‘Par for the course, I’m afraid,’ I said.
‘Why on earth do their women put up with it?’
‘All Germanics are like that, and so is much of the rest of the world. Don’t forget it’s mostly because founder Apulius had four daughters with a fighting Celt for a mother that we are as we are. In those days, they just had to get on with it.’
‘Maybe.’ She sounded dubious. ‘But the old legions reported the women in Germania fought like demons.’
‘That was then, Prisca. Now they’re all good little hausfraus.’ I looked around at the faces of the few women present. ‘But I think there’s going to be a change.’
‘Why do you say that?’
‘Not sure, but half this year’s uni registrations here are from young women.’ I laughed. ‘Another exciting fact from my briefing.’
She laughed back, her tension released. She glanced around the hall. ‘How do you feel about changing into our casuals and finding somewhere quiet to eat?’
*
Berlin had over twenty thousand eateries, but we settled on one in Savignyplatz. The ornamental lanterns on the terrace were glowing brightly against the dark of the almost moonless night by the time we were sipping the last of our wine.
‘Gone half ten,’ I said, ‘so I think we should start back. I think you have a couple of meetings tomorrow then a trip to a science park?’
‘The meetings should be routine – sort of a “hello and nice to meet you”. I’ve been in contact with both of them over the past year by mail. But the factory visit should be interesting. I want to see their super-cold coating process.’
I had to admit, the part of my brain that dealt with the silver industry shut down at that point. I glanced around to check for hostiles. Damn, it was a reflex. I shouldn’t need it here, but it was hard to switch off after nearly ten years in the special forces. As Prisca was explaining exactly how the superfine Roman silver was perfectly suited to scientific manufacture, I was running my eyes over the possible places the ungodly could hide.
‘Sorry, Aurelia, I didn’t mean to be boring.’
I felt the red flush of embarrassment. ‘No, I’m the one being rude. Sorry.’
She smiled, picked up her bag and we stepped out on to the square. I raised my hand for a taxi. The first one ignored us, but the following one stopped and the driver got out and opened the door for us. I should have realised how wrong that was, but Prussians did have polite, if patronising, manners towards women so it wasn’t entirely unexpected.
I gave the legation address, but as I caught his cold satisfied smile in the rear-view mirror and heard the thunk of a central locking device, I realised we had made a colossal mistake.
‘Stop,’ I said. ‘I’ve left my coat behind.’
But he carried on driving and in the opposite direction to the legation. The street lights became sparser and we turned into a side street full of parked cars. But no people.
‘This is the wrong direction. Please turn round,’ I said.
He ignored me. I exchanged glances with Prisca, signalling her to stay quiet and tried again. ‘Please stop this vehicle and open the door. Now.’
He smirked at us in his mirror.
Hades.
Seizing the top edge of the front passenger seat, I launched myself over it. His head jerked back as I thrust my hand against his neck under the jaw. I brought my right hand down to chop his nose and found a revolver barrel in my face aiming for my eye. Too late, I ducked, avoiding most of the impact, but pain exploded as the barrel hit my head millimetres above the eye socket. Dazed, but I managed to bring my hand up, fingers clamped in parallel and jabbed into the soft stomach area below his ribcage. He grunted, crunched forward. The taxi veered and crashed into parked vehicles, juddering to a halt and flinging me against the far window.
As I recoiled from the window, he shouted, ‘Halt’. His revolver was two centimetres away from Prisca’s head. I froze. She was still as a rock, but her hands trembled.
‘Hands on the dashboard where I can see them.’
A car alarm was sounding outside, but nobody came out into the dark night to investigate.
He jabbed Prisca’s forehead with the barrel. Her head jerked back with the impact and she slumped over. I grabbed his outstretched wrist with both hands, twisted hard, forcing him to drop the weapon, then jerked his arm up to dislocate his shoulder. He punched in the direction of my face with his other fist but I ducked. I brought my fist down on his nose and heard the bones crunch. I followed through with a punch to the angle of his jaw. Jupiter, it was hard, but he screamed as his mouth dropped open, then he choked on the blood flowing from his nose. After a few seconds, he gave a moan and passed out. I fiddled under the dashboard and found the hidden central locking switch.
‘Call the police,’ I shouted at Prisca. ‘One one zero. Find a phone box. Now.’ She stumbled out of the rear door and away from the car. I heaved the belt from my slacks and tied our would-be kidnapper’s wrists to the steering wheel. Through the windscreen, I saw Prisca speaking into a public phone a few metres away, nodding her head, but shifting from foot to foot and tugging on the phone cord.
I pulled out my precious transceiver and radioed the legation for a security detail. I spotted an apartment block with a bar on the ground floor called ‘Studio 16’, according to its flashing sign, and gave it as our location. Prisca tottered back to the car and flopped back on the rear passenger seat. The dim street lights were reflected in her anxious eyes as we sat waiting in the damaged taxi.
‘What now?’ she asked.
‘Don’t worry, it’ll be some fussing and a little paperwork.’ I reached over and pressed her hand. ‘Depends who gets here first. I’d put my money on our people.’
I won my imaginary bet. A Praetorian optio and two guards, all in civvies, got to us six minutes before the police.
‘Protocol?’ I asked the optio.
He scanned us, the car, the thug tied up and the damaged car while one of the detail took photos. ‘Civilian police – Schupo,’ he said. ‘You go with them. Maximum cooperation, but no admissions, no background. I’ll roust out the legal consultor’s department to get somebody to dig you out.’ He jerked his head towards Prisca in the back seat. ‘Will she be okay with that?’
Prisca was pale, but sitting up straight now. She clasped one hand with the other, but she wasn’t trembling. I nodded.
He glanced along the road. ‘Here they come.’ He and the other two guards melted away into the dark as the green and silver patrol car arrived.
*
At the main police station, the Landeskriminalamt Berlin, Prisca and I gave our names and a brief outline, but didn’t answer questions until the legal consultor from the legation arrived. She breezed in, sharp suit, sharp haircut and sharp nose. Her Germanic rattled out at the detectives, almost cowing them. She gave Prisca a half-smile and me none. It was all routine, except they were curious about my willingness to attack our kidnapper.
‘Our government forbids paying ransoms,’ I said. ‘It’s up to the citizen to provide their own security against such situations when abroad.’ I shrugged. ‘We merely defended ourselves. But it’s a shock to be attacked in a friendly, supposedly civilised, country.’
Sharp Nose gave me a warning look.
‘So who is the thug?’ I asked.
The detective studied the pen on the table for a few seconds then raised his eyes to me. ‘We don’t know yet, but we’re looking through our files as a start. We’ll let you know if there are any developments. When he comes out of hospital, that is.’
As Prisca and I were being herded by the sharp lawyer through the entrance, the interviewing detective hurried up to me. ‘One moment, please, Delegate Mitela.’
Sharp Nose drew herself up ready to bat away any subsidiary questions, but the detective ignored her, directing his look at me.
‘Could you help me with an administrative matter?’
What in Hades did that mean? I nodded
to Sharp Nose to carry on; Prisca looked exhausted and needed to get back to the legation and her bed. I gave her an encouraging smile and promised to catch up with her tomorrow morning.
The detective led me into a different room, more a standard office with files piled neatly on the desk, a chipped filing cabinet and a smell of stale coffee, smoke and sweat. The nameplate said ‘Huber’ but behind the desk sat my cousin Joachim.
‘Sit down, please,’ he said addressing me in a formal voice. He nodded to the detective who promptly vanished out of the door.
‘What’s all this?’ I said, waving my hand around. ‘Why are you sitting in some policeman’s scruffy office?’
‘This is my office, Aurelia, and for the moment, you’re my guest.’
‘What’s that supposed to mean?’ The police medic’s painkillers were wearing off and my face was beginning to throb. I glanced down at the nameplate then looked back at him. ‘Your name’s “von und zu der Havel”, not “Huber”.’
‘I would have thought that you of all people would understand.’
‘You’re using your mother’s name?’
‘Yes, it makes things easier, but that’s beside the point. I asked you before what you were doing here. You flounced off. Now I need a proper answer. And we’re both staying here until I get it.’
Gone was my jokey cousin. In his place sat a completely serious Kriminalpolizei officer with a grim expression. He fished in his pocket for a pack of cigarettes and lit up. He inhaled and blew smoke to the side.
‘Surely it’s far more important to get out there,’ I said, ‘and find the people behind our attempted kidnapping than sitting here discussing my babysitting duties. Anyway, who are you to ask these questions?’
He handed me his card. ‘Kriminalpolizeikommissar Huber – GDKA/OK.’ Juno, he was one of the Germanic Federated States organised crime investigators. We were in the big time here. I glanced up at him, but he looked even grimmer, if it was possible. I decided to play safe.
‘I refuse to answer questions without a lawyer from my legation present. And anyway, accredited diplomats are not subject to interrogation by foreign police officials.’
He snorted. ‘Accredited diplomats, my arse. You’re here on a spying trip, probably organised by that old bastard Tertullius Plico.’
I tried my hardest not to blush, but felt heat rising up my neck. ‘Nothing of the kind. I’m here with a trade delegation. You saw me accompanying Prisca Monticola.’
‘Right. And I’m the queen of Peru.’ He smirked, then blew smoke out.
I wafted it away with my hand. ‘Your personal habits are no concern of mine. And how is dear Hasi, by the way?’
Joachim flushed at his partner’s name and made an angry backhand gesture.
‘All right, Aurelia, let’s stop posturing. Why does Plico want to know about Grosschenk?’
The more important question in my mind was why was the federal organised crime directorate so interested in a shady businessman who might or might not be a silver smuggler. We took it very seriously, but the Germanic Federated States had never become involved; it was a local problem that concerned the individual countries on our border, such as Bavaria. I was only supposed to find out if Grosschenk had any connections within the group of people on my trade mission. I’d taken a flyer by asking Joachim about our former classmate. Now I was about to get burned.
‘I really don’t know what you’re talking about,’ I said. ‘I only asked about him when we were catching up on the rest of our class.’
‘You’re not a good liar, Aurelia. You should practise more.’
‘Will you stop accusing me of something I haven’t done, or don’t know.’ I stood up. ‘I have a sore face and hand from preventing one of your nationals kidnapping me and a prominent Roma Novan businesswoman, a guest of the Prussian government. I haven’t committed any crime. I’m leaving now. If you lay a finger on me as I go out of this door, I’ll invoke the diplomatic treaty.’
After him staring at me, and me refusing to look away he said, ‘Very well, Aurelia. I can’t stop you.’ He stubbed out his cigarette. ‘But I’m warning you. If I find you one centimetre out of line with your diplomatic mission, I’ll have you arrested and PNG’d out on the first flight with an indefinite ban.’
IX
‘What a cock-up!’
Tertullius Plico’s face stared out of the video screen. I was in the legation secure comms room in a private booth with headphones on again, but I was sure everybody else could hear.
‘Well, I didn’t know my cousin was some kind of federal super-cop. Or that he was using his mother’s name.’
‘Ironic, isn’t it? An upright scion from a patriarchal Prussian, oh, sorry, Brandenburg, family following a matriarchal Roma Novan custom. Excuse me while I try and drag out some humour from it.’
‘One positive is that we know they’re really worried about Grosschenk,’ I said. ‘Perhaps they’re running some kind of operation?’
‘Hm. Leave it with me. I’ll look into it. In the meantime, do nothing but babysit your silver people. Out.’
*
‘Your poor face!’ Prisca stared at my forehead.
The legation medic had applied compresses and slathered it in cold gel which was taking the swelling down, but I’d need concealer for a week to disguise the round imprint of the barrel. Worse was the fuss around the attempted kidnapping. I’d typed up my report for the local security section despite the bandaging on my right hand covering the bruising. After a short debrief I thought that was the end of it. The trade delegation members had other plans. They couldn’t be dissuaded from making a presentation after dinner the next evening.
‘I thought it didn’t show,’ I whispered across the table to Prisca.
‘Well, I can see it.’
We were interrupted by the portly chairman of the Silver Guild standing and calling for quiet. He blathered on about heroic deeds, Roman strength and traditional virtues and decisive action for a good ten minutes. Prisca tapped my foot with hers under the table at the end of the speech and nodded towards him. As I walked across the dining room, I flushed at the applause. The chairman presented me with a scroll of thanks and an exquisite silver statue around ten centimetres high of Diana in full hunting dress, her arm pulling back a bow strung with a thread-like string. Reflections from the lights and chairman’s hand shone in distorted patterns from the swirls of the tiny athletic figure’s contours. What a beautiful gift for a few minutes’ action.
The normal babble resumed after I had escaped back to my table. I was raising my glass to salute Prisca and her colleagues when I saw the door at the back of the dining room open to reveal a Praetorian scanning the room. She stopped when she found me and frowned. Beside her, with a face like thunder, was Joachim.
‘Who in Hades let you in?’ I hissed at him, closing the dining room door behind me. The guard handed me a sealed envelope. She stood back but stayed within a few metres, watching Joachim.
‘Yeah, and I’m delighted to see you as well.’ He tipped his head to the right. ‘Read your message.’
I was about to retort, when I saw the ‘Flash – Eyes Only’ marking and cipher officer signature across the closed flap. I tore it open.
URGENT IMMEDIATE COOPERATION WITH GDKA/OK HUBER STOP CALL ME STAT T. PLICO
*
Tertullius Plico could be affable when he chose and now was one of those times. He apologised to Joachim for the secrecy, hoped I hadn’t upset him too much and smiled one of those man-to-man smug smiles. I kept my mouth in a straight line and made no comment.
Joachim and I crouched around the video screen as Plico updated us.
‘A new lead’s come up.’ He looked at Joachim direct. ‘Your director’s agreed this is the time to pool resources. What do you know about our silver industry?’
He shrugged. ‘Much as anybody else does. You don’t give out production figures, but I know silver’s strategically and economically important.’
An understatement. Without it, and its power to trade and bribe, the Roma Novan founders wouldn’t have survived past a few winters holed up in their mountains. Nor throughout the intervening fifteen hundred years.
‘The mines produce a very high-grade ore which commands a premium,’ Plico said. ‘And not only the physical product. Shares in the extraction and refining companies are sought after not only on our stock exchange but worldwide. Because of its importance, a copy of every share transfer is sent to the Oversight Commission at the Trade Ministry. Some eagle-eyed clerk stumbled upon a transfer that wasn’t.’
‘How?’ I asked.
‘She was doing a random control check at one of the companies on the past month’s transactions and found one that didn’t tally with her register. We’ve traced it to the Berlin area, to a holding company with its HQ in a garage block on the outskirts.’
I glanced across at Joachim, but his face was set. The skin was tight across his cheekbones and his eyes like slits in his face. No, he wasn’t happy at all.
‘As Aurelia’s in place, she’ll work with you as your consultant. Her trade mission’s finished tomorrow when the silver people get back on their plane.’
‘But—’ I started.
‘Yes?’ Plico interrupted.
‘You said I could go home after three weeks. I need to see my daughter.’
‘Call her on the videophone. Your country requires your service.’
*
What a bastard. I was tempted to call Justina, but that would have been childish. She would have backed Plico up and said service to the state overrode any personal wishes. Neither of us said a thing as I escorted Joachim back to the legation reception hall. Once through the security doors into the public area, the guard went back to join her colleague sitting at the small side desk. The main reception desk was deserted – it was nearly midnight. Bright street lights and orange floodlights on the ancient ramparts streamed through the floor-to-ceiling glass frontage. A dark car waited outside watched by two of our guards patrolling the driveway between the building and street.
AURELIA (Roma Nova Book 4) Page 7