Hargrove looked at the door and then down the alley. He didn’t see anyone. He had one hand on Dickie’s shoulder as he pointed the gun down the alley.
A shadow emerged. The shadow was swinging a nightstick slowly.
“Lady, you’ll want to put that down and come back here and stand with Detective Williams.”
“Okay. Would that be before or after I help you up?”
“What the hell are you talking about?” Hargrove asked waving the gun back and forth between Sandy and Dickie.
On her next swing of the stick she let go of it. Point first. It hit Hargrove in the forehead. His body fell limp and the gun clanged on the alley concrete.
Dickie turned around and looked. “Wondered how you were going to get us out of this.”
“You thought that I could?”
“I counted on it.”
“Why?”
“I checked you out. Word on you is that you’re tough, creative, and you get the job done.”
“Funny,” she laughed. “That’s the word I got on you.”
Williams laughed too. “Shall we revive Mr. Hargrove and see what he knows?”
Ten minutes later, cuffed and awake, Hargrove stared at Sandy tapping her nightstick into her hand.
“Sandy, what is it for the second offense for weapons possession? I think that the five years for the first offense is doubled, isn’t it?”
He let that sink in. “Maybe, Mr. Hargrove, here, had a weapon, but then again maybe he didn’t?”
Hargrove sighed deeply and told them what he knew.
“Cyrus Best called me. He told me that Baywater had learned something, about when the museum robbery would take place and bragged about it to Best. It was a slip up. Best slipped up as well and told your lot. He felt bad about Baywater, and knew you would eventually pick up Alfred. Best wanted to get Baywater out of the country for a while. Not to hide from you, but to hide from whoever was behind the robbery. Alfred must know something about somebody. He was a loose end. Best paid me to get Alfred a new identity.”
“We’ll need his new identification,” Dickie said.
Hargrove hesitated.
Sandy banged a trashcan with her stick. Hargrove jumped. Then he told them.
They called a unit to take Hargrove. They climbed into Sandy’s car.
“We’ll need to go back and visit our favorite pawnbroker,” Sandy said.
“First thing tomorrow,” Dickie replied. “Someone else is after Baywater, as well. This may be a race.”
Chapter 13
Chad sat wearily on the edge of the bed. He removed his shoes and glanced at the clock. It was eleven, ten in London. He’d wait to call Sandy. Dinner with Harry and Sonja was more relaxing than he had expected. The two of them were exchanging stories and Belgrade memories. Their perspectives were so different. Sonja was a resident. Harry was a visitor, living most of the time in England. They discussed history, politics, and religion. Chad was quiet, absorbed in their conversation, totally escaping his own thoughts, the quest, the museum thefts, and his concussion.
He didn’t realize how much effort it took to focus and concentrate. Soaking a washcloth in hot water, he flopped on the bed, closed his eyes, and placed the warm, wet, soft cloth over his forehead and eyes.
Now, he thought, I can reflect on the incident with the white envelope in the Minister’s office.
The museum memory of a white envelope flying from the porcelain vase was vivid and clear. He didn’t imagine it. Chad recalled the word that had come to his mind in the minister’s office. Meissen.
He knew what it was. Porcelain made in Germany. He knew the name from the reports of the stolen items. Chad had read the reports so many times that he nearly had total recall of the details. Good, I don’t have to get up and look at the laptop.
The first robbery in Germany included paintings, small artifacts from Africa, and eight porcelain vases or urns. Four of them were Meissen, two were Chinese from the Ming dynasty, and two were 17th century Japanese.
The second robbery, this one in France, did not list any porcelain. This was a notable difference between the two events. It occurred to Interpol, particularly Adrien Tellier, that perhaps the thefts at this point were following a list of items for pre-determined buyers. His inquiries noted that every porcelain vase housed at the first museum had been stolen. All of them. This led the investigation to focus on suspected buyers that could be linked to their preference for particular type of items. That line of inquiry fizzled out.
Every robbery after that included porcelain objects, and always at least one porcelain vase.
Why? What if the porcelain vase was the key? Of course. Chad mentally listed the facts. The thief in London personally took a porcelain vase. Chad could see it in his mind. Fact – he didn’t put it on the truck with everything else. He held onto it. Fact – it was important enough for the thief to fight Chad for it. Fact – it had something in it. Fact – the initial theft took all the porcelain vases in the museum. That could have pointed a finger at porcelain. Fact – the second theft included none. Was that to throw the trail away from porcelain vases? Fact – every theft after that included some porcelain vases but never every one in the museum.
If the thief was after something in a vase, it was easy enough to check them before stealing them. That was why they could take none in the second robbery. They checked them all. Fact – Chad saw the thief in London search the vases before selecting the one he took. Were there other vases taken in London? Chad remembered that he had not yet reviewed the latest robbery list.
Question – if the thief was after the envelope in the vase, why take the vase? Answer – because he was instructed to do so. Why – because there was someone behind this that did not want anyone, the thief included, seeing the contents.
Fact – Chad remembered Meissen porcelain was on the list of each robbery. There were other porcelains as well, but always Meissen.
Why? What was it about Meissen porcelain?
Chad knew that porcelain was invented in China. It was brought to Europe in the middle ages. It cost a lot to bring it from the Far East across the land routes. Europe tried to duplicate it but they were not successful. Not for centuries.
That was the limit of what he knew. Reluctantly, Chad booted up his computer. Meissen was a city in Germany. The King of Poland ruled the area in 1700. He financed the research to learn how to make porcelain. After many initial failures, the secret was found to be the clay, discovered when some of it was smuggled from China. After they found the local equivalent, the first European porcelain was finally manufactured. That was in 1710. For three hundred years the art evolved and porcelain continues to be made in Meissen. It is expensive because of its rarity and its quality.
Chad was sure that was the link - Meissen porcelain. One more thing he needed to know. Was the vase, held by the thief in London, a Meissen creation? Hopefully the fragments from the lid were kept and could be used to identify it. Chad called Sandy.
June 20
8 Days to Vidovdan
St. Prince Lazar Holy Day
Chapter 14
“We have just eight days to Vidovdan,” Harry said, as he buckled up in the small airplane.
“Vidovdan?” Chad asked. He did the calculation. “That’s June twenty eighth. Isn’t that date St. Prince Lazar’s feast day?”
“It is, but it is also St. Vitus day. You learned yesterday that it was the day of the assassination of the Archduke. Not coincidentally, it was also the date of the signing of the Treaty of Versailles. It is a very revered date. Several other historical events for Serbia were arranged for that date.”
Chad buckled in. “Good information. This is nice,” he commented. “A private flight saves us a little time.”
“You have no idea,” Harry said. “If we flew commercial it would have been a five hour trip. First, we would have to go north through Vienna and then go back south. There are no flights from Serbia to Kosovo. If we drove it would have been
six hours. This route is less than an hour to Macedonia, the closest airport connecting to Belgrade, and then we drive for an hour and a half to Prishtina. It saves a lot of time.”
“That’s all because Serbia does not recognize Kosovo as independent?”
“Yes. Additionally, I am sure this is at the Minister’s private expense. He is transparent about what expenses the government pays, and what he pays from his personal funds. He wants no inference of improper use of funds.”
“Have you been to Prishtina before? Is it Pristina or Prishtina?”
“Prishtina in the Serbian language. I have. I went with some friends. It came as close as I can imagine to a pilgrimage. To see the battlefield of Prince Lazar was a moving experience. And, I’m only half Serbian.”
“Do you think Serbians visit because of a passion for their heritage? Or, is it a thing to do, like where everyone has to do it to say they did it? I don’t mean that question to be demeaning or to trivialize the importance of the site.”
“I understand what you are asking. It is a good question. I heard an expression once regarding racial or bigoted attitudes in people. ‘They were not born that way.’ The point is, attitudes are not inherited. Attitudes are learned. It is one generation influencing the next. In my opinion, there are many, many Serbians who feel like their lot in life is a result of the actions of others, particularly Muslim others. Bosnians, Kosovars, Albanians. The stronger their feelings against others, the stronger their nationalistic feelings. They are the ones that are passionate about the Battle of Kosovo, Prince Lazar, and the strong feeling that Kosovo is part of Serbia, and not independent. On the other hand, particularly in some of the younger generation, I can see that a visit to the battlefield and memorial is, as you said, a thing to do. A road trip. But, remember, there is high unemployment in our youth. At that point in their life, and having heard their parents for years deriding Muslims, it could be the start of stronger feelings.”
Chad was thoughtful. “Harry, you said ‘our’ youth. Not the Serbian youth. Can I ask how strong your feelings are?”
Harry was quiet a while. “I have thought about this often. I analyze what I feel and try to determine why I feel it. I have found a strong identification to my Serbian half. Yet, I feel more English in my identity. Probably, because I grew up mostly in England. I have a very high respect and tolerance for religious diversity. I think that is because I was raised in both the Eastern Orthodox religion and the Church of England. However, I have a very strong feeling regarding one aspect of this conflict.”
Chad asked, “Can I ask what it is? It sounds very personal.”
“Like Sonja, I have a very strong abhorrence of the actions of Serbians in Bosnia and in Kosovo. In Bosnia, ten thousand Muslim men and boys were executed in the genocide. In 1999 nearly a million Kosovars of Albanian descent left Kosovo either by fleeing or they were forced out. That was ninety percent of the Albanians. Ten thousand deaths were reported. I am shamed by this when I think of it.”
Harry stared out the window.
“Harry, thank you for sharing. I can’t imagine what you are feeling. I am sure that you are not alone in those feelings.”
Harry answered, “You are right. Polls show that two thirds of Serbians feel Kosovo is independent. Surveys also show only half of Serbians feel that recognition of Kosovo’s independence would affect their life. However, half of those surveyed felt something had to be done for the Serbians living in North Kosovo. The larger issue for Serbia and its people is EU membership.”
“Why is that?”
“Serbia has close ties to both Europe and Russia. Joining the EU may adversely affect investment from Russia and trade agreements. Complicating things is that access to EU is dependent on recognizing Kosovo.”
Chad unfolded a map of the Balkans.
“Harry, I know the issues are complex and nationalistic and religious feelings are strong, but if I didn’t know that, I would look at this map and wonder if there is simple solution?”
Harry laughed. “I know what you will say, but go ahead.”
“First, Kosovo should be combined with Albania. But, cut out northern Kosovo and make that part of Serbia. Then, Montenegro should be part of Serbia, giving Serbia a seaport. There are two Serbian regions in Bosnia. One of them borders Serbia and Montenegro. Only a city called Brcko separates the two regions. That could be made a part of Serbia, so that it would be contiguous.”
Harry continued to laugh. “I think that’s the thinking that divided up the Middle East after World War I.”
“Too simplistic?” Chad asked.
“Very colonial. Very directive. Very much a ‘we know what is best for you’ attitude. A good concept, except for a couple of factors. One is that Montenegro was a part of Serbia when Yugoslavia was broken up, but they voted for independence in 2006. Eighty-seven percent of the people voted and the majority voted for independence. There are six hundred thousand people in Montenegro; forty-five percent are Montenegrins. Only twenty-eight percent are Serbs. Montenegro wants their independence. The second issue is Brcko. How do you displace forty thousand people from the city? Only twenty percent are Serbs. And, that is a microcosm of the entire region – displacement.”
“Displacement as in Muslims displaced from Kosovo and Serbian regions in Bosnia?”
“Yes. In Bosnia, the official position of the Serbian Republic of Srspka is that Muslims can return and reclaim their homes; however, it is made difficult for them by not running utilities to their homes, shop owners refusing service, and then other less subtle ways to discriminate and bully.”
They sat back and watched the country pass below them. The Kopaonik Mountains in the north gave way to wooded hills then small farms, decorated with alternating fields of greens and golds. Rivers zigzagged across the plains. It was only minutes until the jagged peaks of the Sharr Mountains appeared on the border of Macedonia and then they landed.
Harry commented as they rented a car, “The visas that the Minister secured for us will make the crossing into Kosovo very easy. If we were coming from Serbia, we’d have an intense scrutiny on both sides of the border and sometimes a further check by the NATO peacekeeping forces.”
Chapter 15
Zevic listened with the ear-com to the reports of his watchers. All was clear in the park. He put the ear-com in his pocket and turned on the panic alarm sticking it in his jacket pocket. If the man he was meeting, Max Alton, sprung a trap or set an ambush, Zevic would get a warning. He hadn’t lived this long by walking blindly into a meeting.
Keeping his head down and away from the CCTV cameras, Zevic walked on the asphalt path keeping a wary eye on the morning joggers. Just past the dock that extended into the winding lake, he counted a hundred steps and turned left off the path into a small group of trees.
Max leaned nonchalantly, but vigilant, watching Zevic approach. They didn’t exchange pleasantries.
“What did you find?” Zevic asked.
“A small lead. The man that interrupted things at the museum was never taken to a hospital. He could have been taken to a private clinic or doctor. If he were, then I’d suspect he was part of some clandestine operation. He would have to be an undercover detective, or with MI5 or MI6.”
“I doubt it,” Zevic said. “He wouldn’t have a reason to get involved. Not one I can think of. Besides, if he was an agent, he was a lousy fighter.”
“My thoughts as well. From what you said of his actions, he was more intent on saving the art than apprehending your thief.”
Zevic agreed aloud, but there was another explanation. Luc could have lied about the details.
“What is your lead?” Zevic asked.
“I checked on the ambulance services who respond to fire alarms in that part of the city. I learned there were three that responded that night. I met with all three teams.”
“What was your cover?” Zevic asked, worried.
“I said I was representing the private owners of the Sir Robert Onsley Museum
and Gallery. We felt that their quick response was a great service to our patrons. I gave them each four hundred pounds and asked them not to let others know. Which, by the way, is another four thousand pounds in expenses.”
“For six drivers?”
“Ten. I had to pay to learn the teams on call that night.”
“No matter.”
“I didn’t think so. I then asked if any of them had given any medical attention to an unnamed patron that was caught up in events. I wanted to thank him as well. I didn’t learn a name, but I have a description. Tall redheaded, extremely fit, American.” The man stopped there.
“That’s it?” Zevic already knew that from Luc Millet’s report. Except for the American part.
“He seemed to be a close friend of a female redhead. Good looking.”
“Extremely fit as well?” Zevic asked sarcastically.
“As a matter of fact…”
“That doesn’t help much,” Zevic said. “Are they brother and sister?”
“Wouldn’t be natural the way she acted, according to my attendant. Besides, she’s a detective with the Yard.”
“That does help. Was the American hurt?”
“Yes. He had a concussion and loss of memory.”
For the first time in four days, Zevic felt a brief hope that this could be contained.
The finder asked, “Do you want me to nose around the Metropolitan Police to see if I can find out who the redheaded Major Crimes detective might be?”
“No. I know her name,” Zevic said. He didn’t share where he got the name.
Max was impressed. Zevic handed the finder a scrap of paper with Sandy’s name. “I can follow her then?”
“Yeah. Do that. Set up surveillance and let me know if our redheaded boy shows up. Don’t approach him. I’ll do that. Be careful. Don’t raise her suspicions, or anyone in the police.”
Max was insulted. “I can do that. Anything else?”
“Yes. I have a person for you to find. I have an idea where he is or at least where he is going. I need a name from him.”
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