“Well, it’s not. It’s for Aram Faji…. He designed and made all the costumes for the Handel.”
“You’re sure?”
Charlotte nodded. “I’m sure. I thought I recognized the handwriting when I saw it, but the likelihood that Aram would write a message on a napkin seemed, well, frankly odd. I mean, why would he do such a thing?”
“Why indeed?” Daniel agreed.
Charlotte looked at the other ciphers. “I’ve no idea what these other things are, but this, the 555-0055 is his cell phone number.”
“Wait a minute,” Daniel said. “How is it you recognize his phone number?”
“He worked for me. I called him all the time about work.”
Daniel pulled a skeptical frown. “Just another employee, eh,” he said, gently mocking her excuse.
Charlotte jabbed Daniel in the arm. “You’re jealous!”
“I am not!” Daniel said defensively.
“You are!”
Daniel moved toward the edge of the bed.
“Where do you think you’re going?”
“I need a cold shower.”
Charlotte pulled Daniel back into her arms. “Come here, you silly man.”
Chapter 45
Crisis
THE RAP at the front door startled Amal. He put down the book he’d been reading and checked the clock on the wall in his private room. Nine o’clock. Who would be calling at this time of the morning? Amal went to the window that overlooked the street. He could just make out two figures standing on the stoop.
Amal hurried down the stairs and opened the door. He stood looking at the pair with a quizzical smile. “What may I do for you?”
Daniel said, “Amal, we need to speak with Jan. It’s urgent.”
Amal bowed slightly. “Please, come in.”
Once indoors, Amal said, “I’m sorry my master is not at home. May I give him a message?”
“A message? No, we need to see him right away. When will he be back?”
Amal shifted nervously from one foot to another. “I am not certain.”
“Well, did he take his cell phone with him?” Daniel said.
“I will look. He keeps it in a drawer in the kitchen.”
“He keeps his cell phone in a kitchen drawer?”
Amal shrugged. “He doesn’t like them—cell phones I mean, not kitchen drawers.”
The cell phone was in the drawer, just as Amal suspected. Urgent. Mr. Jelski said urgent. Amal lifted the handset on the kitchen phone and punched in a number.
“Mr. Sinclair? This is Amal. I need your help.”
Chapter 46
The Bride’s Cottage
“IT’S FOR you,” Stephen said, handing the phone to Jan.
Jan accepted the phone and shot Stephen a concerned look. “This is Jan.”
“Effendi! I’m so glad I found you,” Amal said, clearly relieved.
“What’s going on, Amal?”
“Mr. Jelski is here. He will tell you.”
“Ama—”
“Jan? It’s Daniel. Don’t talk. Just listen. Charlotte figured out part of that napkin thing. The words are from an oratorio by Handel. That’s what the GFH initials mean. The oratorio is the one that’s all about revenge.”
“Alexander’s Feast—I know the music. What about it?”
“Now get this,” Daniel said. “The AF initials stand for the costume designer at the opera company. You know, that guy the Coast Guard fished out of the Delaware… the one with no head. Well, somebody killed him, and I think you were right about this having to do with the theft of that big diamond. Jan, I think this is a lot bigger than we thought.”
Jan looked out the window at the snow-packed lane.
“Daniel, I’ve got to get home. I want you to call Jack Frezzola. Amal has the number. Get Jack down here with his snowplow ASAP. Tell him I said to drop whatever he’s doing. I don’t care if he’s digging the mayor’s car out of a snowbank. Get it?”
“Got it.”
Jan gave Daniel the bride’s cottage address. “Oh, and Daniel, don’t forget to say thank you.”
Chapter 47
Happy Talk
JAN PARKED his car across the street from his townhouse and hurried across the uneven, slush-covered cobbles. He checked his wristwatch. Amal will be at prayer in his room. Jan let himself in, kicked off his wet shoes, and headed for the stairs. Out of the corner of his eye, he caught sight of his cell phone on the living room coffee table. Grabbing the phone, he called Daniel, leaving a message to meet him at Aïda Fabian’s house in one hour. Jan entered his bedroom, stripped off his clothes, and headed for the shower. Less than an hour had passed since leaving the bride’s cottage, and he was missing Stephen already. Stephen. Jan thrilled at the thought of him. I’m in love!
AMAL STOPPED outside of Jan’s bedroom and listened with amusement. Jan was singing something about being in love with a wonderful guy. Amal smiled and whispered a prayer for his friend. “Enshallah.”
Chapter 48
Puzzle Solved
“CHARLOTTE, YOU’RE a genius!” Aïda Fabian said. “I suppose as a woman, I should have thought about folding the paper into its original shape, but Jan gave it to me opened and flat. I was so focused on the words that I ignored what they were printed on.”
“Well, if Daniel hadn’t told me it was from a napkin, I wouldn’t have thought of it either. I’m just happy that we’re close. I’m still very upset about Aram Faji. He was such a good man.”
“Do we have any idea what these other symbols are?” Daniel asked.
“Jan thinks one is a nuclear equation. But—”
“Oh, now that makes sense!” Aïda said. “I’ll bet those drawings that look like hourglasses are supposed to be cooling towers at nuclear power plants.”
“But which ones?” Daniel said. “They’re all over the place!”
Schiller let out a deep woof as the front door opened.
“Ah, Jan, come in. We were just discussing our puzzle.”
Jan kissed the women and clasped Daniel’s hand. “I hear we have progress thanks to Charlotte.”
After hearing Charlotte’s analysis, and reexamining the other symbols, Jan and Daniel agreed that Aram Faji was sending a warning of some kind.
“Jan,” Aïda said, “these Xs that feel like hourglasses, could they be cooling towers?”
Jan looked at the paper again. “Mrs. Fabian, I think you’re right. Now all we have to do is figure out what it all means.”
“Maybe the number five means how many plants are targeted?”
Jan nodded. “Mmm, perhaps. But which ones?”
“What about this phone number?” Daniel asked.
Jan replied, “I checked with the police. Aram didn’t have a cell phone on him when he was pulled out of the river.”
“It’s definitely Aram’s,” Charlotte said.
“Perhaps it fell out of his pocket when he went into the water,” Aïda said. “Or, perhaps he didn’t have it with him at all. He left the number for a reason. Clearly, he wanted someone to dial it. Now I wonder, where would he hide a phone?”
“My guess is, somewhere where he felt sure it would be found,” Jan said.
“I know!” Charlotte said. “The opera house.”
“Why the opera house?” Daniel asked.
Charlotte said, “It’s where he worked. He was working on the costumes for Alexander’s Feast when he disappeared.”
“Costumes?” Jan said. He pointed to what looked like a diamond pattern on the paper. “So that’s what this is. We’re getting warmer.”
The three looked at the roughly drawn image, then at each other.
“You don’t suppose….”
“Mrs. Fabian, if I’m right we may have found out where all those stolen gems ended up…. Aram Faji!”
“Oh, my goodness! Jan, I think you’re on to something! You’d better get going.”
Jan bent down to give Aïda a kiss. “I’ll call you as soon as I can.�
��
“Hurry, Jan. There’s no time to lose.”
Chapter 49
All that Glitters
THE QUAKER City Opera was housed in a building that was once a brewery. What it lacked in charm was amply made up for with vast spaces and great acoustics. Charlotte led Jan and Daniel through a maze of empty rooms, ending at a door marked Costumes/Staff Only. Charlotte turned her key in the lock.
“Well, here goes nothin’,” she said as she pushed open the heavy door and switched on the overhead lights.
“Oh, my God!”
The trio stood stock-still as they looked on a sight any ancient Persian would have recognized in a flash. Then Jan said in a hushed voice, “I think we found the gems everyone has been looking for.”
Daniel looked at Charlotte as he fingered a robe fit for a Persian queen. “Do you think they’re real?” he asked.
“Yes I do,” Charlotte replied, breathless. “Fake props look good from a distance, but they’re easy to spot up close. These are just too good to be faux gems.”
Holding up a jewel-studded crown, Daniel pointed to a large stone set in the center. “Well, what about this one? It can’t be real. It’s as big as a hen’s egg.”
Jan took the crown in his hands. “Jesu! As I live and breathe, I do believe this is the Vice-Regal Diamond.” Jan set the crown on the workbench and rummaged through a nearby pile of fabrics. He pulled a leather-bound briefcase from under a pile. “This, if I’m not mistaken, is the attaché case it came in,” he said.
Charlotte took the headpiece, turning it in her hand. “But why? I just can’t believe Aram would steal anything… let alone all this!”
Ignoring Charlotte’s disbelief, Jan focused on the issue at hand. “Charlotte, where are you staging this production?”
“Our first stop is Amsterdam… why? What does that have to do with anything?”
Jan chuckled. “You may know real diamonds when you see them, Charlotte, but you don’t know the diamond business. Amsterdam is the worldwide gem capital.”
“You mean he was going to sell them?”
“I’m not sure, but my guess is he was going to swap out the real jewels for stage ones. The real gems would then be sold, or exchanged for goods or services.”
Charlotte sat down on a stage stool. She looked at the glittering costumes. “Poor Aram. What did he get himself into?”
“Daniel, did you bring our puzzle with you?” Jan said.
Daniel pulled the paper from his pocket and handed it to Jan.
Jan ran his hand through his hair. “Well, we know the what, the where, and the how. Now all we need is the why—do you have your cell phone?”
“Where’s yours?” Daniel asked, knowing full well where it probably was.
“I left it at home.”
Daniel handed Jan his phone, frowning in mock disgust.
“Let’s see, area code plus 555-0055.” Jan punched in the numbers.
“Listen. It’s ringing! I knew it would be in here someplace,” Charlotte said.
“Over here!” said Daniel. After pulling out a drawer, he rummaged through balls of silk yarn, tossing them out onto the floor as he went along. Finally, “It’s empty.”
“Turn it over,” Jan said.
Daniel upended the drawer. There, taped to its underside, was Aram Faji’s cell phone. Daniel pulled the phone loose and looked at the pale screen. “Now what do we do? There’s not much power left.”
“Check the last incoming call.”
Daniel pushed the call history button. “The last call came from 215-222-5655.”
“Daniel,” Charlotte said, “that’s the landline extension in this room. Why would he call himself from here?”
“Are there any stored messages?” Jan asked.
“Yes! There’s just one.”
Jan took a deep breath. “Let’s hear what Aram had to say.”
Daniel pressed the message button.
If you are listening to this, then I am with my God. By now you must have figured out that you are standing among some of the world’s most valuable gemstones.
If you haven’t guessed already, I have for several seasons received stolen gems and sewn them into costumes. Once out of the country, I replaced them with paste jewels and passed the real ones on to a courier. I believed this was to help my country against the financial sanctions imposed by the West. I was lied to. The cutting off of that poor man’s hand made me realize this is wrong in the eyes of Allah. I now know that I was really working for al-Qaida. I have done a terrible thing, but it may not be too late. Al-Qaida is going to detonate bombs at nuclear power plants along the East Coast of the United States. The attack will come from the water. The Vice-Regal Diamond was to be sent to Amsterdam to help finance getting a dirty nuclear bomb. Upon its arrival, sufficient fissionable material was to be sent to a team working somewhere along the Delaware River. I hid the diamond here in this studio. For this, I believe I will be killed. I do know that without the nuclear material, the sabotage will have to rely on Semtex plastic explosive. I am very afraid. I am meeting members of the team tomorrow at the Broad Street Diner. I know I will not get anyone’s understanding, but I beg whoever is listening to this message, to seek out my wife and children, and see that they are safe….
INSIDE CHARLOTTE De Vere’s office, Jan had just finished a conference call to his friend FBI Special Agent Jack Woodhouse and the local FBI branch’s Henry Jessop. Tracking all electronic communications was an ongoing effort. With new information at hand, they had already begun to pinpoint the targets so carefully picked out by the terrorists and notified the Coast Guard that the attacks would come via boats. Now all they could do was wait.
Chapter 50
Just Desserts
DARIA’S VOMIT washed the slippery deck of the cabin cruiser. The recent squall had passed, leaving the dark water of the Long Island Sound heaving with white-capped waves. Added to this, the anchor line was too short to snag the seabed where Daria planned to set off with Sinan in the inflatable. As a result, the cruiser pitched violently in the rollers while the inflatable, already in the water, pulled hard against the lines holding it to the battered boat. Sinan smiled inwardly. A woman. She thought of everything—but this. Not so tough after all.
“Sinan! You fool! Help me!” Daria screamed over the sound of wind and waves, snapping Sinan back to the task at hand. Daria had dragged a waterproof canvas duffle bag up to the gunwale. Sinan squatted next to the bag as Daria unzipped the top, exposing the electronic firing device.
“I’ve already set the arming mechanism,” Daria shouted. “We need—”
“You what! Has the sea made you crazy? Semtex is nothing to fool with!”
The blow took Sinan completely by surprise. Her hard slap across his face made his ears ring. Daria grabbed Sinan’s jacket and pulled him in close to her. Her rage was almost palpable. Daria bellowed, “Never question me again. Our mission is more important than you can imagine. We are late as it is. By arming the bomb now, I can ensure it will be ready at a moment’s notice. Now, Sinan, you will help me heave this into the raft. Then you and I will get in the raft and set sail. We must reach the shore soon, or we will have to go in during daylight. I’ve already wasted time arguing with you. So go!”
Sinan nodded. He stood, said a silent prayer, and pushed the duffle bag over the side and into the inflatable. The thud of the bag landing on the floor of the raft was the last sound he and Daria would ever hear.
THE FOLKS living along the shore where al-Qaida’s hopes went up in smoke, with a dash of seawater, later said that it sounded something like a train wreck. One man swore he heard a woman scream, but thought it was just the wind. The Coast Guard cutter sent to intercept Daria’s boat found nothing but debris and steam coming off the water, but no bodies.
AT THE Tom’s River facility, Naji checked his watch. It had been hours since Daria had sent the text message saying that she was in place to transfer from the boat to the inflatable. Earlier, Si
nan had read the same message. He sat in the relative safety of the Alloway Creek, gathering his nerve. Both men waited.
ADEL STEPPED off the train at Philadelphia’s huge Thirtieth Street Station. He walked the 637-foot length of the main terminal with reluctant determination. He would have been happier to die with Sinan rather than face arrest and an American court, where he would most likely be condemned to a miserable existence in prison. Ignoring the taxicabs that lined the train station’s front entrance, Adel began an eighteen-block trek into the city’s heart. His destination: the Quaker City Opera House. His mission, he reminded himself, was the recovery of the Vice-Regal Diamond. When Daria had asked him if he would recognize the stone, Adel wanted to tell her that having to cut a man’s hand off to get it had forever imprinted the gem on his memory. Daria had sensed Adel’s hesitation and warned him that he was not to engage in heroics. The diamond, and what it would mean to al-Qaida, was paramount. Adel wasn’t sure he agreed with Daria, but he was a good soldier. He would do as he was told. How am I supposed to find the diamond? I don’t even know where Aram’s studio is!
Chapter 51
Mania
ANNA MOFFO’S lush voice filled the room with “Vissi d’arte.” Tosca’s tragic aria mirrored Kat Manlove’s aching desire for Daniel Jelski. For hours, Kat had played the aria in her head, a seemingly endless loop of despair. In hopes of banishing the song’s tormenting theme, she’d fished out the old recording that now played music that only served to make her sad longing even more evident. Kat had seen Daniel, along with Jan and that bitch Charlotte De Vere, race from Aïda Fabian’s house. Geez! I wonder where the fire is? That had been hours ago. Now, nerves frayed, Kat picked up her phone and dialed Aïda’s number.
Sparkles Page 14