Tom groaned on the floor.
Max continued. “You can’t forgive that Haimon. I’m a dead man now. When I saw Tom that night in Kirchner’s house, I realized he was mine. I thought you saw it, too. From that point on, I knew it was a matter of time before you got rid of me.”
Haimon, rigid with indecision, faced Max. A sense of urgency muddled his thoughts as the cell phone rang repeatedly and Max made no indication he was going to answer it. He was going to lose them the money. Haimon switched tactics.
“You’ve got to take the call, Max. It’s our chance to finally get ahead. I can look past it all. We’re brothers. We’ve got to quit running,” he tried to sound sincere.
Max laughed. “Sure, Haimon. You’re gonna share with me after what you know now. I was loyal, Haimon, to you. You were my brother and I felt guilt, there was nothing I wouldn’t do back then to keep everything right between us. You were my family, my blood. I only lusted for her, but I loved you. I buried her and went after the boy. I saw him crawl into a train car that day but I couldn’t kill him. I let him escape. I wasn’t sure if he was mine, but I couldn’t kill him on the chance he was. Blood matters.”
Nothing Max said, but the word “loyal” meant anything to Haimon. Love was something other people supposedly felt, that he used against them to get what he wanted. Family were people you manipulated and forced to do your dirty work. With only a brain to decode the world, and not a heart to let him feel empathy, Haimon was a lame, but deadly animal.
All that mattered to him was finishing what he had started. Max didn’t have any loyalty. He’d obviously committed the worst kind of betrayal and, for that, he needed to die. Tom needed to die, that old, worthless woman needed to die and he, Haimon, needed to get his hands on that manuscript. The secretary he needed. She could live, for now.
The phone quit ringing. Sheer madness took hold of Haimon. He didn’t stand a chance against Max, not with a gun and brute strength on his brother’s side. Instead, he would have to outwit him.
Max’s shadow finally moved into the light. With the gun in his hand, but hanging at his side loosely, he kept to his side of the room. No one else spoke. The only sounds came from the crackling fire in the stove and the chirp of insects enjoying their own struggle for existence in the world outside.
“Don’t you trust me, Max?” Haimon asked.
The much larger man shook his head.
“No.”
Haimon stayed put. The cell phone began to ring again.
“We need to take that,” Haimon demanded.
The phone buzzed and rang while both men watched the other.
“I’m not going to move,” Haimon promised. “You’ve got the gun! Answer the damn phone! I’ll leave the kid alone, but we need that money. We can go our separate ways. I’ll never come near you, Max. Hell, I’m too afraid of you to mess with you.”
Max took the bait, and reached inside his front pocket for the phone which tumbled to the floor. For a split, second his eyes were off Haimon, and as he bent down to pick up the phone, Haimon rushed on the opportunity. With all the force he could muster, he ran forward and swung his leg upwards, catching Max’s head with his foot. The bigger man lifted and rolled to his side, hitting the floor and dropping the gun, making it easy for Haimon to quickly grab it.
“Don’t move!” he yelled at Max. “I think we’d better take that phone call first.”
But no sooner had he said the words, than the ringing ceased. Haimon grabbed the glossy, black device and looked at the face. There was the number he knew belonged to Helen Ryes. With Max on the floor, Haimon moved to the main door of the room. He needed the advantage of having everyone where he could see them.
“Get up!” he barked at Max. “Get over by your son.”
Max crawled up onto all fours and shuffled towards Tom, who lay motionless on the floor. Haimon dialed the number and waited.
“Hello,” Helen answered tentatively. “Is this Annalena?”
“Do you have the manuscript?” Haimon asked, his voice husky and sounding out of breath.
“I do. We found it. Is Annalena okay?”
Not answering her question, Haimon said, “You’re to bring the manuscript to eleven Leonbergstrasse. I’ll expect you at that address by five o’clock tonight.”
“No, not until I know she’s okay,” Helen said more urgently.
Max moved on the floor. Haimon watched as his brother reached slowly into his breast pocket and begin to pull out something. Seeing a black handle emerge, Haimon’s brain screamed, “GUN!”
Two gunshots exploded from Haimon’s pistol. Max’s body jerked with each bullet’s absorption. Slowly, a stain of blood expanded on the floor around him.
Hmmm, Haimon thought. That’s actually a relief.
On the other end of the phone, it was completely silent.
“Not who you think Mrs. Ryes,” Haimon said coldly into the receiver. “Don’t be late.”
Ending the conversation, he turned to Max’s offspring and lowered the gun again, taking aim at the heart. Why not finish them both? he thought.
“No! Please don’t. Wait!” Annalena begged.
As Haimon looked over at her, he heard the movement and realized his mistake. In less than a second, a searing pain ripped through his body, flinging him sideways. Then another and another. His brain, tried to grab at what was happening, but his vision began to grow dark like someone was slowly pushing down on a light dimmer. The last thing he heard before dying was a woman laughing and then nothing.
Chapter 48
Babenhausen, Germany
Annalena, stunned into a frozen silence, stared in disbelief at the three bodies on the floor. A movement out of the corner of her eye snapped her mind back to who had fired the gun. With ease, Cara crossed the space laughing softly to herself. She took the phone from Haimon’s dead hand and slipped it into her own sweater pocket.
Never taking her gaze from Cara’s relaxed, slow progress about the room, Annalena watched as the young woman came around to stand behind her wheelchair. Speaking nothing, Cara pushed her towards the door.
“Cara?” Annalena asked, finding her own voice raspy and hollow sounding. She plunged on with rapid-fire questions. “You killed him! What are you doing? Where are you taking me? Where did you get the gun?”
For a time, Cara stayed mute, causing Annalena’s angst to grow. The secretary busied herself with looking out of the windows of the house and gathering things like the mugs everyone had drunk from and tossing them into the stove. The smell of the tea leaves burning filled the room with a pungent floral scent of Darjeeling tea. Annalena remembered what the Swiss police had told her about the only clue they had to go on were the tealeaves found in the cups Jorge and his possible killers had drunk from the day he was murdered.
“I always had it,” Cara finally said, her tone nonchalant. “You and I are going to eleven Leonbergstrasse. Damon wanted Mrs. Ryes to bring the manuscript there, and she’s not likely to turn it over to me.”
“Damon?” Annalena asked. “How did you know he went by the name Damon? No one ever addressed them that way. Only Jorge, on the phone with me, used that name. Even Tom called them by Haimon and Max. Did you overhear Jorge and I talking about the men he owed money to?”
Coming up behind Annalena’s chair once again, Cara guided the older woman’s chair through the front door and down the path towards the car.
“When we get to Leonbergstrasse, you can rest, Mrs. Kirchner. Right now, I want you to call Mrs. Ryes and make sure she knows you are safe and that you are delighted to hear that she’s secured the manuscript. Tell her the men are dead and that they killed each other.”
“But Cara, we need to call the police. They need to know what’s happened. Tom is in there and he may still be alive. We need to get him help,” Annalena argued.
The pushing of the chair stopped. Cara’s face, distorted with annoyance, loomed around to the right of Annalena’s face.
“No, we’
re not calling the police. We’re going to collect the Leonardo notebook.” Leaning back away from her, Cara smiled and seemed to consider her boss’s extremely confused expression.
Laughing again with the same chilling tone from earlier, she said, “You'll get the satisfaction of knowing it did exist. Afterwards,” she added condescendingly, “you’ll take a long, long nap. Okay?”
Her final words were spoken as if she were speaking to a simpleton, a child who needed prodding to encourage them to do the expected thing.
The chair rumbled over the flagstone walkway.
“Did you know Damon, I mean Haimon?” Annalena asked in a gentle voice hoping that if she kept her tone meek, Cara might be more willing to answer.
“Of course, Mrs. Kirchner,” Cara said, sounding like a patient preschool teacher explaining to a toddler why they have to wash their hands. “Remember when I first came to work for you to do research on the lost Leonardo papers? You were very, very selfish about letting me see your own private notes. I put the idea in Jorge’s head about using the Leonardo papers as a way to get out of debt with Damon. We were lovers, Damon and I, for a while. Long enough to get him to handle Jorge. It had been my hope that you would give up your knowledge to save your son from financial ruin.”
Shock rippled through Annalena’s exhausted frame. It was Cara who had instigated Jorge’s involvement with the two men. Her mind crippled under the next truth. It was she, herself, who had brought this viper into her own world. Annalena tried to shake her head as if the motion might rid her brain of the toxic thoughts that were holding it captive.
She grabbed onto anything that might reset her earlier belief system. Cara had always been so warm, thoughtful. In every way, the young woman had endeared herself to Anna. Surely, she meant something other than what she was saying. Annalena tried again.
“Did you know what would happen to Jorge once he told Haimon and his brother about the manuscript?” she asked, her words barely audible.
“That was an accident, Mrs. Kirchner. They were only going to hurt him a little to make him talk and tell them what he knew. We thought you might have told Jorge more, since you weren’t willing to tell me anything of importance. It came as a complete surprise to me when you asked the two women to go look for the papers. I’d asked so many times, and each time, you turned me down. That’s when I had to go about it in a different way.”
She paused her story to open the car door.
“I’d no intention of sharing the manuscript with Damon. He was supposed to wait until I told him to come to Tübingen. I thought it would give me more time to convince you to let me look for it. Damon got greedy and I realized when they tried to grab Sabine that he wasn’t going to be held off any longer. Most likely he would want me out of the way, too.”
Annalena broke down. This shattering truth found its mark, exploding her sense of what she thought she knew, what she thought she believed about herself and those she’d considered good. There was no holding back the tears and the horror. Something so evil, so calculating, and she, Annalena, had been the catalyst for inviting these demon into the world she shared with her loved ones. Her own hunger to find some pieces of paper had sealed the doom of innocent people.
Cara got her into the car and walked around to the driver’s side. Annalena saw a strong looking, dark-haired man walking up the gravel road and waving in a friendly manner.
“Hello! I wonder if you might be able to help me. My car broke down about a quarter of a mile back.”
Hearing the British accent, she realized he was an Englishman. Annalena could see Cara standing by the side of the driver’s door, still holding the gun she’d shot Haimon with by her side. The smiling man continued to approach obviously unaware of the gun.
“I say, do you speak English?” he asked pleasantly. “I’m afraid my German is quite poor.”
Cara, saying nothing, pointed the gun at him and yelled, “Stay back!”
She opened the door to get inside, when from behind her, Annalena saw another figure dressed in black and wearing a helmet, rushing towards her. Tackling Cara and pressing her up against the side of the car, the man quickly immobilized the young woman. Annalena screamed, raising her hands to cover her own mouth.
Cara’s body was mashed against the window as five other men wearing black clothing with semi-automatic rifles began to appear from all corners of the farm yard. They slipped noiselessly along the outer walls of the house and garden pointing their rifles into windows. Two of them moved into the house itself.
Annalena dropped her hands and lowered her head. It was over. She knew the men must be the police. Cara was jerked away from the window and was being walked towards an arriving van. Sobs welled-up within Annalena and burst forth from the deepest part of her heart, a place only her soul was accustomed to inhabiting. Her mind went to Tom, and she prayed with everything left in her, he would be found alive.
Chapter 49
Landeskriminalamt (State Police Station)
Tübingen, Germany
“When may we talk with her?” Martha asked Johns. “I saw Sabine arrive about an hour ago. How did they locate her?”
“Commander Pulver said they’d be ready for you to visit with the women in about five minutes. Mrs. Kirchner was finally able to contact her daughter-in-law after the police returned her phone to her. Sabine Kirchner had cut her stay in Denmark short and came back here to Tübingen when none of her calls were going through to her mother-in-law or Tom Keenes.”
Both Martha and Helen nodded. Johns took a sip of hot coffee from his cup and continued.
“They’ve been giving their statements, and they’re aware that Tom Keenes is doing well. He’s at the hospital. I’m going with Piers to grab a bite to eat. We should be ready to leave for the airport in about an hour. Do you want anything?”
Helen and Martha both shook their heads ‘no’. As Johns disappeared down the hall, a female officer called their names. They followed her into a modern office where Annalena and Sabine sat on a couch. The younger woman, being extremely attentive to the older one, had her arm wrapped around Annalena’s spare shoulders. It was clear, Annalena had suffered a great shock from her ordeal.
“Mrs. Ryes and Mrs. Littleword,” Annalena said, her voice breaking from the emotion. “I’m so, so sorry for everything. My ego for finding the lost manuscript led me down this road. I’ve lost my son for it. I used you for it and I’ve put two other innocent people into danger. If I’d known what Cara was, I would never have let her… Oh, it is all my fault! I ask with all my heart for your forgiveness.”
Tears pooled in the corners of her already red-rimmed eyes and the facial muscles around her mouth trembled. Soft, comforting words from Sabine and the offering of a tissue to dry her eyes, momentarily banked the emotion.
Martha went over and knelt down in front Annalena. Taking her hand gently, she gave the fragile lady a warm smile.
“Mrs. Kirchner, I for one, am glad you are safe. You wanted to find the lost Leonardo notebook to bring enlightenment and joy to the world. Your ego, my ego and Helen’s ego were all caught up in this. People make choices. In their heart they know when those choices are risky. There’s a sacrifice for everything we do. Sabine and Tom are safe, we are safe and you will make sure that your son’s death was not in vain. When it is finally revealed for the first time in over a hundred and fifty years, perhaps it can be with a dedication to your son.”
Annalena’s face broke into a tender, grateful smile. Reaching out and putting her arms around Martha, she pulled her close and hugged her.
“You are a compassionate soul, Mrs. Littleword,” she said, her voice choked with emotion. “I will do what you suggest. I will request my son’s name and Tom’s mother, Patricia Keene, be in the dedication when the notebook is presented to both France and Italy. I think Tom will want that, too. He has Sabine and I for family now.”
Martha waited until Annalena released her.
“With what we’ve been through,
I think we can be on a first-name basis, don’t you?” she said with a sweet grin. “Besides, I knew from the get-go that I liked you. You’ve got spunk, Mrs. Kirchner. That will pull you through this pain.”
“It’s Annalena,” she said with a soft smile lighting up her face.
“Mrs. Ryes,” Sabine said, entering the conversation, “when will my mother-in-law be able to see the Leonardo notebook?”
“When can you come to England? I would love for you to stay with us at Healy. Yorkshire is beautiful any time of year, so you pick the date. Together, the four of us plus Lord Wallace will view the notebook again and discuss with our firm’s new legal representative the best way to handle the notebook’s repatriation.”
“We will be there when you are ready for us; that is of course, after the wedding and honeymoon is over,” Annalena agreed.
Saying their good-byes, Martha and Helen excused themselves. Once out in the lobby and waiting for Piers and Johns to arrive with the car to take them to the airport, Martha turned to Helen and said, “Are you finally ready to be Mrs. Cousins?”
With a slight coloring of red rising up into her cheeks, Helen looked down at the engagement ring on her left hand. The diamond twinkled as it caught the light.
“I think I am ready,” she almost whispered. “In fact,” her voice growing with each word, “Let’s go home, Martha.”
Martha’s eyes glittered with excitement.
“It’s going to be wonderful, Helen. Perfect in every way!”
Chapter 50
Healy House
“Ladies,” Tidwell said knocking ever so butler-like on the bedroom door. “It’s time.”
Helen let Martha apply the last touches to her make-up.
“Are you ready? Because you look amazing!” Martha said leaning back, her hand holding the blush brush poised to give another feathery stroke if needed.
“I feel like I’m going to pass out,” Helen said standing up and leaning over to pick up her bouquet. “Let’s do this.”
“Hey, you know to toss that thing in my direction, right?”
Death Drinks Darjeeling (A Helen and Martha Cozy Mystery Book 4) Page 21
