by Verner Jones
The morning thundered into the room with curtains drawn and harsh sunlight hitting Stipe and Toni full frontal. A crisp voice was demanding body movement and sheets were pulled off of partially clad torsos, heads throbbing from the brisk arousal and the aftermath of Tasman's Bar. A voice that Stipe was convinced was Marta said,
“Come on you two get up, its mid morning. I want you both showered and downstairs in fifteen minutes. I’ll go and order breakfasts for us all so don’t keep me waiting all day. We have things to do, remember?” Marta sat at the side of Stipe, who with two narrow slits for eyes, was still trying to stop the ceiling light from swaying. She leaned forward and kissed him softly, running her hand along his naked back.
“Good morning, Stipe.”
“Yea right. Fifteen minutes. OK.”
“See you downstairs.” Marta departed with ripples of her presence washing around in both of their heads. It was half an hour before they joined her, looking almost human again.
“Don’t you know the meaning of a lay-in?”
“You shouldn’t waste the mornings they’re the best part of the day. And I’m starving and the breakfast they serve here is excellent. Not to be missed.” They ate and were suitably revived. After breakfast they returned to their rooms and collected bags and jackets. Marta joined the boys in their room and suggested that they leave the money in the hotel safe to avoid any chance-mishap befalling their newfound wealth. All agreed. Marta took the gun out of the bag. She looked at Stipe for his reaction.
“Oh bye the way, Stipe,” said Marta, pointing the gun into the centre of her chest. He watched with alarm at her actions. Marta pulled the trigger twice to the sound of two empty clicks. “I emptied it before I took it to meet with Henrick. I know you don’t like guns and I promised myself that I wouldn’t fire one again. But it doesn’t hurt to have it around as an inducement to sensible judgment does it?”
“No,” said Stipe relieved. “Put it in the bag. We can take it with us.” Then he silently cursed himself for thinking yesterday that Marta was a gun toting Ma Baker who was on the verge of popping off old Henrick as much as look at him. Their bags sorted, they went to reception and deposited the duffle bag of money into the safe, and left for their rendezvous with Henrick and their last payment.
Henrick left the apartment on the Grachtengordel a concoction of conflicting emotions whirling around in his mind. His beautiful Celine was asleep; Botticellis’ venus under a patina of satin. He had sat and admired her beauty, her firm contours partially revealed, partially concealed by the sheet. And her breath, mellifluous, supporting life just below the level of consciousness. He would do anything to keep his Celine. She woke sensitive to his presence and smiled contentedly reaching out her arms to him, a silent invitation to return. He had and they had made love for the third time since midnight. Now he had to face his dilemma.
Celine had complained over dinner the previous evening that the taxi drivers were always rude and suggestive to her and she didn’t like using them anymore and she wasn’t inclined to be using public transport. The trams were crowded and the men would stand too close to her or be always staring. And as Celine had put it ‘How was she going to travel around the city? You don’t want me to be an object for everyone’s desire and abuse do you Henrick?’ Henrick had to agree. She was his woman and he applauded that she didn’t want to share any part of herself with anybody else, voluntary or involuntary.
“ We will have to get you a car,” he said, relishing the instant joy that Celine’s expression conveyed to him. Her happiness was his fulfilment.
“Oh Henrick, you are too loving to your Celine.” Her eyes conveyed the intimacy that was later to unfold. “I know a friend of a friend who owns the BMW showroom. I will call him tomorrow. He will give us a generous discount and I will save you a lot of money my darling.”
“You want a BMW?” His voice held concern.
“You wouldn’t want me to drive around in some old Fiat would you, Henrick?” Her look melted him.
“Of course not. A BMW it is.”
Now, as he walked to the taxi rank and his appointment with the ‘three diamond dealers’, not only did he have to find the money to keep his Celine happy, but also the deadline for the banks remittance was steadily approaching and he had no solution to clear the debt, except one. And that depended on the outcome of his meeting.
Henrick reached his office in good time and ordered his assistant that he was not to be disturbed and to notify him when the three young people who were here with him yesterday arrived. He locked the door and selected a file from his personnel filing cabinet and took it to his desk. He read through the contents making notes and writing telephone numbers. Next he studied a photograph of a large Scottish castle. His appointments arrived five minutes early by his watch; punctuality, he liked that. He unlocked the door at the sound of the first rap. It was with a cordial voice that he welcomed Stipe, Marta and Toni into his domain. They entered, surprised and alarmed.
“Come in, come in. You’re early but never mind.” He beckoned them into the room and locked the door behind him. Marta scrutinised the room looking for danger hiding, found none, and checked the others for a response. All looked vague with no answer to Henrick's friendliness.
“Come take a seat. I have your money for you. Before I hand it over can I get you all a drink? A little early maybe, but you only live once, so why not.” Stipe and Toni agreed. Marta declined. He handed them a tumbler with ice and a generous measure of whiskey. “Cheers.” They tentatively raised their glasses and sipped.
“What’s going on? I mean we are not exactly on social drinking terms Mr Henrick so why the friendliness?” quizzed Marta.
“Forever the assertive one aren’t you. A good quality. I like that in a person and an essential ingredient if our plan is to succeed.” Curiosity had galvanized their attention.
“What plan is that?” asked Stipe. Henrick reached into a draw and took out a wad of notes. “First, here is the £5,000 I owe you. We in a fashion concluded a deal and I am a honourable man and pay my debts.” He tossed the money over the desk in front of the three of them. “It is not a lot of money to divide between the three of you. How would you like me to turn that £5000 into £1,000,000? I’m sure you could do a lot more with that than the £40,000 you already have. My plan though is not without an element of risk, on both sides, but I believe you have, pardon the expression, the balls and the tenacity to see it through.” He glanced at Marta as he spoke. “You proved that to me yesterday.” Marta looked on with scepticism. Toni formulated words, but Stipe voiced his first. “What is your plan then,” repeated Stipe, intrigued.
“To steal the ‘Mostel Star’ from its owners in England.” Marta pivoted and slapped her hand to her forehead in disbelief. Stipe and Toni simultaneously gulped at their whiskey.
“Who do you think we are?” blurted out Marta. “Some expert jewel thieves?”
“Well in your own words you enlightened me to the methods used to acquire your first haul of diamonds. Not exactly squeamish are you.”
“This is different.”
“You can’t be serious. We’ve never done anything like this before,” Stipe said.
“How are we supposed to pull it off and what is the Mostel Star?” asked Toni.
“Your last question first, Toni. Have you ever heard of the rock band ‘Creatures of the West?’
“Of course we have. Who hasn’t? They have just finished a world tour so I heard. What about them?” said Stipe.
“Well their lead singer went on a spending spree last year, a castle for him in Scotland and a specially commissioned diamond and ruby necklace for his wife, Stella, which I had a hand in designing with a colleague across town. He being known as ‘Mo’ and his wife, Stella, it was his idea to call the gems the ‘Mostel Star’; the last word being what I presume he thinks of his wife. The point is we can’t steal the castle, but I believe we can lift the gems. Oh, and by the way, they are insured for £5,000,000,
of which when I dispose of them, should fetch us £2,000,000, half each.” Stipe sat there amazed. He could see where his son, Ton got his double dealing from. The whole family was crooked.
“You still haven’t answered the most important question. How are we supposed to pull this stunt off?” repeated Toni. Marta watched the two of them baited on Henrick’s words. I don’t believe it. Those two are actually contemplating doing this job, thought Marta.
“Well Mo being a man who likes his creature comforts had a vast amount of alterations carried out at the castle: a heating system, cinema room, and recording studio among other things. With all the works completed he his having a grand sort of castle warming and my wife and I have an invite. On such an opportunity to flaunt his wealth it will be a virtual guarantee that Stella will be wearing the Mostel Star. During the work on the Star, my colleague talked about security for the gems. Mo said that there was a safe in the master bedroom and that he would be beefing it up with some infra red stuff and filling the moat with water. I think he was joking about the moat, but that would not matter to you because I can get you in with my invitation. He has arranged a room for as many guests that want to stay, so you will in the 24 hours that we are in the castle, have to steal the jewels undetected and leave.”
“Bit of a tall order Henrick. I don’t think we can do it, though I like the sound of £1,000,000, cracking a safe, dodging alarms, it’s beyond us,” said Toni.
“Absolutely, a first class ticket to an English prison and deportation,” agreed Marta. Stipe remained quiet.
“Can I have a moment alone Henrick with my two friends?”
“I’ll go and walk round the store for five minutes. Will that do?”
“Fine.” Henrick left them alone.
“What’s the idea of talking to us alone as if it’s an option for us to choose from. It’s madness to think to attempt such a scam.”
“Listen, Marta and you, Toni. Henrick is right. The money we have won’t last forever, whereas £330,000 will set us up for life. I have an idea that might work. It will need all three of us if it is to succeed.” Stipe briefly set out his idea for the heist.
“You clever bastard. You know that could work,” enthused Toni. Marta listened. Stipe’s idea did sound plausible, but she had doubts.
“Marta, it won’t work if all three of us aren’t united. Think of our future and what that money can do for us.” Marta looked questioningly at Stipe.
“Do you mean our future as in together?” Stipe clasped her hand.
“If you’d like to share it with me I do.” Marta held his hand tighter.
“I’ll do it for us then, and if all else fails we will have had a trip to Scotland and partied with The Creatures from the West. Call Henrick back in and tell him we will give it a go.”
14
It was a comfortable journey on the Paris Nord express train with hot food and a chance to relax and explore the possibilities of Popovic’s location. Zoran wondered about his other two companions. One of them had to be a leading light. Popovic wouldn’t have come this far on his own merits. There was a decision maker guiding him and Zoran wondered how dangerous that person would be when he eventually caught up with them. Zoran rotated his shoulder. It was stiff and without full sensitivity. He had missed his physiotherapy and was paying the price. The journey in the truckers cab hadn’t helped. It was cramped and he had to share the space with the driver’s dog that had been steadfast in refusing to give up what it considered his territory and growled repeatedly until his owner had rapped its jaw with his knuckles and the mutt ceased its protests. A stand off had ensued all the way to Paris.
Zoran checked his watch. Ten more minutes and he would be in the Amsterdam Central station. He was feeling lucky.
The invitation to Mo’s gathering was only three days away. Arrangements were made to meet at Henrick’s apartment on the Grachtengordel the following day, where they could review Stipe’s plan and meet Celine who was accompanying Henrick as his wife. Henrick preferring Celine to be absent from the event, faced the impossible task of telling her the sorry news that she would not be able to come, and he knew she had set her heart on meeting all those celebrities. He couldn’t do it and instead swore secrecy from all three not to talk to Celine about their activities. A complication all agreed they could do without, but nevertheless, they agreed to. Henrick had called Mo’s personal secretary to ask if it was possible for his son and daughter to be included on the guest list, pleading that both were away at universities and happened to be home visiting at the time of the ‘house warming’ and they, being huge fans of Creatures from the West, were pressuring him to ask for two inclusions. A call came back two hours later to say that accommodation would be made for them within the castle and that Mo and the band would meet them personally. Henrick winced at the news. The preference for anonymity of his two offspring was being compromised. Marta and Toni would have to take evading action when the time came to meet the band. Henrick for a moment had doubts about the validity of his family circle. Marta certainly didn’t bear any resemblance to him and was of a similar age to his ‘wife’, Celine. It was a bizarre concoction, but Henrick decided rock bands and their culture were used to the bizarre as part of their norm’ and any doubts he had faded.
They discussed details with Henrick of the trip to Cullen Castle, a twelve bedroomed, fortified castle dating back to the mid 16th century of which the MacKinnocks had lived in since its original construction (apart from a short period when it was overrun by the MacIntosh clan) and up until the arrival of Mo and his wife Stella. Apart from all the obstacles that needed to be overcome, Toni and Stipe had no passports. Henrick said he had an idea to resolve that matter and instructed them to have their photos taken and to give him the pictures. With the hands of a lapidaries Henrick had removed the photographs from the passports of his two sons and replaced them with Stipe’s and Toni’s and with an articulate hand had continued the pattern of the official stamp over the photograph. In his experience the airport officials only gave passive attention at passport control seeing only what they needed to see, and his artwork was good. With luck they would cross into the UK unchecked. With the overall plan understood by everyone they concluded their conversation, each person knowing what was expected of them.
At that moment the door opened and Celine breezed into the room all Gucci and Louis Vuitton. She slipped off a fitted leather jacket draping it over the back of a chair and approached Henrick with conversation that felt as if it was carried forward from the previous meeting, unbroken by time. She kissed Henrick then looked expectantly at her guests. Stipe and Toni looked back with frozen admiration. Marta kicked Stipe’s ankle and curtly reminded him that it was rude to stare, and then walked to Celine, a hand outstretched, and introduced herself. Henrick took over from there and after the preliminaries were concluded, informed Celine that as a matter of business his friends would be joining them on their trip to Cullen Castle. Celine never batted an eyelid and accepted Henrick’s statement without question.
They relaxed into an easy conversation getting to know each other, as a family should. After talking to Celine for only five minutes, it became clear to Marta why Henrick was involving himself in the Cullen Castle affair. She had suspected his business was in trouble and after discussions with Stipe and Toni they had agreed that must be the case, otherwise, why instigate such a plan if you weren’t desperate for the money. But to keep a mistress of Celine's calibre demanded more than a gold card and Marta guessed to Henrick she was as irreplaceable as yesterday’s hours and maybe his income was ticking slowly away.
Stipe had ventured into the city centre to attain the items he needed for the trip. Henrick through his contacts had managed to secure the more difficult products on Stipe’s list. The invitation to Mo’s guests, who had accommodation in the castle, was from the Friday to the Sunday, with Mo having arranged for a clay pigeon shoot in his grounds. The incumbent gillie was instructed to take interested parties on a salmon fi
shing expedition along the stretch of river that Mo had acquired rights to with the castle purchase. There was horse riding through the glens for anyone else not catered for, with the main event launching at around 8.30 pm to the sound of a piper playing a march on the main turret. A sound system had been installed that the bands sound technicians would have been proud of. Plenty of activities and plenty of time to lose one’s self and explore the castle. It was decided that Stipe and Marta would fly out to Aberdeen a day earlier, book into a hotel, hire a car and facilitate the remaining items needed for the successful conclusion of their plan. An arrangement was made to call Henrick and Toni when they reached their hotel. Stipe and Marta caught the Wednesday evening, 21.50 Lufthansa flight to Aberdeen. Toni, Henrick and Celine would meet up with them on the Friday morning, and without Stipe, drive to Cullen Castle.
Zoran left the Amsterdam Central station mentally astute, but physically strained. The recovery from his injuries was far from complete, only the desires to track down Popovic made him override his discomforts. Coming to terms with only having one useful arm took more than a few weeks of mental adjustment. He was frustrated constantly by his disability, which only intensified his need for revenge.
Standing on the pavement of the Damrak, Zoran tried to put himself in the shoes of Popovic and his collaborators. What would be their next move? They would need to find somewhere to stay, a guesthouse or hotel. There were hundreds of hotels in Amsterdam, but Zoran was convinced they would only be within a radius of a half a mile maximum from the station. Still a considerable task to check all the hostelries, but not impossible. Zoran bought a street guide from a street vendor and worked out a route that would zigzag him across the city, pivoting from the train station. He headed off in the direction of the Victoria hotel and upon reaching it, paused at the entrance.
