by Bryn Bauer
Sofia laughed again, “No. Nothing like that. I’m a kayaker and cyclist myself. I love my long bike ride on the Battery after class. Seeing the color of the homes, the ocean. It gets rid of the cobwebs and I actually feel like I’ve gotten a break before I have to start up again when I get home. I do enjoy other sports, but I always get pulled back to the sea.”
“I agree with you there. I’m glad you have something. In this kind of work, you need an outlet or you go under very quickly.”
“I can imagine. What’s Joe’s outlet? Do you mind my asking?”
Helena tilted her head evasively, “I’ll tell you when you’re older dear.” Sofia felt uncomfortable and willed herself not to blush. Helena’s smile widened and said “I’m sure Quint is ready by now, let’s go down.”
THREE
Indeed Helena was correct; in the dining area Quint held a tumbler of scotch talking with Joe. They both turned hearing the ladies’ enter. Sofia was slightly taken aback. She had never seen Quint look quite like this. Confident and effortless in a crisp button up shirt, dove grey blazer and trousers and platinum watch. He had obviously only had time to shower and dress. He had not shaved which lent a rugged note to the refined ensemble. Sofia usually saw Quint in his Columbia and North Face gear and in his “professor clothes”, but this was something altogether different. She had thought him quite attractive before but now, he looked… well, there was no other term for it. He looked sexy as hell. Quint turned and caught Sofia’s eye.
“Both of you look beautiful.” he said, keeping his eyes on Sofia.
“Shall we sit down?” Helena suggested.
The dinner passed pleasantly with light conversation. They sat and chatted about the day, about life at sea and the sweet, tender seafood. Sofia felt glad of the opportunity to get her feet under her before they officially started the interview.
After retiring to the living area when they finished dinner, Joe asked, “Sofia, have you ever heard of the 1935 Rudolph Caracciola Mercedes Benz 500K?”
“The Roadster Limousine?” Sofia’s eyes brightened.
“Ah, you have heard of it.” Joe and Helena looked impressed. “Go on, then.”
“It’s the car Mercedes Benz made for the race car driver Rudolph Caracciola as a gift. It’s one of a kind, certainly one of the most elegant pre-war cars ever made. But, isn’t it supposed to be rotting in some car part lot near L.A.?”
Joe shrugged, “Not exactly. We have reason to believe it was moved from there in the mid-nineties and is now in the hands of a collector.”
“How did you find out that it’s not in Los Angeles? The lot owner is supposed to be intensely private and tight on security.”
“Like all good entrepreneurs, we keep track of our resources.” Sofia began to ask a question, but Joe forestalled her. “In our business it’s imperative to keep track of anything that could be useful to us.”
Quint opened his mouth and looked as if he were going to continue explaining. A sharp look from Joe stopped him. Sofia was puzzled but didn’t speak. It was an interview after all, though she was more than a little intrigued by their interest in the car. The 500K was something only serious car collectors would actually keep track of. Why would lawyers care? Was this a suit to get the car back perhaps? Were they going to ask her to do interviews? She thought she could handle that fairly well. It might even be a little exciting. Wait, what was she doing? She was here as practice, not to take the job.
Helena broke Sofia’s supposition. “For your interview to be successful, you will need to find out exactly where the car is now.”
Were they proposing what Sofia thought? She alone would track down the car? She took a breath and said “I see, and this would be accomplished by searching title records, auction rosters and I imagine property tax documents?” She hoped she sounded matter-of-fact, not desperately hopeful like she felt. One look at the three faces in front of her gave the answer.
“Well, most of that work has already been done.” Helena said, “You will need to extract the information on the exact location through conversations with collectors.”
“You mean interviews.” Sofia asked though she didn’t think wealthy collectors would just drop everything to be interviewed by a law student.
“Ah, no” said Joe, his slightly curly salt and pepper hair lifting in the breeze that meandered through the open doors. Despite the wind, Sofia was boiling. This was sounding more and more confusing. She had to get the location without records and without interviews, the two things law school had actually prepared her to do. She wished they would just come out with what they wanted her to do. On the other hand, if they were dragging it out, maybe she didn’t want to know. Sofia glanced at Quint for support. He had promised that Joe and Helena were not psychotic. Quint cut a look at Joe who nodded.
Quint started slowly as if trying to find the best phrasing “You see Sofia, a lot of the background work has already happened. So, we know generally that the car is in Miami and this type of car collector, the ones who are interested in this kind of vehicle, are thin on the ground here. Most collectors in Miami are young, party types who want the latest and greatest.”
“Chick magnets.” Joe put in derisively. Helena cleared her throat significantly. Joe affected innocence. “Sorry, but it’s true.”
Sofia acknowledged this distinction and Quint continued. “Direct interviews wouldn’t do much good because whoever has the car is obviously trying very hard to keep it under the radar. Interviews would just tip them off that they’re being investigated.” Quint sat back. Sofia’s mind was working a mile a minute, the complexity of the situation becoming clearer.
Helena rose; her green silk palazzo’s swishing in rhythm with her step. She walked to the bar and picked up the bottle of wine. She continued the explanation, “That’s the reason we stopped searching records. We don’t want the owner to have time to move the car.”
Sofia asked, “How would they know if records were being searched?” It’s all public information isn’t it?”
Sofia gratefully accepted a fresh glass of wine. Helena returned the bottle to the ice and settled on the sofa explaining, “If you were the collector what would you do to hide that kind of item?”
Clearly the interview has begun, Sofia thought. Casting around her mind she vaguely remembered a friend of her father who had gotten into a “legal situation” as her father called it. She had only been fourteen years old at the time but she remembered that it had to do with a fairly high value piece of Civil War military paraphernalia. Then it clicked. “I would pay off the records clerk to ‘misplace’ the title and not file it. Then I would bribe someone at the auction house not to post the sale correctly, just take the item off the listings. That way, all the records are still there for insurance, but if someone else starts looking, I would at least get an alert when the registrar or auction house calls about the missing record.”
Joe smiled “Exacto!”
“Paper booby-trapping” said Helena nodding.
Quint smiled and shot Sofia a side long wink. Sofia knew she had passed the first test but she had a feeling this only got her into the high stakes round. Helena glanced at her rose gold Bulgari inlaid with diamonds around the face. “Sofia, I’m so sorry to have kept you up this late. I’m sure you’ve had quite enough for one day and will need to process some of this before tomorrow.”
“I admit it has been a long day. Thank you so much for this evening and the opportunity to interview, so far I’m very intrigued.” She conveyed her ‘goodnights’ and Quint turned to escort her to her cabin.
Helena called after her making Sofia turn. “Tomorrow, we’ll go into town after breakfast so wear something for lunch.” Sofia nodded and gratefully headed to her cabin.
When they reached her cabin Quint laughed and said, “Don’t you like how she calls a trip into one of the biggest, most vibrant cities in the U.S. ‘going to town’? Part of her Irish charm. So, what do you think so far?”
She gave hi
m a narrow look, “It’s not exactly what I expected.”
He sighed, “I thought as much. I could see your wheels turning a mile a minute.” Sofia looked away unnerved at his perceptiveness. “It’s only because I know you. To anyone else you appeared as though you sit on yachts discussing rare cars and criminal deception all the time.”
That made Sofia’s laugh bubble up to the surface and relieve some of the tension in her body. After a moment, Quint became aware that he was looking at her too long and speaking too little. He averted his gaze and cleared his throat before continuing. “Look, nobody expects you to be a pro overnight. We’ll go into the assignment details more tomorrow and Joe and Helena will give you some guidance and direction. They want you to succeed as much as I do.”
“Why? Isn’t this where they’re supposed to test me?”
Quint ticked off his fingers, “First, they aren’t assholes, and of course they’re going to help you a bit. Second, this information is important to them and their business. If you don’t find out where the 500K is, it means significant delays for their case and ultimately their paycheck. Third, because you’re talented and they admire talent.”
Sofia rolled her eyes which made them flash like a cat in the dark, “Well, thanks so much for taking the pressure off.”
Quint had the good grace to look abashed. “Sorry, but you’re the one who asked.”
“Guess I shouldn’t have.”
“As Homer would say ‘and what he greatly thought, he nobly dared.’”
Sofia gave him a lopsided smile. “And that’s my cue. Good night Quint, thanks.”
“Night.” Quint watched her door close and walked back to discuss the next day with Joe and Helena.
Sofia closed the door of her state room and leaned against it. It was strange, she felt even more exhausted than after exams, but also completely exhilarated. The mix of emotion reminded her of how her mother had tried to explain motherhood.
She had said “It’s a scary and wonderful adventure. All at once you feel as though you will drop from weariness but can’t sleep because you’re so excited just to be there holding this new life, dreaming of what it could hold for your baby.”
Sofia’s eyes moistened at the memory as she removed her shoes and sat on the soft down duvet. As excited and revved up as she was Sofia thought she must be far from what her mother had described because she was barely conscious of laying down fully clothed on top of the bed. Her last thought before falling headlong into sleep was, maybe this is my adventure, Mom.
FOUR
Sofia woke early the next morning, six o’clock by the blurry digits on her cell phone. Except for the gentle rush of water against the Mariana’s hull, the boat was silent indicating that she was the first one awake. She dressed quickly in a sky blue cotton A-line skirt and sleeveless white blouse. Putting her hair in a loose chignon, Sofia ascended the narrow stairs to the sun deck. The Miami skyline and periwinkle dawn slowly revealed themselves as she climbed. Once on deck, she leaned over the glass wall and inhaled deeply. The fragrant air sent a surge of blood and energy through her body. While she had always been very fond of the sea and boating, Sofia never felt quite this free. Boating with her family usually required being on alert to her father’s commands and playing hostess with her mother. Lorena Koury hated boating. She became intensely sea sick the second her foot crossed the threshold onto the deck. It was so severe, her mother had to get shots and swallow medication before going. These made her drowsy and didn’t always work. Sofia worried for her mother on overnight voyages as Lorena couldn’t bear to eat on boating excursions. Rayan Koury always insisted that his wife could have eaten but chose not to out of spite. When Sofia protested at his remarks Lorena would just say that he was stressed and change the subject to deflect the accusations to appear to support her husband.
Sofia pulled herself back to the view in front of her and took another breath, expelling the painful memories and gulping in the beauty before her. After a few minutes, Sofia retreated from the railing and turned to go below. She thought the least she could do was start the coffee and tea brewing. She thought of making breakfast but feared Helena would view that action as an invasion of her kitchen.
Sofia was still introspective a moment later when she rounded a corner on the main deck and nearly walked into the open engine room access door. She started and stifled a cry of surprise with her hand. Joe jumped from behind the door, looking just as startled as she felt. He hastily closed the door.
His voice was curt, almost to the point of being rude. “I’m sorry Sofia. I was under the impression that I was the only one up.”
Sofia replied ignoring his tone, “That’s what I thought too. We must both be early risers.” Joe did not reply, just looked at Sofia. She tried again, “I hope there’s nothing wrong with the engine?”
“Not at all, just routine checks.”
“I see. You are more involved than the men of my family”, she said, reaching for friendliness. “My grandfather and father just made the crew do it. I don’t think they even knew where the engine room was.”
“Well, I like to be involved.”
“You must be a handy mechanic too. Your clothes are spotless. Our crew used to dress in coveralls even for routine walkthroughs.” She laughed remembering and also finding it a bit odd. She had seen the mechanics after servicing the heart of their family boat and their overalls had always been filthy. Her attention was diverted from Joe’s white shirt and pants as he replied.
“Well, maybe his crew wasn’t up to the job. Excuse me, I’ll go and start the coffee.” He flashed Sofia a small smile that did not reach his eyes, then turned and headed toward the kitchen.
Deciding that conversation was not in the cards and not wanting to dig the hole deeper with a potential employer, Sofia headed to her cabin to finish getting ready for her outing with Helena. Half an hour later she opened her door to the welcoming smell of strong coffee and sizzling bacon. She followed the smell to the kitchen where Helena dressed in her signature kelly green silk tunic and flowing white trousers placed a platter of fresh tropical fruit on the counter. Along with the coffee, fresh guava juice, bacon and croissants, the aromatic cloud carried Sofia to her seat. Accustomed to a carton of yogurt or toast on the go, this was ambrosia. Joe looked up from his breakfast and newspaper.
“Sofia, I apologize for my abruptness earlier. My only excuse is that I had not yet had my cafe Cubano.”
Helena laughed, “God help us if we were ever stuck on a deserted island without coffee.”
A rich tenor called from behind her. “No kidding.”
Sofia looked around to see Quint entering, shirtless and glowing with health, obviously just returned from a run. Sofia had a difficult time focusing on her food.
Quint accepted a glass of juice from Helena and continued “I’ve run into him a time or two before breakfast. It’s not pretty. But, I don’t see any bruises, so he must have restrained himself.”
Joe huffed with a mock offended air. “You see the provocation I have to endure Sofia? It’s no wonder I need so much coffee in order to be civil. Even my Desert Rose is against me.”
“Desert Rose?” Joe looked at his wife whose eyes danced through lowered lashes. Joe swept his arm towards Helena like Shakespeare reciting a sonnet.
“She was a wondrous bloom in a barren desert.” Everyone clapped appreciatively. Helena held up her arm to show the rose gold Rolex.
“Just about every piece of jewelry he’s bought me since has been made of rose gold.” Sofia’s liking of the couple grew; she had never seen such devotion and romanticism. It was a rare thing, especially in the prim, straight-laced groups to which she was accustomed.
After breakfast, Sofia met Helena on the gangway. “What is the mission today?”
“Well, tonight we’ll be attending a party at Senor Roberto Aldama’s home in Coral Gables. It’s a chance for you to discover the car’s location. So, you need to wear something that stands out.” Sofia ha
d brought her own clothes but this didn’t seem like the time to argue.
Instead, she asked, “Is someone particular going to be there?”
“Many particular someones, but it’s going to be up to you to discover if they have special knowledge about the car’s location.”
“I see.” Sofia dearly wanted to ask for clues but understood none would be forthcoming. Maybe she would try to talk to Quint before the party.
As Sofia and Helena approached a cherry red Lamborghini, Sofia glanced at her. She couldn’t see Helena choosing such an ostentatious car but nonetheless said, “Nice car”.
Helena rolled her eyes. “This blunt instrument? Dear, it is not mine I assure you. Whatever Joe says about these being crass and for young socialites, it doesn’t stop him leasing one every time we stay in Miami.” She cut a conspiratorial look at Sofia. “I prefer something more refined, subtle. But, you know men. They have their vices.”
“So, better this than another woman then?”
“Love is all about compromise. We don’t own a car, and I don’t have that strong of an opinion so, why not let him have his way?”
They valeted the car at the Bal Harbor shops and Helena steered Sofia into Valentino. After the manager greeted her by name, Helena proceeded to make a beeline for a mini three-quartered sleeved cocktail dress. Sofia stared. Seeing her blank expression Helena said, “You don’t like it?”
“It’s beautiful, but I’m a bit concerned about the color.”
The dress was a vibrant red. True, it was tasteful, but she would be very visible. Plus, Sofia never wore red. Her father used to make her mother wear it to parties to “infuse festivity”, he said, but the purpose was really to distract his business opponents. Her mother had been wearing just such a red gown on the night of her death.
“Well, it will distract the guests from their plotting”, Helena said conspiratorially. Sofia’s ears rang with the echoes of her father. Of course, Helena hadn’t meant it in the same way, but to have the image her mother’s contorted body in the red gown thrust in front of her mind’s eye made Sofia queasy. Helena realized she hadn’t responded and looked up. “You’re white as a sheet dear. Come and sit down. What is the matter? You look awful.”