The Diamond Dust on Dragonfly Wings: A Jeffry Claxton Mystery Novel

by Michael Yudov

  “Yes, you do what you have to do, I am fine.” I could see from the look on her face that she wasn’t lying, at least not on the outside. She gave me her transmitter and I switched it on. Then I put one finger over my lips, to indicate silence. She nodded her head, and I opened the door.

  I slipped out of the sliding door on the left, depositing me right on the sidewalk. I really liked the sliding door on each side. I’d have to consider trading up when I got home.

  As soon as I hit the sidewalk I started walking briskly towards the corner. The binoculars were in a cloth bag with handles. Always carry an empty cloth bag, they always manage to come in handy. At the corner, I crossed on the green, staying on the side of the street I was on. Across the street, I waited like a good citizen for the red light to change, and when it did I crossed to the corner opposite the bank, and kept walking, but I slowed my pace. I started checking the upper floor windows, and found the same thing. It looked like the other side. Drapes over all the windows. I did a quick ‘round about and headed back to the van. When I got there Therese had hit the locks button when I was almost at the door. I could tell because the driver door lock popped up as I passed it. I slipped back into the van and motioned for her to turn off her transmitter, which she did.

  If nothing else, she picked up on new things quickly. A thoroughly intriguing woman. Correction, a thoroughly intriguing young woman.

  In the interim of my little sojourn, the assistant or whomever had returned and continued his fawning.

  “Yes, Ms. Godsen. Herr Schnorrer is just finishing with an international call, and we can go upstairs to his office’s waiting room. He has asked me to apologize on his behalf, and he will be with you as soon as he is done with his call. Please follow me.” There wasn’t much room for manoeuvring, so Godsen went along, but took a stand of sorts.

  “Fine. I will give Herr Schnorrer exactly five minutes. Come, Ms. Westwood.”

  “Excellent, thank you for being so understanding, Ms. Godsen.” I could hear the echo of their footsteps as they walked across the floor. It must have been marble from the sound of it. I was following them with my binoculars, until they took a turn out of my sight. I switched on the transmitter.

  “Ronnie, you are on audio only. I repeat, audio only.” There was a soft ‘cough’. Received.

  “I see that you have followed the fashion of the older banks in your decor.” That was Godsen.

  “Yes, the Brass and Mirror tradition. It helps our clients to feel comfortable, to be in an environment that has not changed its basic theme in a long time. Almost two hundred years.” That was Urs. I wondered what the transmitter reception would be like in the elevator.

  “Being Herr Schnorrer’s Personal Assistant must be a very taxing position. Are you aware of the purpose of our meeting?” That was Godsen.

  “Ah, here we are, after you, ladies.” Well, it seemed that the gear was as good as Westwood had said it was. A few moments of virtually no sound whatsoever, and then Urs piped up again.

  “Here we are, please take a seat and make yourselves comfortable. Would you care for coffee? Or perhaps tea?” They must have been shown down a carpeted hallway, into the reception area for Herr Schnorrer’s clients.

  “I’d care for a meeting with Herr Schnorrer. Period. You have three minutes left.” Godsen was getting heavy, putting on the pressure. Urs, the Assistant Whatever, was getting flustered now.

  “Yes, of course. I’ll see if he is able to see you right away. One moment, please.”

  He had managed to completely ignore Godsen’s question with reference to his foreknowledge of the reason for the meeting, all without skipping a beat in his ‘I’m here to be helpful’ Routine. Until Godsen had in effect, given Herr Schnorrer an ultimatum, by imposing a time limit of three more minutes. Nervy, I had to admit.

  “Ms. Godsen! My apologies. I had no idea who you were, I do hope you will find it in your heart to forgive me for making you wait even one minute more than necessary. Please follow me, Herr Schnorrer will see you immediately, of course.” So he hadn’t known about the meeting, and probably still didn’t, other than the fact his boss must have told him to see them in right away. So he knew it was important, he just didn’t know why.

  There was more rustling of clothes as they moved over carpet towards the door. It only took about ten seconds, and then there was a strong rap of knuckles on wood. Three knocks. There was a buzzing sound, and the door to the inner sanctum was opened, and the girls went in. I had to picture this in my mind as the audio link gave me the play-by-play. I heard the door shut behind them.

  “What’s this? Another foyer? We just came from a foyer!”

  “Oh dear. The red light is showing. I’m so sorry ladies, but the metal detector has indicated…”

  “Let me finish this one for you, you dolt! Do you see this badge?”

  She must have pulled out her ‘International Division: RCMP/Interpol’ badge. There was a moment of dead silence, then Godsen berated the poor Assistant some more, over riding his voice with hers, even as he was trying to apologize for the second time.

  “Open this door. Now! I do not want to discuss it, and I will tolerate no more from you, Msr. Reinvil.” At that he just gave up. He knew when he’d been beaten, at least.

  “Yes, uh, Inspector, right away.” I heard another door open, with the hissing sound of an automatic door.

  “Please shut the door on your way out, Msr. Reinvil. Come, Agent Billings, let’s have out chat with Herr Schnorrer.” Agent Billings?

  There was the sound of a hydraulic door again. Presumably closing this time, with our ‘Msr. Reinvil’ on the other side. She was on a roll, so she went with it. Cool.

  “Ah. You must be Herr Schnorrer.”

  “Yes, I am, and that was my Personal Assistant that you just asked to leave the room, which I might add after all, is my room. My office. Not yours.”

  “Mr. Schnorrer. I would appreciate that this issue be kept on a need-to-know-only basis for the time being. If just a hint of what we’re here for were to leak out, it could become very dangerous for both you and your family. As well as your mistress, Dianne D’Ore. Or, as she was born, Madelaine Fouchet.” Whoa! Atta girl, Ronnie. She’d been in his office for what, less than sixty seconds? And not only had she taken control of his employee, she’d out and put him in her pocket. All that remained was the dancing, the verbal fencing, and the ‘Inspector’, had made it perfectly clear that her blade was sharp.

  “The sooner we can conclude our business together, the sooner we’ll both be happy, so let’s stop wasting time and get down to it. My schedule permits thirty to forty-five minutes, and I would like to use them productively. This meeting desk in the corner will do nicely. Let me get my papers out. Then we can start to coordinate and confirm.” There was a small pause, then Schnorrer found his voice again.

  “Uh, I, uh… yes, of course. Please make yourselves comfortable. Would you like some coffee, or perhaps tea?”

  “No, thank you. Let’s just get down to business. If that’s not a problem for you…?”

  “No! Uh, no, not at all. I’ll get the relevant files out myself. I know where Msr. Reinvil keeps everything, naturally.”

  “Naturally.”

  “I did receive a request for ‘complete co-operation’ in this matter from our Head Office, and I was told that an Inspector from one of the International Interpol offices would be dropping by. I regret that I did not expect a woman Inspector, and I would like to apologize for any misunderstanding.”

  “Understood.” She wasn’t giving an inch. “Agent Billings, are we ready?”

  “Yes ma’am.”

  “Fine. Now, Mr. Schnorrer, I have here the trail of the money for your perusal, from Amsterdam to Toronto, and from Toronto to your bank branch right here. The individual we seek is a dangerous man, but only if he’s given no alternative. That will not happen. We have no intention of doing anything inside your bank, other than making a positive identification. All other
procedures will take place outside of the bank’s area of responsibility.”

  “Hmm. I like the way you have taken our daily business into account Inspector, I must say that I appreciate it. I was somewhat shocked to receive the order from Head Office to cooperate fully with your requirements. It is unusual for a Swiss bank to become involved in affairs of this kind, and the more secretive we are on the subject, the happier I will be.”

  “That’s covered by the ‘Need-To-Know’ status of our operation, as I stated at the outset, Herr Schnorrer.” She was back to being polite, calling him ‘Herr’, instead of ‘Mr.’ Schnorrer. This was going down well so far.

  “There is one thing that I would like you to do for us, in addition to supplying the statements of deposit and withdrawal, along with the locations.”

  “I see, and that would be…?”

  “I want the account in question to become accessible only through the tellers at this branch. I want all ATM transactions to be answered by a ‘Please contact your branch’ message. As well, no other branch of this bank is to process any requests at the teller stage. In other words, I want a hold put on the account. It will be described as a ‘computer error’, and left at that. No more information is to be given, other than being required to show up here in person to straighten out the problem. That will give us an opportunity to identify the account holder when he comes to his own branch to resolve the ‘problem’. This branch.”

  “Inspector! Please. That is a very serious breach of bank policy. I am prepared to help, please don’t misunderstand me, but at what cost? If this gets out, the press would crucify me, and then Head Office would burn the remains.”

  “Herr Schnorrer, I can assure you that if this is leaked to the press, or anyone else, for that matter, it will be from your side, not ours. If I were you, I would handle the issue personally, and I would certainly not involve Msr. Reinvil. As I said, it is a Need-To-Know situation. You are the only one who needs to know at this branch.

  You’ll find that as you seemingly have forgotten, Monsieur Lachance has already sent a memo to this office, coded strictly for you, using the Inwestek Bank password and encryption routines in place for the current week. I believe it was dated last Tuesday.” Here was another of those pauses. At least ten to fifteen seconds, and no words were uttered by any of the three alleged people in the room. Godsen wouldn’t let this opportunity for the kill pass any longer than that, I was sure. I was right. Just as Schnorrer was about to speak she ran right over him.

  “Hmm…”

  “You’re not going to tell me you haven’t had a chance to review the memo, are you? Because if you are, I have a copy here,” I heard some papers rustling. “Here we are. Take a look at this, and note the date.” There was more silence as Schnorrer read the memo. He could check with head office now, and find that the letter was genuine. He could also look from now until doomsday and he wouldn’t find any memo. There wasn’t one sent.

  “Feel free to verify this with Monsieur Lachance, whom you know is the Federal Liaison Board Member for your bank. In that role he has the final say on these types of matters. As we like to say Herr Schnorrer, it’s a ‘done deal’. Here are the Interpol and Swiss papers outlining the extent of the operation, and setting out the authority to mount it.

  Starting tomorrow morning, Agent Billings will be showing up on the floor as a general bank clerk. Any action on the account we’re interested will be passed to her, we’ll take it from there. Process the whole thing like what it is supposed to be a computer error. It should only take about fifteen minutes to clear up. During that time, we get organized for an arrest as he leaves the bank. That should be all there is to it.”

  “I see. How shall we refer to uh, Agent Billings, and where shall we place her?”

  “On the bank floor, at one of the open desks in the main area will be fine, and for purposes of cover, Agent Billings will be using the alias of ‘Ms. Angela Freidrich’. Her Swiss-German is adequate to the task. The only real communication will be when our target subject shows up to straighten out the account problem. That shouldn’t be too difficult to implement, should it?”

  “No, not at all. I’m sure we can accommodate you, and make ‘Ms. Freidrich’s stay here pleasant enough.”

  “We’re not looking for a pleasant stay, Herr Schnorrer, we’re looking for our target. The main branch will be processing the account ‘error’ before the close of business today. You can set it up at this branch however you want to, as long as the results are as requested.

  In order to change what I have requested, you will have to go against the Board’s ruling. Then you’ll have to deal with Monsieur Lachance, the Board Member responsible for Federal Liaison for Inwestek Bank, with the Swiss government, and International governments.

  Again, I urge you to keep this information to yourself, and your direct superior on the Board dealing with regards to these matters. There is an element of danger involved with this case, but only if you tie your name to it. If I were you, I’d keep a nice low profile until we’re done. I think that brings us up to date. Ms. Freidrich will be here at opening time tomorrow. The one additional thing she will need will be an account on the system at the local level, here, with one of your networked PC’s. The master logon account has already been set up at head office.”

  I could hear the sound of papers rustling and chairs squeaking. I guess the meeting was over.

  “Well, it seems that everything has been thought out carefully and taken care of in advance, Inspector. I will look forward with… relief, to the successful completion of this affair.” Schnorrer stopped there, trying very hard to end the meeting on a point score for his side. Godsen just sort of ignored him.

  “Agent Billings will be here by nine tomorrow morning. What you say to your staff with respect to Ms. Freidrich’s sudden appearance on the floor of the bank is up to you. I would respectfully suggest that she be treated as a ‘visitor’ from the Head Office. Good day.”

  There was a sigh big enough to come across the audio link like Schnorrer was standing next to me.

  “Good day, Inspector. Monsieur Reinvil will see you out. Ms. Freidrich, I will see you in the morning, and I will also assign you an assistant to be a… is it ‘Go Between’ you say?”

  Westwood finally had something to respond to.

  “No, but it will do for our purposes. Thank you, Herr Schnorrer.”

  There was the sound of the automatic door operating again. I wondered if there were any special lockups in the general vicinity of Schnorrer’s office, or if he required a certain type of environment. Allergies, whatever.

  Less than five minutes later they both walked out into the orange-tinged sunlight starting to flash through the overcast sky, down at the edge of the horizon. In the far distance the clouds were already dispersed enough to give those fortunate enough to be over there a clear sky. And a sunset to come.

  Sunrise and sunset are two of my favourite times of day. The emotional lift of a new day, with the promise of everything life has to offer, conveyed by the celestial messenger, Sol. That got me up. Then the emotional release of a day spent and done. Whether it was good or bad, it was over, and the light faded to black. Of course, it was necessary to have a clear sky for that.

  I got the van started, and pulled out to circle the block, using right hand turns, thereby bringing me up on the blind side of the bank, where they’d gotten out.

  As they hit the sidewalk, I was passing through the intersection. Heading up the street, passing them, as they turned to walk to the corner. Godsen never even blinked when she hit the corner, she quickened her pace, if anything. Westwood, though. She did a one-eighth at the exact step before the step out of view. She stood there for the time it took Godsen to get to the van, then she turned and quickly joined us. I was out and away before everyone had even gotten their seatbelts done. Living wild, but hey, we were out of there.

  The drive back to the hotel was as quiet as the trip over had been, except for the s
tereo, playing Beatles tunes from the White Album. I kept it down to a conversational level, and nobody complained or commented. Fifteen minutes later we pulled into the parking slot on the side street that we’d vacated when we left. It was just luck, because as I came around the corner, a compact car of some vintage pulled out of the very same space.

  A few minutes later and we were back in our suite.

  ~

  Chapter Twenty Two

  C

  olonel Godsen gave me a report on Schnorrer, and the upstairs area of the bank. It was pretty much as I had imagined it. The briefing lasted less than five minutes. When she was done, I asked the obvious question.

  “Did you get the feeling that he was hostile towards the operation?” She picked up on what I was asking.

  “It wasn’t so much that, although it played a part in my approach to him. He’s one of those Swiss that thinks women are useful, but only in their place. Which is not at the top of anything, never mind an international police organization.”

  “Hmm. I wondered, because you came on pretty heavy with the old boy. Mind you, it seemed to come off well, so it was a good call on your part, though, by the way, about eighty percent of the men in this country feel the same way.”

  “It’s so nice to know that you approve.” She was starting to get snarky, so I dropped the subject.

  Maybe she needed dinner, I know I did, but I wasn’t going out before full dark had set in. There was a small jazz club on the Niederdorf that served the best blackened ribs that I knew of in all of Europe. The jazz wasn’t always up to scratch, but occasionally they booked a trio or quartet from the mother continent. They were usually pretty good, then. Tonight, I’d see one of those if I was lucky. Therese was coming too, although she didn’t know it yet.