“Well, that’s lucky,” Miss Weninger said, responding to Lieutenant Eisert’s news about the embassy man.
“If you say,” the lieutenant said curtly.
Brian was grateful that Miss Weninger insisted the police contact the U.S. Embassy in Bern. The officer Brian had signaled in the alley began to question him at the scene, but became nervous the moment he realized Brian was a young American tourist. The officer radioed his superiors, and Brian watched a police team photograph the dead man until Lieutenant Eisert arrived. After quickly conferring with the lead officer on the scene, Lieutenant Eisert drove Brian a few blocks to the police station.
As soon as Lieutenant Eisert brought him to this little white room, Brian asked to speak to his parents, Miss Weninger, and the U.S. Embassy. “Your parents and your teacher, of course,” the lieutenant replied, “but there is no reason to involve your embassy. I must ask questions about how you came across this unfortunate man, certainly, but we accuse you of no crime and, in fact, it seems no crime had been committed.” That last statement surprised Brian, as he had told the police at the scene about the man with the pale blue eyes.
But Brian had not shared the dying man’s last words. Instead he told the police the man said a few things in German before he died. Withholding evidence left Brian feeling guilty and anxious—how many Swiss laws was he breaking? But the gray man had asked him to pass information to Jack Silver, and Brian didn’t have to have read a library of spy novels to know those final words might be vital to the American government. Before he could tell the police what the man said, he wanted to clear it with Jack Silver, which meant contacting the embassy. When Brian persisted about calling the embassy, Lieutenant Eisert discouraged the idea. “It would take at least three hours for your embassy to send someone from Bern.”
When Miss Weninger arrived, though, she also insisted the police contact the embassy, and Lieutenant Eisert relented once an adult made the request. With someone from the embassy en route, Miss Weninger moved to another subject.
“Have you identified the man…?” She hesitated. “The man Brian found?”
“Yes,” Lieutenant Eisert replied. “He was Heinrich Tetzel.” The lieutenant consulted the contents of the buff folder on the table before him. “A professor at the University of Neuchatel, in their physics department. We do not know why he was in Luzern.” Lieutenant Eisert closed the file and looked up at them. “And that is all we know so far.”
“What did he teach?” Brian asked.
Lieutenant Eisert furrowed his brow to show the question was a nuisance. But he reopened the file. “He did research in high-frequency radio waves. Microwaves.”
Someone knocked on the door. A uniformed officer entered and whispered into the lieutenant’s ear. “The man from your embassy has arrived,” Lieutenant Eisert said. He went quiet for a moment, then added, “This room, I am afraid, will be too cramped for another person. Officer Riemer will escort you to my office while I greet our new visitor. Shall we go?” Lieutenant Eisert’s excuse for moving the discussion to his office amused Brian. He knew the lieutenant did not want the man from the embassy to find two American citizens in an interrogation room.
Five minutes later Brian and Miss Weninger were sitting alone in Lieutenant Eisert’s office when the door opened and, to the lieutenant’s clear disapproval, the embassy man bustled past him without a formal announcement. He was tall—about six foot one—and burly. He looked as if he had been an athlete, probably a football player, who gave up on exercise years ago. His close-cropped hair was still more brown than gray, but not for much longer. Gray hairs only flecked his full mustache. The man’s walk was peculiar. He favored his right leg, but he moved with more of a bob than a limp. Brian had a vision of a pirate trying to compensate for a rolling deck. The man smiled warmly as he extended his hand to Miss Weninger.
“Jack Silver,” he said, and Brian sat bolt upright in his seat.
Jack Silver shook Miss Weninger’s hand and finished introducing himself. “Attaché to the trade office at our embassy in Bern. Miss Weninger, I presume.”
Brian couldn’t believe it, but his teacher blushed. “Call me Betty,” she said.
Silver turned to him. “And you must be Brian. How are you doing, son? Still shaken up?”
“I’m doing better,” Brian said. “Still a little stunned, I guess. It’s all been so weird.”
“I’ll bet,” Silver said. His tone was sympathetic, but Brian felt the man’s eyes measuring him. “You’re lucky you reached me when you did. I was in Lucerne for a lunch appointment and was just about to hop the train back to Bern. Have you talked to your parents?”
“Not yet,” Brian said. “I didn’t want to call them until I had a clearer idea of what was going on.”
“Gotcha. You didn’t want to say, ‘Hi Mom, I’m in the police station in Lucerne. I’ll call you back when I know more.’”
“That’s about it.”
“Well, don’t worry. I’m here to find out what’s going on. The lieutenant briefed me on the situation, and his department wants to resolve this as painlessly as we do. Right, lieutenant?”
“Of course.”
Silver positioned himself behind Brian and Miss Weninger. He placed his hands on Brian’s shoulders, as if laying claim to him. “So I would like to know,” he said to Lieutenant Eisert, “your intentions for this young citizen of the United States of America.”
Lieutenant Eisert swallowed. “While we are almost certain that Professor Tetzel died of a heart attack and that no crime has occurred, we would prefer that Mr. Parker remain in Switzerland and be available to answer more questions until an autopsy proves the professor indeed died of natural causes.”
Miss Weninger cut in. “How soon will that be? Our group is leaving Lucerne tomorrow morning for Germany.”
It was not what Lieutenant Eisert wanted to hear. “We will expedite this, of course, but the soonest an autopsy can be performed is three days from now.”
Everyone fell silent. So much for Munich, Brian thought bitterly. Maybe even Paris. Silver crossed his arms and leaned against the wall. Miss Weninger said, “Well, Brian, I guess I will have to make arrangements for the two of us to stay in Lucerne a few days longer while the rest of the group goes ahead.”
Silver pushed himself from the wall and straightened his blazer. He said, “Betty, I have an idea that I think will cause the least disruption, at least for your tour group. Brian can come with me and be the guest of the embassy for a few days until Lieutenant Eisert gives the word, and then I personally will deliver him to you whether your group is in Munich, Dresden, Berlin, or Pago Pago.” He turned to the lieutenant. “If the Luzerner Polizei finds that satisfactory.”
Lieutenant Eisert pursed his lips and nodded.
Miss Weninger asked, “What do you think, Brian?”
Brian barely knew what to think. Fifteen minutes ago he had no idea how to reach Jack Silver of the U.S. Embassy, and now the very man was appointing himself Brian’s guardian. Brian looked at Silver. Did he suspect Tetzel left a message for him? Brian watched for a hint of eagerness in Silver’s behavior, but his face betrayed only empathy. “It’s up to you, son,” he said.
Brian simply said, “OK.”
Miss Weninger nodded, but said nothing. She aimed her blue eyes at Silver, closed her mouth to a slit and almost imperceptibly puffed her upper lip. Brian perceived it. He knew the look from French class. This was how Miss Weninger collected her thoughts before scolding a student (usually Skip Lewis). In low, direct tones, she said. “All right, Mr. Silver. I want to see every scrap of documentation you have. I want to talk to your superior at the embassy, and then I want to talk to your superior’s superior. And Brian isn’t leaving my sight until every person in this room has talked to his parents and received their permission.”
“Very reasonable and very sensible,” Silver replied, bowing his head a half-inch. “It’s about time Brian talked to his parents anyway.” He looked at his watc
h. “One-thirty here; it should be six-thirty in the morning in Milwaukee.” He looked at Brian. “Would your parents be awake by now?”
“I think so,” Brian said. “Dad doesn’t leave for work until eight. They’re probably just getting up.”
Silver said, “Let’s give them a few more minutes to at least down a cup of coffee before Brian lays this news on them.”
“I’ll need my suitcase,” Brian said. “It’s back at the hotel.”
“Tim can bring it over,” Miss Weninger said.
“He didn’t go to Mount Pilatus?” Brian asked.
“When he heard what happened, he decided to stay behind in case you needed anything.”
“We can send a car for the boy,” Lieutenant Eisert said. “You may use my phone, Miss Weninger.”
While Miss Weninger called the hotel, Silver pulled a cell phone from his inside blazer pocket. “Time to tell your parents the score,” Silver said. He began punching numbers. “Milwaukee’s area code is four-one-four, isn’t it?” Brian nodded and Silver tapped the phone three more times before handing it to Brian. “You should finish it.”
Brian looked at the string of numbers Silver had entered into the Nokia and realized it was the international dialing code. He entered his home phone number and hit the green send button.
As Brian waited for the ring tone, Silver said, “Just remember that no matter how unusual this situation is, Brian, you’re safe and you’ve done nothing wrong.”
Except withhold information from the police, Brian thought.
His mother answered after the third ring. To Brian’s surprise, her voice was as clear as when he called for a ride home from the Mayfair Mall theater.
“Mom, it’s Brian. Tell Dad to pick up on the other phone.” As hard as he tried to sound calm, Brian heard his voice tremble.
“Brian, what is it? Are you in trouble? Where are you?”
“I’m in Lucerne. In Switzerland. I’m not in trouble, not really. It’s more like…once Dad gets on, I can explain.”
There was a click and then his father’s voice. “Brian, what’s the matter?”
Brian told them, pausing for his mother’s frequent interjections of “Oh my God!” When Brian finished, his mother wanted to talk to Miss Weninger and his father wanted to talk to Silver. Miss Weninger was using Lieutenant Eisert’s phone again—talking to the embassy, Brian gathered—so he gave the cell phone to Silver.
And then Brian zoned out. The reaction was a defense mechanism. He was surrounded by adults trying to figure out what to do with him, and they didn’t have much more of a clue than he did. Except for Silver, and Brian wouldn’t be able to read Silver until they were alone, if ever. He stared at a coffee mug on Lieutenant Eisert’s desk, wondering if the words on it were German for “World’s Greatest Dad,” and caught snatches of phone conversations. Miss Weninger, scrutinizing Silver as she spoke with the embassy, saying, “Please describe him for me.” And Silver telling his father, “There’s no need for you to fly over here, Mr. Parker.” Brian cupped his hands around his elbows and started to rub his forearms as if to warm himself. For the first time since cradling Tetzel’s dead body, he felt his bones turn cold. His mother’s voice on the phone had been filled with worry, and Brian began to wonder if he should be scared.
Silver snapped him out of it. “Brian,” he said, holding out his cell phone. “Your mother wants to talk to you.”
Her voice had calmed. “So how are you feeling, Brian? Really?”
“I dunno. Weird.”
“I wish I could be there with you, but your father and I are convinced you will be safe at the embassy with Mr. Silver. Just look at this as an opportunity to get to know Switzerland a little better, and do whatever Mr. Silver tells you, all right?”
“All right.”
“We love you, Brian.”
Brian turned his back to the others and lowered his voice. “I love you, too, Mom.”
He handed the phone to Silver, who said, “Looks like we’re all set.” As Silver put the phone away, Brian noticed something unusual. It probably was a sleight of hand Silver had done hundreds of times before, something so quick Brian doubted Lieutenant Eisert or Miss Weninger caught it, but as Silver had returned the cell phone to his pocket he also removed the battery.
Three minutes later Brian stood in the hall holding his suitcase and enjoying a quick reunion with Tim Gifford.
“Dude, you should have gone to Mount Pilatus,” Brian said. “I feel awful you stayed behind just to deliver my suitcase.”
“Are you kidding? As soon as we heard you were at the police station, you became a sensation. When they get back, the girls will be swarming over me for information!”
Tim grinned, and Brian snapped at him: “If I had known it would improve your chances with Stephanie Tompkins, I would have stumbled across a dead body sooner.”
Tim’s smile disappeared. “God, I’m sorry, Brian. Was it really creepy? Are you OK?”
“People keep asking that question, and I don’t know the answer yet. It’s been a strange couple of hours.” Brian decided not to tell his friend that Tetzel was the man he had identified as a spy in the Mühlenplatz. He didn’t want Tim blabbing that coincidence to the group.
“It sucks I won’t be with you guys for a few days,” Brian said, “but I hope I’ll be back by the time you reach Frankfurt.”
They looked through the window into Lieutenant Eisert’s office and saw Silver stand to shake the lieutenant’s hand. Brian would be leaving soon.
“What about this guy from the embassy?” Tim asked. “This guy, Silver. You think he’s a spy?”
“No,” Brian lied.
CHAPTER 3--TAIL
“The train station is only a few blocks from here,” Silver said. “Do you want to walk or hop on a tram?”
After two hours inside the police station, Brian didn’t want to sit inside a crowded tram for even a few minutes. “I’d rather walk if doesn’t bother you.”
“If you’re worried about my leg, don’t,” Silver said. “It’s not as bad as it looks.” They had traveled a block since leaving the police station, giving Brian a better sense of Silver’s gait. He would take a regular step with his right leg, then swing his left leg around in a stiff but quick half-circle. He walked at a normal pace, but it did not appear Silver could bend his left knee.
“All right,” Brian said, “but I have to tell you something right now because you’ll probably want to take me straight back to Lieutenant Eisert as soon as you hear it.”
Silver’s eyes sharpened. “Eisert believed you were holding something back. What is it?”
“Tetzel did say something to me, in English, before he died. He wanted me to pass a message to you. He told me your name.”
Silver nodded, showing no surprise. “Tell me on the train. We’ll have privacy there.”
“But won’t the police want to know—”
Silver cut him off. “Kid, the police will want to say Tetzel died of natural causes and get you out of the country as soon as their laws and Lieutenant Eisert’s sense of duty allow it. They don’t want this turning into an international incident.”
“I doubt I could cause an international incident,” Brian said.
“Don’t underestimate yourself.”
Silver turned east at the corner. Brian noted the name of the street was Pilatusstrasse, a reminder of the mountaintop he was missing. They were in Lucerne’s commercial district. The quaint medieval décor the tour guide had showed off yesterday was absent. The buildings were modern, or would have been in the 1970s. Pilatusstrasse was a thoroughfare of five-star hotels, art galleries, and furriers encased in concrete and glass.
Brian paused at a jewelry store and, pretending to look at the Rolex and Tissot displays, used the shop’s window as a mirror to see whether anyone behind them stopped when he did. Brian figured Lieutenant Eisert would have someone watching them, but he didn’t see anyone suspicious. Brian had to admit to himself he wasn’t su
re what behavior would look suspicious. When Brian moved from the shop, he found Silver appraising him with amusement.
“Were you checking for tails?”
Brian stammered, “I was wondering … well, if I was Lieutenant Eisert, I would have sent someone to follow us.”
“He did,” Silver said. “Next time you window shop, look across the street about a half a block back for a guy wearing a gold windbreaker.”
Brian could resist no longer. “So are you Tetzel’s case officer?”
“Case officer?” Silver was incredulous. “A lot of people over the years have asked if I were a CIA agent, but you’re the first to ask if I were a CIA case officer.”
“But you couldn’t be an agent,” Brian said. “Not if you’re connected to the embassy. Agents are the foreign nationals that case officers recruit to reveal secrets about their country.” Brian felt like a geek for saying “foreign nationals.” He added hastily, “The Military Channel had a show on just last week called Modern Spies. The show said how CIA operatives were instructed to remove the batteries from their cell phones so their movements couldn’t be traced by the phone company’s satellite.”
“What sharp little eyes you have,” Silver said. “I hope the show also explained that all U.S. Embassy personnel receive extensive security training these days, so just because I can spot a tail and I take the battery out of my cell phone doesn’t mean I’m CIA.”
Silver’s denial was convincing and smooth. Brian didn’t trust it.
A Don’t Walk signal stopped them at the next intersection. Brian looked down the cross street and saw the bookstore that had been his destination that morning, a million years ago. He sighed.
“What’s up?” Silver asked.
Brian pointed at the bookstore. “That’s where I was going … before I found Tetzel.”
The Boy Who Knew Too Much Page 2