The Pearl Thief

by Fiona McIntosh

  ‘Oh, and you thought you might escape the weather here, did you?’

  Katerina laughed. ‘No, I’m involved with antique jewellery and have come to this region to admire the jet. That’s a lovely piece you’re wearing.’

  ‘Ooh, thank you, love. My old man gave me this on our wedding day. My granny said it was good for nowt but mourning jewellery. But I’ve always thought it bonny. Anyway, what’ll you have?’

  ‘Er, a weak shandy, please.’ She knew from experience that suggesting a glass of wine in these parts would earn her a scathing look. ‘Beer for you, doctor?’ She was sure this would impress the lady behind the bar … better than the name Otto, anyway.

  ‘Lovely,’ he said. ‘A half pint of whatever’s local, please.’

  ‘I’ll bring them over – you go get yourselves warm by the fire. Here we go, take those menus too.’

  Katerina smiled and joined Otto at the table furthest from the bar, closest to the fire and next to the small picture window that looked out over that ancient crenelated seawall of north Yorkshire stone, onto the bleak seascape below. The stone had weathered to golden toffee, unlike its cousin in west Yorkshire that blackened with age. It seemed to take an eternity pulling off all the extra outdoor clothes and piling them on the bench seat nearby. ‘I actually love it here in winter,’ she shared, gazing out onto the restless North Sea with its foaming breakers that would soon roar back in to shore.

  ‘I have to agree that it’s deliciously atmospheric,’ he said. ‘Katerina, you are still too thin but very beautiful. It’s wonderful to see you in the flesh again.’

  This was her first opportunity to look upon him properly face-on. Maturing twenty years made no difference; annoyingly, he was still as handsome as she recalled from her youth. ‘What’s with the new beard when the rest of the world is becoming relentlessly clean-shaven?’

  He shook his head. ‘Lazy, perhaps. I’ve had it for years.’

  ‘Suits you.’

  ‘My wife doesn’t think so.’

  ‘And you don’t go out of your way to please her?’

  ‘In so many ways!’ he answered, feigning despair. ‘But I lead a busy life at the hospital and in my clinic, and with three children to run around, it’s hectic. My personal grooming comes last behind the dog walks in our household.’

  ‘Three children?’

  He looked guilty. ‘We adopted a Polish ten-year-old last year. I haven’t had a chance to tell you. The child of refugee parents who both rather tragically died having somehow survived the worst years; it’s a long story, but she’s wonderful. Turned our lives upside down, including those of her older sister and brother, but she’s quite the princess.’

  ‘That’s lovely, Otto … I like that you’re still taking lost little girls under your wing. Even so, the guilt is not all yours to bear.’ She reached out and squeezed his hand but didn’t linger. The warmth of his skin remained with her, though.

  He nodded. ‘Her name is Lili,’ he said as their drinks arrived. ‘It’s Marie she’s closest to … even calls her Mama.’

  ‘Here we go, loves. Now, food? It’s just I promised the cook we’d close up early – we usually do in the cold weeks.’

  ‘Oh, yes, of course, that’s not a problem,’ Katerina said. ‘Erm, let me glance at this menu.’

  ‘I’ll have the fish and chips,’ Otto said, keeping it simple.

  ‘What’s the soup for today?’ Katerina enquired.

  ‘The cook calls it fish chowder. I can vouch for it.’

  ‘I’ll have that and steal some of his chips.’

  The woman grinned. ‘Won’t be long, then.’ She left them to it with only the sound of the fire hissing behind them.

  Katerina glanced at the motley collection of fishing ephemera across the cosy main bar. Everything from old storm lanterns and coppers to mugs with inscriptions and small pieces of carved drift-wood. The low tin ceiling was pressed into a familiar shape and felt like it was squeezing in on her suddenly.

  The hour of magic was over. The bubble that she’d allowed herself to move in burst as he finally framed the enquiry she could hardly avoid.

  ‘And so, Katerina. Why have you brought me here under a cloud of worry? I can see you are well. Do you need money? Is Milena ailing, or perhaps it’s —’

  ‘Otto, I haven’t asked you for money in seventeen years and Milena is in robust health. No, it’s not any of us.’

  ‘All right …’ He frowned, waiting.

  ‘It’s him – Ruda Mayek.’

  Their meals arrived in a bustle of Yorkshire bonhomie to break the tense moment as the kind landlady laid out their meal.

  ‘Soup’s hot, love. Watch you don’t burn your mouth,’ she warned and then left them to their food.

  ‘Eat,’ Otto instructed, remembering a holiday chalet twenty winters ago in a snowed-in forest. ‘And tell me.’ He noted now that Ruda Mayek’s name was spoken Katerina’s face had lost its excited tension at their reunion and relaxed into what could be compared to a waxy mask.

  She ate mechanically but he watched each mouthful of soup and bread that she chewed slowly. It was true that he could barely taste his food since she’d spoken that devil’s name; freshly filleted fish, fluffy log-like chips unlike the thinner versions in Europe, oozy tartare sauce, buttered bread … it all tasted the same, like slightly soured cardboard because of Ruda Mayek.

  Katerina spoke uninterrupted and in her usual manner kept her information factual, her words spare.

  She looked up from the half-finished bowl of soup. Silently she scissored out an arm to hold his hand; he pushed away the thought of how now, as much as back then, he could wish to kiss those beautiful angles this moment, make her life feel safe in his embrace, but it was too late. They had begun their walk down this dark path once again.

  ‘I couldn’t think straight when Edward refused to help. I needed space to work out what to do next. But I was also terrified all over again – I had to find a safe place. He must never find us —’

  ‘Sssh,’ he soothed softly. ‘This solicitor, Summerbee; tell me about him.’

  She told him what she could.

  ‘So it’s not that he won’t help you; you can see that legally his hands are tied.’

  ‘It’s as though he’s deliberately hiding behind the law.’

  ‘Hardly hiding when the law demands he follow it. From what you’ve said, I think he’s behaved not only reasonably but generously. If I’m not mistaken, you effectively ensnared him with your letter —’

  ‘Which he didn’t read!’

  ‘Which he certainly did read, according to you, because you waylaid him at a swanky London restaurant, brought his evening with his date to a sharp close – imagine the embarrassment – then forced him to hear you out … again. He sounds like a scrupulous lawyer, which I admire, and a good man because he relented and took you into his home, agreed to read your letter against all his better judgement, fed you, listened to your whole story and then tried to give you the best advice he could.’

  ‘I wanted a single name and place … he wouldn’t give me that.’

  ‘Would you give up the single name and place of your secret?’

  Her gaze narrowed in fury.

  ‘No, you wouldn’t. Well, he’s in the same situation. A client is – in a legal framework – his most treasured person. And please, let’s not ignore the fact that he’s representing another law firm, not the original client.’

  She blinked that memorable fierce, damaged stare in consternation and he knew she was angry with him for taking the wrong side. ‘Summerbee isn’t the enemy.’

  ‘I know,’ she suddenly relented, filled with a tone of exasperation as she lowered her gaze to stir her soup angrily.

  ‘Yes … I think you do know that.’

  She cut him a look of enquiry. ‘What does that mean?’

  He drew a breath and put his cutlery down. ‘I’d take a solid guess that you’re fonder of Mr Summerbee than you want to admit.’ />
  ‘Otto! Where do you get such an idea?’

  He grinned. Even her accusation sounded high and false. ‘When you speak of him there’s a softness about your tone. You fidget at his name.’

  ‘Don’t be absurd.’

  ‘I’m not. Look at me.’

  She did so awkwardly.

  ‘This is me, Katerina, your friend. Someone with no guile who truly loves you. Tell me you have no affection towards Edward Summerbee? Be honest.’

  She hesitated and ran a nervous tongue quickly over her bottom lip. ‘I don’t hate him. Actually, he’s very easy to like and we’ve …’ She trailed off, sounding embarrassed.

  His eyes widened with only a small flash of jealously; mostly he was excited for her. ‘You’ve what?’

  ‘He kissed me … he probably felt sorry for me.’

  ‘I doubt that. You wouldn’t let someone get that close unless you invited it.’

  ‘All right, all right, we kissed.’ She blushed, pushing her bowl forward in disgust at herself. ‘It was a weak moment for both of us and changed nothing.’

  ‘Oh, Katerina, it changes everything!’

  ‘A kiss?’ she accused.

  ‘For any other person I’d agree, but not you.’

  ‘Don’t, Otto. This isn’t helpful.’

  ‘It is. We’ve avoided it. Katerina, I’m turning sixty this year.’

  ‘I know,’ she sulked.

  ‘And you’re a vibrant, brilliant 36-year-old with a great life ahead of you.’

  ‘Not if Ruda Mayek is still alive and trying to enjoy the proceeds of my family’s property.’

  In spite of their reason for coming together today, he was glad they had finally broached the topic that had sat between them like a third person since they’d met, and yet a thought struck at her remark that sent all of that skittering to the side.

  ‘Katerina, you’re making it sound as though Mayek is hunting you?’ He reached for her as her skin, so warm and blushing on the beach, gave up that colour like water draining to leave only the cold white enamel of a sink. He was sure her breath was held, as if that intimate part of her didn’t want to absorb the air around his words, let alone the words themselves. She shrank from his touch. ‘Forgive me. It suddenly occurs to me that maybe he does know how to find you …’ He sensed his own healthy colour blanching at the thought.

  ‘How could he know?’ She stared at him for help.

  Otto felt his forehead tighten into a frown. ‘Well, the museum contacted your Mr Summerbee, who quite rightly would have contacted his client. And, if you’re right and this is indeed Mayek probing to see what response the Pearls can provoke, those international solicitors would have contacted him. He would surely have asked for the name of the person making the claim.’

  Her lips seemed to bleed out their colour. She looked cold in the cosy bar. ‘So he could be following me …’ She trailed off her words, scowling with dark thoughts.

  He reached to reassure her. ‘This is supposition, Katerina. We don’t know this.’ But he could tell she was no longer hearing his reason.

  ‘He’ll hear them utter the name of Kassowicz and shock or not, he’ll know I’m alive. He’ll discover that I’m on loan to the British Museum and attached to the Louvre. Who knows what enquiries he might have already made?’ She was fully distracted now, her gaze dislodged from him to the sea and beyond. ‘I have to ring Daniel.’

  ‘The spy?’

  ‘Yes.’ She reached for her bag, dragged out her purse and began rummaging for change. ‘Excuse me?’ she called out to the lady behind the bar. ‘Is there a public telephone nearby?’

  ‘Just through there, love.’ She pointed. ‘All done with your plates?’

  ‘Yes,’ Otto said, emptying his pockets of change. ‘Here, I don’t need pennies and shillings to take home with me.’

  Katerina gratefully took his money. ‘I’ll be back.’

  27

  ‘Daniel?’ Her dry mouth convinced her she could taste the soil of a grave. The demon was out again.

  ‘Katerina.’ He sounded relieved but as usual controlled. ‘Where are you?’

  Did he already know she was no longer down south? ‘I’m safe.’ Katerina decided she would lead this conversation. ‘I’m sorry I left London without word; I needed to get away and think.’ She sensed he knew not to push. ‘I’m with Otto,’ she relented.

  ‘Schäfer’s in England.’ It wasn’t a question; his quick mind had clearly already calculated hers wasn’t an international call. Nevertheless, he couldn’t entirely hide his surprise.

  Katerina wasted no time with further explanation. ‘He just asked me if Mayek could be following me.’

  When Daniel didn’t answer immediately, she knew he was getting those complex thoughts of his in order, perhaps running ideas for how to soften an inevitable blow. He couldn’t. He answered bluntly. ‘I believe he is, yes.’

  Not that he could be … but instead certainty. She felt years of security dissipate like smoke into the wind, reminding her that the life she’d built under a false name had always been a smokescreen and she had never been safe. ‘You’re sure?’

  ‘No. Not one hundred per cent. Let’s say ninety-nine, though; it’s why I need you here.’

  ‘So you found him in Paris after all,’ she said, feeling sick at the thought of him roaming around her home city.

  ‘He was in Paris, and now he’s in London.’

  She inhaled sharply and tumbled a fresh pile of coins into the phone. ‘You’ve seen him?’ She nearly gagged on the words.

  ‘I’ve seen the same man I now believe to be Mayek several times and I’m convinced he’s following you. Tell me where you are.’

  She covered her mouth to prevent any sob or sound of terror escaping. Katerina forced herself to breathe and tried to recall her fighting spirit, not just from the night of the forest but in Paris when she’d promised Daniel that she wanted a confrontation with Mayek. ‘No. Not yet.’ Her breathing was hardly slow but it wasn’t audible and she was regaining control of emotions that had felt like a whirlwind across the landscape of her mind.

  ‘Let me call you back. Give me your number.’

  ‘No, Daniel. I know how smart you are and the tools you have at your disposal. I don’t want to be found just yet by anyone.’

  He sighed. ‘What about Summerbee? I’ll admit he’s desperately worried too.’

  ‘You’ve been with him?’

  ‘Much of last night. You might even call us friendly.’

  And there he was in her mind: lovely, principled, incorruptible Edward, gazing softly at her, concern crinkling his forehead, pinching those lips she had enjoyed too briefly. She really wasn’t being honest with herself about Edward; even Otto had seen right through her. She wanted to taste those lips again … and again.

  At her hesitation, Daniel took this as his cue to explain what he knew. Her breathing slowed further as he spoke, and while she felt even colder to hear that Daniel had seen Mayek outside her flat in London, the chill brought with it that rigid strength she had learned to count on. It spread like frost covering a windowpane: beginning at the edges, crystallising inwards. She feared him, yes … but not the challenge of finally dealing with him. She was an adult now. More level terms. She felt that same wintry anger that she’d experienced in Paris when she’d made her promise to Daniel. The ice was back. She knew what had to be done now and she knew how.

  ‘Katerina?’

  ‘I’m here,’ she mumbled. ‘Does he know about Edward?’

  ‘Of course he knows of Summerbee, being the solicitor handling the matter of the Pearls.’

  ‘I mean about Edward and me?’

  ‘What does that mean?’

  So Edward had said nothing. ‘Being at his home,’ she replied, quickly covering what she’d meant.

  ‘No,’ he said, sighing, as if talking to a wayward child. ‘I don’t believe so.’

  That was a relief. She didn’t want Edward in danger too. She slo
tted the last of her change into the telephone. The money wouldn’t last long. ‘When did you get back to London?’

  ‘I didn’t leave.’

  ‘I thought —’

  ‘It was a ploy … And before you get angry, it was to protect you from panicking about something I wasn’t sure of until the night you disappeared. My internal radar was stirring in Paris and I took the precaution of shadowing you just in case but in London I became suspicious we were being followed. I couldn’t be sure by whom and needed to make certain I wasn’t imagining it … because I cared about you so much.’ He cleared his throat. ‘So I pretended to leave. I wanted to see what he’d do. He’d even have seen me enter the railway station and buy a ticket if he’d bothered to follow me, but he is only interested in you. I’m presuming he thinks we’re lovers and I’m no threat, especially if he can get you alone. I doubled back to keep you close … keep you safe.’

  ‘Thank you.’ What else could she say even if she did despise the fact that he had lied, that Daniel had followed her, had followed Edward, knew her every move? ‘So where is Mayek?’

  ‘Right now, I don’t know.’

  She gave a hiss as criticism, which he ignored.

  ‘So we have to draw him out,’ he continued.

  ‘How?’

  ‘With you.’

  She swallowed. It felt powerful to talk about wanting to look him in the eye again, to defy him, to show him that she had survived and was now going to bring him down. That was certainly inspiring and motivating but talk was hollow; it suddenly felt like she’d eaten old snow, as though her belly were full of the grimy slush that gathered at the side of the road.

  ‘Katerina? You do want this, right?’

  She moistened her lips to be sure she could speak. She thought of Otto Schäfer’s courage in the face of certain death; she thought of Mrs Biskup risking everything for her. And she found her own bravery from nearly two decades of hate and despair; it was within her reach now to challenge him again. ‘I do. But you have to promise to give me some time to say something important to him.’