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

by Michael Yudov

  She had come equipped with one of those knobbed rubber thimbles for counting money, not sewing. She started in on counting the notes. It went quickly, there were only two hundred notes. Each bill was a one thousand franc note.

  Tim had continued to turn around after locking the door and headed for the desk. When ‘Hans’ had seen me giving the chair to Louise, he’d turned right around and headed back to the door. There, he’d taken up position at parade rest to the right of it.

  Switzerland is the only country I can think of besides Israel that demands a minimum of eighteen to twenty-four months’ service in the army for all men of age, and makes it work. I think it’s eighteen or so. They teach you some basic army skill, and then they teach you how to prepare to kill if necessary. They also give you a rather good army rifle, short clip, bolt action. And when your time is up, you get to keep it.

  There are approximately six million or so Swiss, at last count, but practically every house and apartment in the nation had a military rifle, at least a few rounds of ammo, and one or more people capable of caring for the gun, and firing it if necessary. Like in an emergency situation. Not every country their size can boast a reserve army of, being reasonable, say, two million or so armed personnel. I suppose it’s that ‘short man-over achiever’ syndrome. Along the lines of Napoleon, perhaps. That, combined with the fact that every tunnel in the country–rail, highway, whatever–was mined with high explosives.

  In the event of war, the Swiss want to be neutral, as they always have been. Sort of. I believe that the people to whom these tasks are delegated have realized that in the modern world of the twenty-first century the world wouldn’t accept neutrality if it came down to another war, like WW III. It would be for or against. No more room in the middle. What’s a tiny nation to do?

  I stood beside the chair I’d just vacated, and watched the proceedings. When the count was done, Federmann picked up the cash and turned to the miniature credenza behind her on her left, where there was a note counter machine. She arranged the notes in a nice tidy pile and slipped them into the machine. The count was over in a few seconds. Two hundred, on the nose. I was satisfied. Then Federmann looked up at me.

  “Would you care to count it Monsieur Claxton?”

  “No. Thank you. I have a great trust in the Swiss banking system.”

  “Would you care for an escort to your destination?”

  “Again, I thank you but that won’t be necessary. I wouldn’t want to put anyone in harm’s way.”

  “Ah. I see, yes. Well, thank you gentlemen, you may leave.”

  Tim and ‘Hans’ were gone as soon as the words were out of her mouth. A strong manager, our Ms. Federmann.

  “Louise, thank you for your help. When you leave will you tell Tim to get Andre Kleiner the phone for me please?”

  Louise was up and out the door, leaving the cash, the Bankbook, and the paper bag.

  “I can offer you a nice briefcase to carry this in if you would care for it.”

  “No, thanks anyway though. I’ll just pocket the cash.”

  She reached behind her and took the pile of thousand-franc notes from the counter machine, and laid the pile neatly on her desk. Then she swiveled to the PC, and with a few key strokes began a print job. A few seconds later a document slowly pushed itself out of the printer. She placed the form for the authorization of the withdrawal beside the stack of bills.

  “For the records.”

  I sat back down in the now-vacant chair and started reading the document. She had taken the trouble to print it in English, so it went quickly. It was just what she had said it was. I signed on the line and our business was concluded. I checked my watch and noted that the whole thing had taken just twenty minutes. Not bad.

  A red light started blinking on her telephone, and she held up her hand, indicating that I should hold on for a minute. By now I wanted out. I had what I had come for, and it was time to go. Still, I waited. This time the conversation was in English, presumably for our benefit.

  “Andre, good morning, how are you today? Really? That’s excellent. Give her my best wishes, will you? Good. The reason I called you this morning Andre is business actually. I have a client, a very good client, Monsieur Jeffry Claxton, and he is coming over to your showroom to pick out a new vehicle this morning. I would like you to show him the very best service you have to offer. Yes. I see, that would be perfect Andre, thank you. And I will consider it, really, I will. Yes. Good bye.”

  Then she hung up the receiver with a small sigh, and turned back to me, ignoring Evie completely.

  “Andre is the owner of the Audi dealership, and he was a very good friend to my husband. Now he tries to have me over to dinner all the time, inviting what his wife considers to be ‘my type’ of eligible bachelor. It seems that once you’ve become a widow, nobody is willing to let you stay that way. But you are not here to talk about my problems. I have asked him to serve you well, and he will. He is also a friend of mine for many years. If you have any problems, please feel free to call me. I will do my best to smooth them out for you. Switzerland can be so complicated when it comes to paperwork and regulations.”

  She stood up from behind her desk and held out her hand. I took it, and expecting to shake hands with a soft touch, was surprised to find a business card palmed in it. I took the card as we released each other’s grip, and I picked the pile of notes from the desk, along with the Bankbook, slipping them into my inside jacket pocket. With the card. There was only one more thing. To get out.

  “I may just do that.”

  I had said it with a smile, being my most charming. At the same time, I was holding my arm out for Evie to follow my lead and get out of there.

  Federmann came around from the other side of her desk and walked us to the door of her office, which she opened for us, and wished us all the best.

  ~

  Chapter Thirty

  T

  he entire affair had lasted just over a half hour. ‘Hans’, whose name we never did get, held the door for us as we left. He was smiling and cordial, but I was sure that he was happy to see the back of us, and get his routine re-established.

  Once we hit the side walk I scanned the street starting on our side. It looked clean, and when I turned my attention across the road, Evie grabbed my left hand, since she was walking on the inside, weaving her fingers into mine.

  I looked at her directly. She smiled softly.

  “It’s clear on the other side, too. I’ve checked from the moment we came to the outside door of the bank foyer.”

  “Oh. Good, then.”

  “Yes. We only have a three-block walk on the sunny side of the street, and when we get there, we should have a significant amount of fuss made over us after that phone call. I’m not sure how you do it.”

  I gave her my best honest smile.

  “It’s just my sweet nature, Women feel protective towards me, they can’t help themselves.”

  There was no pause for contemplation here. Evie laughed right out loud, and from inside, not acting.

  “You could have helped this world change its future for the better single-handedly if you’d been available and on hand at any of the major turning points of history. That’s how protective I feel towards you.”

  “Now you’re just hurting my feelings.”

  I was still smiling though. Then I sobered up for a moment.

  “It isn’t always like this, Evie. Mostly I’m just a regular guy. I have a little agency for ‘Industrial & Commercial Investigations’. That’s what I do. Solve paperwork crimes, track down industrial espionage ‘leaks’, hand over the names and information that puts the names together with the info. Then I go home and have a beer, see what’s on PBS, listen to a little music, and hit the sack. Not so exciting, eh?”

  Evie wasn’t to be swayed so easily this morning, and she held on a bit tighter.

  “That sounds like a fine life to me. Might make a nice way for me to retire as well.”

  At th
is point I had no real idea what she was thinking, even though she was telling me.

  “You’ve got a great career in front of you Evie. Ronnie is all the things I was told she was. I believe that she has a future not in Covert Ops, or ‘Data Acquisition’, but I wouldn’t be surprised to see her as a cabinet minister one day, if not Prime Minister. You know what they say, catch a rising star, and hold on tight. You’ll get there too.”

  “I know.”

  I gave her a sideways glance. She had a conviction in her voice that I’d never heard before. She took it easy on me, being just a guy and all, and elaborated.

  “Remember, I’m on the inside. Privy to almost everything. It just suits me at the moment to be doing what I am. One day that’ll change, and I think I’ll want to see my own star, rise or fall, it makes no difference. I have to do it for myself. Sometime in the not-to-distant future too, I’d say.”

  “I see. Has this mission made any of those plans come to the surface a bit prematurely?”

  “I don’t think it’s premature. I think it’s almost time.”

  We crossed the next corner with a green light on our ‘walk’ sign. There wasn’t much traffic to watch for anyway, but we were both keeping a sharp eye out for the grey men. Those… people, and I use the term loosely, popped up every third place we went and I wasn’t taking any chances of getting taken by surprise.

  After crossing the intersection, we could see the banners of the car dealer’s lot. A small high-strength plastic cable had been strung about fifteen feet up, and connected at slim steel posts set about fifty feet apart all along the street front. The cable was festooned with triangular Day-Glo coloured flags, all marked with the stylized ‘K’ that was used in their logo. There were certain similarities in car lots the world over. I mean, the intention is the same, right? Move the machines. Buy low, sell high, move the machines.

  “Hmm. Okay, not prematurely, say… sooner.”

  She swung my hand a bit before saying anything. We walked a few more steps along the avenue, and now we passing the end of the lot, where all the spiffed up used cars were hawked.

  I just caught a glimpse of something out of place with the corner of my eye as we walked, and it flashed into my head–‘you passed it’–and…

  “Okay. Maybe ‘sooner’.”

  I had been turning my head back regularly to monitor rearward action, but this time I was looking directly to the left and just behind of me, and I couldn’t believe what I was seeing. I slowed, and stopped. Then I realized that I was being rude, and swiveled myself around to face Evie.

  “First, thanks for being honest with me, and secondly, I already see what I want. We can make this quick. We’re going to buy two cars, the first one is going to be right up your alley, an Audi 4-wheel drive station wagon. The very top model. You get to pick that one. You do the buying, as well. The second one I’ll buy for myself. Let me handle the second one. Have I told you that you look great today, by the way?”

  “Uh, let me think. Umm, nope. I don’t believe so.”

  “Well you do. You look… not great… fabulous—that’s more like it—you look fabulous. You should have children someday, if you want to, I mean. That’s a very personal thing these days to talk to someone about, but I think your children will be great kids. You’d make a great mother. Do you think you could do this kind of work and have a family too? Kind of hard. Maybe if you found a partner for your new venture, you could plan it out, have it all, you know?”

  All this time we’d been walking towards the corner and the showroom. Since I’d seen what I wanted, I’d been walking backwards, talking to Evie, spinning around to check the street, and then finally I started to settle down a bit, walking by her side once more. All of a sudden Eve just stopped.

  “Wait a minute. What the hell are you going on about? One second we’re talking about careers and the future, and the next you’re telling me I’d make a wonderful mother. I don’t even have a steady boyfriend yet. I’ve thought of nothing but my work for the last nine years. ‘Babies’ don’t enter the picture. Where do you get off talking to me about that kind of thing? Just shut up. Don’t say another word, Okay?”

  Then she put her arm through mine, and we started back towards the corner, and the showroom. She was mad as hell, but I knew what button I had pushed, and I could make up for it. I kept my gaze centered on the street ahead of me while I talked.

  “Evie, if I said anything that made you angry, I apologize from the heart. I was talking about the future. Possible futures. If there’s one thing I’ve learned in my life, it’s that you can’t expect that what you think is going to happen, will. There’s always a twist. Maybe it’s different for you, but that seems to be the way life plays out for me.”

  She seemed to be mollified by my words, and she slowed down her walk to the casual stroll we’d been using prior to my comments.

  “I just got excited for a minute about this… car thing. I don’t know how else to put it.”

  “Never mind, I accept your apology. Now forget that we ever spoke about that subject, Okay? I mean, can you?”

  “Certainly, Evie. Whatever you want. Okay, we’re here. Now it’s just cars on our minds, right?”

  “Right.”

  As we approached the corner, a well-dressed gentleman in his early forties came out of the door, and welcomed us as we entered. He was dressed in a three-piece suit, vest and all. It was a hot day for a vest. I suppose the same could be said for my jacket though.

  Andre Kleiner himself had come to hold the door for us and take care of our every need. How nice.

  The showroom was very much like any new car showroom, except for the Audis and Porsches. Those you only found in a couple of places in Toronto. After all, if you could buy a Porsche just anywhere it wouldn’t have the same thrill, would it?

  We were ushered into a finely appointed office, with various plaques on the wall commemorating the many awards for excellence in service to the clients in his neck of the woods, and so on. Coffees were offered and declined. One more coffee and I’d float away. I opened the negotiations, and then dumped them squarely on Evie’s shoulders.

  “Well, Monsieur Kleiner. I appreciate your taking the time to deal with us personally today. I would like to purchase two vehicles today. One, my um, my companion, will be handling the first purchase. I would like your attention focused on that for the moment. In the meantime, I’ll just take a walk around the lot, and see if anything strikes my fancy for the second vehicle.”

  I got up and Evie was on her feet right behind me.

  “Excuse us for a moment Mister Kleiner.”

  She followed me out of the office, and into the showroom.

  “What are you doing? What do you mean, ‘I’ll handle the first purchase? What do you want to buy? How am I supposed to know what price is acceptable? AND…”

  Before she could get out the entire manual on dressing down an officer of similar rank, I gave her my instructions, which stopped the stream of protest like flipping a switch.

  “I’m going to get a fast car. I can’t believe that you missed it on the walk over. It’s in the used car section. As for the new one, you buy whatever you want to buy in the whole dealership. I don’t care what it costs. Get something that works for the mission, and that works for you, because you’ll be the one doing most of the driving in it.”

  “Buy anything?

  “Evie, listen carefully. Buy any car you want to buy. Buy a Porsche if you think we can get all of our gear in it. The one I’m getting won’t have much room for luggage. Simple enough?”

  She sighed and shook her head.

  “Yes, it’s simple enough. I just don’t get you. I’ve never met a man who wasn’t all keen when it came to buying a new car, that’s all.”

  “But I am. Wait and see. Now have some fun.”

  I turned and walked away towards the side door that let out into the car lot. Evie turned and went back into Kleiner’s office. I hoped that she would get some
pleasure out of this exercise. It was beginning to look like I would.

  I had seen something that was just what I had always wanted, but believed that I would never possess. A Metallic Black nineteen sixty-six Corvette coupe with the split back window. The hottest machine that ever came off an American production line. I’d just found one in Zurich.

  It had been sitting in the back of the yard, with its nose pointed away from the customers, which meant that it was probably just brought in within the last couple of days. I walked towards the used car section, passing beautiful examples of precise and excellent engineering as I went. Volkswagens, Audis, and Porsches. I only had eyes for the ‘Vette.

  I crossed over the boundary between new and used, and now I belonged to the used car lot manager, if you followed the rules. I never liked rules when I was a kid, and the ‘Vette brought me back all those years ago, to when I had first seen the new ’66 Corvette Coupe, and back to Montreal in the summer of ’67. You remember it.

  The ‘Summer Of Love’. We never talked about it that way, we just lived it, but myself and all of the other youth of Montreal in the summer of ’67 were very busy. We had the summer of love, naturally. Everybody did. Then there was something that made the summer of ’67 come alive in a way I’d never believed existed. EXPO ’67. The world’s biggest and best international World’s Fair ever seen. The Mayor at the time, ‘Egghead’ as he was affectionately referred to by the people, Mayor Drapeau, was responsible for bringing the World’s Fair to Montreal. As he was also responsible for many amazing things that happened to Montreal, including the ’76 Summer Olympics. The tax base in Quebec is still paying for that one.