by Kim Baldwin
“I’ll think about that if it becomes absolutely necessary,” Kris promised. “But not now. I can’t deal with another suicide attempt on top of everything else, and it sounds as though she’s in that frame of mind again. I wish she’d talk about it instead of holding everything in. I don’t know what’s made her this way.”
“There’s no need to make a decision now,” Hofman said. “Her care is paid for through the end of next month.”
“If the villa sells quickly, that should resolve that problem. The house certainly looks like it will take a lot longer. Speaking of which, I really should be annoyed with you for hiring that American. She’s…irritating beyond belief. So smug.”
Allegro bit back a smile.
“She’s definitely a confident woman,” Hofman said. “How is she handling the work?”
There was a pause. “I guess I have no complaints there. She did work very hard yesterday, and was at it again early this morning. Though I suspect she might have been pounding on the ceiling at nine a.m. because she knew I was still asleep right above her.”
Hofman laughed. “It’s saving you a lot of money having her work for room and board. I find her quite charming.”
“So you said.” Kris sounded dubious.
“Kris, have you given any thought about what you’re going to do once both places have sold?” Hofman asked. “I know the difficulties you’re facing, and you’re welcome to stay here, of course. I have a spare room upstairs if you need it.”
“That’s very generous, Uncle. I hope it doesn’t come to that, but I’ll keep your offer in mind. Let’s hope the sale of the house can solve most of my problems. Then I can get an apartment nearby and visit you instead.”
“Either would suit me. Will you live in Amsterdam, then?” The pleasure in Hofman’s voice was unmistakable, revealing the affection he had for Kris.
“I’m not tied to anywhere. As long as I have my computer, I can do my job. At least if I’m here I can visit you, and keep an eye on Mother.”
“I wish I could do more to help,” Hofman said. “I know I told you I’d be out to the estate to look in on things, but my current case will prevent that for a few more days. Is there anything you need?”
“No, it’s fine.” Kris was standing close enough to the armoire that Allegro could smell the lavender of her perfume. “Although I did want you to show me how to get to the vault. I know you explained it in your phone call, but I’ve been so preoccupied with the debts that I’m afraid that part is just a blur.”
“You know where the room itself is, correct?”
“Yes,” Kris replied. “Father told me the history of the mansion, and pointed out the wall around the priest’s room. But I thought the only entrance had been sealed up years ago.”
Priest’s room? Why hadn’t she thought of it earlier? The estate had been built in the seventeenth century, during the Reformation, when Catholics throughout the Netherlands had to worship in secret. Some of the so-called “hidden churches” built within homes were still preserved in Amsterdam, drawing steady streams of tourists. Most of them had a priest’s room, a small alcove with a secret door, where the priest could be hidden if authorities discovered the church.
“The room was originally accessed through a trapdoor to the cellar,” Hofman said. “Jan sealed it up. I imagine he must have been afraid if anyone learned of the diamond, the vault would be too easy to find, so he reconstructed, probably while you and your mother were in Venice. Very clever of him to put the new entrance through the garden.”
The garden. Allegro would have found it eventually, but she was thankful she wouldn’t have to waste time ruling out all the alternatives now.
“I spent so many years playing out there, getting into everything,” Kris said. “It’s just amazing I never stumbled across it. Or that the gardener didn’t, either.”
“That was the general idea,” Hofman said. “Hiding in plain sight.”
Kris said something Allegro couldn’t make out, then added, “I must run. Thanks for everything, Uncle.”
“I’ll walk you down. I need to stop by the night store for a few things.”
Allegro heard Hofman’s chair squeak, followed by the sound of the door closing. She went to the window and discreetly watched them leave. They stood talking for a few minutes in the dim light provided by a street lamp several yards away. There were a few pedestrians out on the street, most moving with the sense of purpose people had at night when they were on their way to meet someone or heading home after dinner.
Allegro noticed the one person standing completely still, a dark figure in the shadow of a tree not far from Hofman’s building. From the way his attention was fixated on Kris and her uncle, he might as well be holding up a LOOK AT ME sign. Allegro had worked on surveillance ops often enough to know he wasn’t some tourist or a local out having a smoke or enjoying the view. Trying to measure his intentions, she watched him closely as Hofman and Kris embraced and kissed good-bye. As they set off in opposite directions, both on foot, the man watching them lifted the collar of his beige trench coat and glanced around before walking quickly in Kris’s direction. Allegro couldn’t get a clear enough view of his face to know if he was the man she’d seen at the mansion the day before, but he sure seemed to be stalking Kris. She hurriedly checked her Walther P99 and left the building.
Could this be the same man she’d seen running from the estate? If so, he knew a lot about Kris and where to find her. She had nothing to base any assumptions on, but her gut told her this guy was either after the diamond, or after Kris as a way to get to the stone. Would he go so far as trying to kidnap her?
*
Kris tucked her scarf into her long woolen coat in an effort to ward off the February evening chill, and headed toward the Rembrandtplein, a small green space surrounded by cafes, bars, and nightclubs, and one of the city’s most popular destinations after dark. She’d chosen to walk, knowing she’d have trouble finding a parking spot close by, and she also wanted to clear her head. Hans Hofman’s offer of a place to stay had driven home how drastically her life was changing. The renovations would consume the last of her savings. If she couldn’t sell her houses quickly, she’d soon be without funds and totally reliant on her Web design business. She could probably support herself in a modest style, but she would not be able to pay for her mother’s expensive care.
The prospect of losing her life of privilege wasn’t the devastating blow it might be to another in her position. The trappings of wealth and title had only drawn the wrong sort of attention, especially from women whose motivation for getting close to her was all about what she could do for them. A simpler existence had a certain appeal. No more gala parties and keeping up appearances. No more living up to anyone’s idea of how she should behave. Change was good, she told herself, but she still felt overwhelmed and restless. An evening of blowing off steam with a friend was long overdue.
She’d agreed to meet Ilse Linssen at De Kroon, a second-floor café bar in a landmark white brick building more than a century old. The front dining room, where she’d reserved a table, was a glass-enclosed terrace that allowed patrons a splendid view of the busy square below. Several stairs led up to the bar, a spacious lounge area filled with comfy leather chairs and couches. The décor was eclectic: large screen hi-def monitors covered one wall, all airing the same nature video. Around the other walls an array of taxidermy trophy heads vied with busts of famous philosophers.
Kris glanced around, surprised at how busy the place was for a Monday night. The reason became clear at once. Most of the patrons were forty- and fifty-something Italians, probably all from the same tour bus. Ilse was waiting for her at their table. She got to feet and smiled as Kris approached.
“You look wonderful,” Kris said, embracing her friend and one-time lover. Ilse hadn’t changed much in the nine months since they’d last seen each other. She was model thin and beautiful, chic in a tan cashmere turtleneck and chocolate leather skirt with matching boot
s. Only her platinum hair was different. She’d cut it several inches shorter, to her jawline, and the style suited her.
Ilse stepped back to arm’s length and studied Kris’s face. “Everything all right?”
“Is it that obvious?”
“Sit.” Ilse let her go. “And tell me all about it.”
“Wine first. And some pleasant conversation before I unload all my troubles.” Kris got the waiter’s attention and ordered a bottle of Chardonnay. “Tell me what you’ve been up to since your last e-mail. Great new look, by the way.”
She listened to Ilse’s latest gossip as they sipped their wine and tried to forget for a while how surreal her life had become. Halfway into her second glass, she realized she’d barely listened to a word. Deciding she needed to splash her face, she excused herself and cut through the lounge toward the ladies room, ignoring the usual glances, with one exception, a man watching her from one of the wing chairs. He was alone and not unattractive, with medium brown hair. Probably not Dutch, and not one of the Italians either. But though his gaze was fixed on her, he didn’t smile. When she returned to her table, he was still there and still watching her every move.
“I hate the way some people stare.” Kris dropped into her seat. “At least do it discreetly, if there’s no encouragement.”
“Male or female?” Ilse inquired, looking toward the rest rooms.
“Does it matter?” Kris waved a hand absently in the man’s direction. “It’s the trend that’s irritating.”
“You sound stressed,” Ilse said sympathetically.
“The last few weeks have been a challenge, to say the least.” Kris poured herself another glass of wine. “It was very sweet of you to send flowers when Father died. And I got your phone messages. But I wasn’t up to talking to anyone.”
“I understand,” Ilse said.
Kris gazed out the window. A tram braked abruptly below, clanging its horn and narrowly missing a trio of tourists on bright red rental bikes. “My father and I were never close, but I’m only beginning to realize how little I really knew the man. He had a lot of secrets.”
“Everyone does. That’s human nature.”
“No doubt. But I don’t think everyone leaves a massive amount of debt for their families to deal with.”
Ilse’s eyes widened in surprise and she frowned. “I’m sorry. Is it very serious?”
“Well, the villa’s already up for sale, and the estate soon will be. And even that may not be enough.” A pained laugh escaped Kris. “On the plus side, I’ll probably be getting an apartment here in the city, so we can have a cup of coffee now and then.”
“Is there anything I can do?”
“You’re here, listening. That helps.”
Kris felt a pang of regret that she hadn’t been open to a real relationship with Ilse during their brief affair four years earlier. But she was already disillusioned with women by then and had kept Ilse at a distance. Looking back, she could see that she hadn’t questioned her own behavior at all. She’d rejected Ilse’s attempts at greater intimacy automatically, and Ilse had been hurt, perhaps even insulted, by her mistrust. Ilse had long since moved on to someone more willing to open her heart, and Kris had continued having brief, meaningless affairs with women who would cause no ripples in her life. This predictable course had kept her sailing in quiet waters, and even though she missed excitement and passion, she’d learned to be content with anything as long as it lacked drama. Recently however, she’d started to realize she’d mistaken predictability for reliability, and tediousness for peace. She now saw that she’d deluded herself into believing she felt contentment when, in fact, she’d simply settled for a poor imitation of life.
“I’m serious,” Ilse reiterated. “If I can help…”
“This is something I have to handle on my own. Not like that’s anything new.”
Ilse leaned closer and placed a hand on the side of Kris’s face. “You don’t have to pretend with me, you know. I can see how upset you are.”
The gentle touch was all it took. Tears sprang to Kris’s eyes and the dam of frustration that had been building inside of her threatened to burst. Unable to conceal her bitterness, she said, “I’m just so fucking tired of playing the countess and doing what’s expected of me, Ilse, I want to scream.”
Chapter Nine
From her vantage point in the adjoining lounge area, half hidden behind a pillar, Allegro watched Kris’s companion reach out to touch her cheek. The intimate gesture sent an unfamiliar twinge of something twisting through her stomach. Jealousy? Envy? The turmoil in Kris’s expression was clear. Allegro wished she were near enough to hear what the two women were talking about. But as intent as she was on trying to read their interaction, she was equally focused on the man who had followed Kris here. Sitting in a wing chair not far away, he hadn’t taken his eyes off her in the last hour. Thankfully, he seemed to be oblivious to everything else, including the fact that he was also being watched.
Allegro studied his face in profile. He was forty or so, with medium brown hair, thin lips, and a slight crook in his nose. Though she still couldn’t be absolutely certain it was the guy she’d seen at the estate, he was similar enough in height and build that it was a pretty safe bet. He was sitting with one leg crossed over the other, so Allegro was able to get a good look at the bottom of his boot. The marking on the heel resembled those left in the mud. What was he planning? And was he working alone?
She glanced back toward Kris. From her restless body language, and the abandon with which she was drinking her wine, Allegro could see something was definitely not right with her. She was upset and preoccupied, her usual poise absent. With her guard down she reminded Allegro of a trapped animal or child, helpless to deal with a situation she had little control over. She was vulnerable in her condition, somewhat intoxicated and apparently emotional. It wouldn’t be possible to return to Hofman’s office tonight. Allegro would have to photograph the last few pages of the diary at another time. Her priority had to be looking out for Kris, and hopefully discovering the identity and purpose of the man following her.
She realized that her decision to make Kris’s safety her first concern was a departure from her normal procedure. Ordinarily, she could approach her missions with a detachment that allowed her to focus solely on her objective. But on occasion, a protective instinct she could not ignore made her stray from the cold calculations that usually governed her work. Over the years, she’d seen too many innocents suffer the repercussions of other people’s choices, and she’d always felt the need to comfort them, to offer what little she could to make their situation bearable. Something about Kris spoke to that part of her. Allegro already cared more for her than she should. Operatives were taught to pay attention to the warning signs of attachment, emotion that could cloud judgment and lead to self-serving rationalizations for dubious decisions. It was her job to ensure nothing happened to Kris, at least until the diamond was secured, but the truth was, she would protect her, regardless.
When the two women began putting on their coats to leave, Allegro hurriedly donned her jacket and left ahead of them, ducking into the shadowed doorway of a closed flower shop halfway down the block. Kris and her friend walked away from the café arm in arm, still deep in conversation. The man from the lounge emerged soon after and followed them, the collar of his beige trench coat pulled up to partially obscure his face. Allegro tracked them from a distance.
After a couple of blocks, the women paused so Kris’s date could unlock a bicycle from a crowded rack. They kissed good-bye and Kris strolled toward a tram stop while her companion pedaled off in the opposite direction. Allegro kept to the shadows, watching the man narrow his distance from Kris, now that she was alone. The street they were on was far enough away from the bustling nightlife around the Rembrandtplein that there were few other pedestrians. Kris reached the shelter of the tram stop and stood waiting, her arms folded against the cold. The man paused a short distance away and lit a cigarette
, but tossed it away after only a couple of puffs when the tram came into view.
Allegro’s alarm grew when she realized the tram was empty except for the driver. She broke into a run as Kris pulled a ticket from her pocket and pushed the button to open the door at the back, while the man in the trench coat hurried to the open door in front to pay the driver. Allegro’s timing had to be perfect, and it was. She reached in and snatched Kris off the tram just as she was mounting the steps. The doors closed, trapping the man inside, and the tram started on its way.
Kris whirled around angrily. A shocked look crossed her face when she recognized Allegro. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”
“Hi to you, too,” Allegro said with a broad smile.
Suspicion hardened Kris’s features. “Did you follow me?”
As if the accusation made no sense to her, Allegro frowned in a show of bewilderment. “Why would I follow you?”
As she’d hoped, the challenge made Kris pause to examine her own reactions. Even in the hazy lamp light, her reddening cheeks were obvious. She responded, “You tell me,” but self-doubt made the question hesitant.
Allegro gave a flippant shrug. “Because you’re gorgeous?”
Her sarcasm seemed to hit home. Kris blinked as though trying hard to keep her eyes focused. “Very funny.”
“Seriously, I didn’t think I was supposed to work day and night,” Allegro teased. “I thought I’d check out the city by night sort of thing. Anyway, I saw you heading for the tram and I figured I’d offer you a ride back home.”
“First of all, it’s not home. not for me and definitely not for you. And secondly, who says I have plans to go back there tonight?”
Allegro kept one eye on the street. No doubt the man in the beige coat would get off at the next stop, which wasn’t far. She had to stay with Kris until she was safe. “You told me you wouldn’t be back until very late. I guess I took that to mean you weren’t going to be away overnight.” Trying to prove she had no agenda, she added, “Look, I don’t know anyone here and when I saw you I was happy, that’s all. It seemed only right to offer you a ride back to the estate. My mistake. I didn’t mean to piss you off.”