the Sudarium and return it to Oviedo for the start of the Feast of the Cross.”

  Tolen released a silent sigh. Diaz had been right. They had spent too much time on a treasure hunt which had diverted Tolen from his primary objective: securing the Sudarium. With 18 hours until the first potential strike against U.S. citizens, Tolen still had no idea where Boyd Ramsey or the Sudarium were. Time was now his enemy, and given the fact that thread samples from the Sudarium were found in Conin’s lab, his assumption that the holy relic had never left Europe now appeared wrong. Again he scolded himself for getting so far off track.

  “But the best is yet to come,” Bar continued. “The Honduran company, Gurkha, provided the names of the people who purchased the Black Dragon cigars like the one found partially smoked in Richard Mox’s house. Of the five boxes, two were purchased by one man: billionaire Simon Anat. Perhaps not un-coincidentally, Mr. Anat lives in—”

  “—Dietikon, Switzerland.” Tolen finished her thought. “He is a Hungarian shipping magnate; the fourth richest man in the world with net worth hovering around $29 billion.”

  Bar continued the thought. “Exactly. Simon Anat used to be quite a public figure but has become a recluse within the last two years. He’s stopped conducting interviews, attending benefits, or participating in any philanthropic activities. No one’s gotten a photograph of him in over a year and a half.”

  There was no hesitation from Tolen. “Bar, please contact Reba Zee and have her prepare for takeoff. I’ll be leaving for Zurich, Switzerland immediately. Let her know I’ll be at the tarmac in 20 minutes.”

  “I’ve already taken the liberty of contacting Reba Zee. The plane is fueled and waiting to go.”

  Tolen hung up his phone. He sat on the edge of the bed still in the dark. The room was quiet except for the droning of the air conditioner. Light was shining through the bottom of his door from the hallway. A momentary shadow passed, and then the light returned.

  ****

  As tired as Jade was, her sore back was interfering with her sleep. The muscle relaxer Tolen had prescribed had taken the edge off the pain, but she still felt a dull throb. She faded in and out of sleep, nudged awake every so often by a stab of discomfort. After a short while, she gave up trying. Instead, she focused on the clue from the last jar. She had already read it so many times she had it memorized:

  Of the Father, Son, and Holy Ghost, only the Son is charged with holding the contents on high where the ancients knew no god but themselves in the desert. Travel from the north. As David faced the lion, you will face the lion incarnate. Aim at the one on the left and dig at his right foot. There you will gain entry to the Holiest of Highs. The third jar marks the end of your journey, but all three will be needed.

  Jade rolled over on her back, feeling a sting. She stared up at the dark ceiling.

  The three had discussed the text for some time. Their mutual conclusion was the cache of Jesus’ objects would be found somewhere in Israel. The reference to “desert” made the task of deciphering the clue even more daunting. Sixty percent of the country was desert: the Negev Desert alone covered 55 percent of the land mass of Israel, or roughly 4,700 square miles, and the Negev’s landscape is not inviting, consisting of a mix of rocky mountains, plateaus, and deep craters punctuated with dry riverbeds.

  The reference to “lion” was intriguing. She recalled Dr. Cherrigan once discussing the use of the term in the Bible where lions are mentioned repeatedly; the most notable being the story of Daniel in the lions’ den. Lions were also frequently used as an allegory to represent strength, celestial good, and celestial truth.

  Also intriguing was the clue which mentioned all three jars would be needed. The jar they found in Costa Rica containing myrrh was secure aboard the plane in the cabin locker. She wondered if there might have been something else about the jar they missed. What was it Tolen had said: the second jar felt heavier than the first, as if made thicker.

  Jade heard a tink that startled her. It had come from the door. She turned her head to the side. There was another faint tink sound. She was just about to call out and ask who was there when she heard a click, and the door popped open enough to allow a sliver of light to come in from the hallway.

  Jade closed her eyes and pretended to be asleep, but her pulse was suddenly racing. She considered screaming. If the intruder had a gun, she would be dead before Tolen or Diaz arrived. Instead, she lay motionless, her heartbeat screaming in her ears. She dared a look through slitted eyes. The door pushed open, sending the hallway light into the room, backlighting the figure. The dark form moved silently inside the room, closing the door behind. The only light now was a thin line of white seeping in from under the door. The figure paused, as if appraising the dark room.

  Jade’s mind spun in dizzying circles. She tried to think how she could defend herself like this: lying down without a weapon. She was completely vulnerable. She tried to remain calm and think of options, but nothing came to her. Restraining her breathing caused her nearly to hyperventilate.

  The shadowy figure moved to the table and seemed to be feeling around in the dark.

  Jade involuntarily held her breath. Once she realized what she was doing, it was too late. There was no way to exhale without being heard in the still room. She held her breath knowing each second she retained air, she would eventually be forced to release it with an even greater push and, no doubt, be heard. Her lungs began to ache.

  At the table, the figure had lifted something and was examining it in the dim light.

  The burning in her lungs grew intense.

  The figure placed the object down and slowly moved to the bureau. In the scant light, Jade stole a peek and thought she saw the person holding a handgun. Her lungs now screamed for air.

  Just when Jade had exhausted her air and knew she could hold it no longer, the door of her room burst open. A figure rushed inside, catching the intruder’s face in the beam of a flashlight. The two ran at each other and collided, tumbling into the wall. There was a high-pitched scream and a torrent of knocks. Jade expelled the air and scurried to her feet, nearly knocking down the nightstand lamp as she frantically sought the switch to turn it on.

  In an instant, the room was lit. The commotion against the wall had died down. Samuel Tolen held onto a woman from behind as he raised her to her feet. The woman’s long, black disheveled hair fell across her angular face as she struggled to break free. She was of average height and build, with pale-colored skin, clad in dark coveralls like a car mechanic. Tolen’s grasp was firm and after a moment, the woman gave up trying to escape.

  Tolen moved her to the table, kicked a chair out, and plopped the intruder down in the seat. “Sit,” he ordered firmly, his tone acrimonious. He took a position between her and the doorway, after he locked it from the inside.

  The woman spoke in
a foreign language. Jade was sure it was French.

  “Laissez aller de moi. J’ai rien fait de mal.”

  Surprisingly to Jade, Tolen responded in the same language. “Pour commencer, comment a propos d’effraction?”

  “Si vous ne me laissez pas aller, je vais crier.”

  Tolen responded, “Je n’avez pas temps pour ces jeux. Parler anglais maintenant, ou je vais couper vos doigts un à un moment.”

  “Alright, alright,” she suddenly said in English with a strong accent.

  Jade was glad to hear the conversation switch to a language she understood.

  “Who are you?” Tolen asked.

  She looked at him with a smirk. “You can’t figure that out?”

  Jade came off the bed. She was wearing a long tee shirt which fell to mid-thigh. Her fear was gone. She approached the woman with a sudden rise of anger. “Who the bloody hell are you, and why are you in my room?”

  The French woman gave Jade a surly look but said nothing.

  Tolen reached into his pocket and pulled out a compact knife. He flicked a switch and the blade sprang out, stout and serrated. Without hesitation, he stepped forward and clamped the woman’s left hand down on the table. He quickly brought the knife down, and Jade involuntarily cringed.

  “No, no wait!” the woman shouted. “I’m after what you’re after…the proof.”

  Tolen paused. He lifted the blade to her eye level. “Who are you?”

  She hesitated. Then, with a defeated grimace she said, “My name is Claudia Denoit.”

  “Are you with the ‘True Sons of Light’?” Tolen asked.

  “Quoi? I have no idea what you’re talking about,” she replied, never breaking eye contact with Tolen.

  Tolen released her hand and moved back between Denoit and the door. “Is anyone else with you?”

  She shook her head, no.

  “What proof are you after?” Jade said, glaring down at the woman.

  “The same proof you are!” the woman snarled.

  “To destroy it?” Tolen asked. His voice was calm but firm.

  The French woman gave a throaty laugh. “No, Monsieur.” Her eyes settled on Tolen. Her expression went rigid. “To the contrary.”

  Tolen pressed within inches of her face. Jade took an awkward step back to allow him room. “Simon Anat sent you.”

  There was a pregnant pause. “I do not know of this man.” She shifted, looked over Tolen’s shoulder at nothing, then brought her gaze down to the table.

  Simon Anat? Jade thought.

  Tolen rose smartly with a certain primal urgency Jade had not previously witnessed. She half expected him to begin cutting off Denoit’s fingers. Instead, he pulled a pistol from inside his jacket and handed it to Jade, flipping the safety off.

  “Shoot her in the kneecap if she moves a muscle. I’ll be right back.” Jade was speechless. There was no point in arguing. Tolen had already turned and walked out the door, closing it behind him.

  Jade looked at the woman. She pivoted around to the door, keeping the gun leveled at Denoit the entire time.

  ****

  Tolen stepped out into the hallway and headed quickly to his room. He had cord and a gag in his bag he could use to bind Denoit. Finally, they had someone who could give them answers. Once he had said the name of Simon Anat, her body language and eye movement indicated he had struck a chord.

  His cell phone rang just as he stepped into his room. It was Director Vakind.

  “Tolen, what’s your status?”

  As he dug through his bag to fish out the cord, Tolen explained that they had just apprehended a suspect. He promised to call Vakind shortly with more information. He hung up just as he pulled out a gag, when suddenly there was a tremendous slam and trampling from the hallway.

  Tolen dashed out into the hallway and saw Jade’s door open. Jade staggered out, holding her chest, trying to catch her breath. Tolen looked into the room. It was empty.

  Claudia Denoit was gone.

  “She rushed me…slammed me into the door,” Jade wheezed. “The gun’s on the floor in the room.”

  Diaz stepped from his room, gun drawn. He was barely dressed, and looked half asleep. “What’s going on?” He rubbed his eyes, slinging a shirt on.

  “Diaz, take the stairs at that end,” Tolen pointed down the hallway toward one end. “Look for a Caucasian Frenchwoman with long dark hair and average body type wearing black coveralls. I’ll take the other stairs.”

  Diaz wordlessly turned and the two men raced in opposite directions. Tolen sailed down the stairs, taking two steps at a time. When he reached the lobby four floors down, it was empty. The front desk was unmanned. Moments later, Diaz joined him. He simply shook his head.

  CHAPTER 37

  September 13. Thursday – 4:14 a.m. Isle of Patmos, Greece

  Tolen reconvened with Diaz and Jade back in Jade’s room where she handed Tolen his weapon. “I’m...I’m sorry,” she said. “She rushed at me so fast, I didn’t know what to do.”

  Tolen was angry with Jade, but he checked his emotions. He had only planned to be out of the room a few seconds. The phone call from Vakind had delayed him. The comment for Jade to shoot Denoit in the kneecap was to scare Denoit into staying put. It had failed.

  Tolen told Diaz about the intruder, who she was, and how she had escaped. Then he looked at his watch. “We have just over 29 hours before the Feast of the Cross begins.” And 17 hours before President Fane tips the fundamentalist group off by elevating the terrorist alert, he thought to himself. “I’m flying out, but will be back in the afternoon. I need you two to stay here. Diaz, you can expect another attack. I’m certain of it.” He said it with conviction, even though there was really no certainty to it. “Try to take them alive.”

  Diaz’s face grew intense, and he started to object. Tolen walked away before the inspector could spew the first word. Tolen went to his room, grabbed his bag, and returned to the hallway. Diaz was waiting for him there.

  “And exactly where are you going?” Diaz pressed.

  “I’m following a thin lead. With time running out, we need to leverage our manpower. You and Jade stay here, effectively to remain as targets for the ‘True Sons of Light.’ I’m going to Germany. The CIA received intel that Boyd Ramsey may be there.” It was another lie. “I will be in touch.”

  “You want us to stay here with a bullseye on our chests?” Diaz asked.

  “Guard Jade,” Tolen ordered.

  Tolen left with Diaz still objecting and threatening to call his superiors.

  Fifteen minutes later, Tolen arrived on the tarmac several miles inland from the hotel. The early morning air was comfortable with only a slight breeze. The sweet smell of gardenia and bougainvillea perfumed the air. The pre-dawn skies were clear.

  Tolen was content to be working on his own at the moment. While Diaz was quite capable, he was often narrow-minded and resistant, and he slowed Tolen down. Jade had also become a distraction. He found himself drawn to her inquisitive and intelligent nature, her eloquent mannerisms, her undeniable femininity. Yet, he also sensed she was hiding something from the first moment he met her.

  He wondered if it was simply misfortune that Claudia Denoit had gotten away under Jade’s watch.

  Bar had sent the accident report of Jade’s car crash in New Jersey to Tolen’s phone. He reviewed it on the cab ride to the airstrip. The information bothered him. Jade’s claim of being run off the road after attending Phillip Cherrigan’s funeral had not been substantiated by any witnesses, although the wreck had occurred on a barren two-lane highway. Jade had reported that a dark van with tinted windows had come alongside and forced her off the road into a ravine. The damage to her rental car confirmed a sideswipe. Scratches and dings to the front bumper and grill indic
ated damage as a result of plowing down a hill through underbrush and small trees. Yet, remarkably, Jade had come out of it unscathed except for some minor bruises.

  The reality was Tolen had kept his destination to Switzerland a secret not from Diaz, but from Jade. His rising mistrust of her was also the reason he had planted a small tracking device in her PC bag before leaving the hotel.

  Tolen sent a text message to Bar requesting Simon Anat’s address. She confirmed receipt and responded minutes later with the information. He also requested she find out if Claudia Denoit had been in Switzerland on the same day as the others last year.

  The moment Tolen stepped aboard the airplane, Reba Zee addressed him in her usual bubbly tone. “Looks like we’ve got beautiful flying weather today.”

  The flight took three hours. Tolen slept the entire way. It might be his last opportunity to rest for some time. Shortly before landing, he changed into a charcoal gray suit and maroon silk tie.

  They arrived at Zurich International Airport, and Tolen took a taxicab to the address Bar had furnished. Dietikon, Switzerland was less than ten miles southwest from the airport. The estate of Simon Anat was on the edge of the Honeret Forest.

  Tolen considered what he knew about the billionaire. Fifty-six-year-old Anat, a lifelong bachelor, had always been a public figure until a year and a half ago, when he literally dropped out of sight. As far as anyone knew, he had remained at his residence all that time; not unlike Howard Hughes toward the end of his life when he had become a recluse and severely altered his appearance. Thus, Tolen thought, it was possible Simon Anat was undergoing the same type of transformation. The last time Tolen had seen Anat in TIME magazine, he appeared as the consummate professional: well groomed and immaculately tailored. If Hughes-like eccentricity had set in, there was no telling what the man might look like these days.