“I hope you will not be angry at me for making you wait,” Giles entreated Jana. “You know I value our friendship highly.”
“You value whatever you can use,” Jana replied. “Have you had enough time to burn your records?”
Jana knew that he had. The gate was built not only to keep people out but to allow Giles time to dispose of anything he had that might incriminate him.
“I would think so.” Giles poured himself a cup of tea from an ornate china teapot. “Delicious tea. A new one I’m trying. It’s called ‘Rouge Metis.’ I ordered it from Mariage Frères in Paris. Let me pour you a cup.”
“Thank you, no.” She gestured at one of her men, handing the teapot to him. “Check this. Its design is unique. Identification should be easy.” Her officer took the pot away to check against his lists.
“What are they doing?”
“Searching for stolen goods.”
Giles sniffed the bouquet of the tea in his cup, displaying a lack of concern; then he took a sip of tea, his expression beatific. “Ah, wonderful. You are missing a truly sublime flavor. I suggest you call your man back so I can pour you a cup.”
“He’ll bring it back after he’s confirmed that it’s stolen.”
“No!” said Giles, an expression of simulated shock materializing on his face. “I can’t believe that. The seller assured me that it had been in his family for more than a hundred years.” He took another sip. “Awful, how people lie to you. You expect them to be honest, and then they cheat and defraud you.”
“Giles, we’ve compiled a list of every piece of antique furniture, silverware, china and bric-a-brac that has been stolen in Slovakia and every surrounding country, including Germany, for the last several years. We’re prepared to compare these lists with your inventory over the next few days until we’ve gone through every item.”
“A terribly hard task.”
“Very hard.”
“I wish I could help. Unfortunately, I’m an honest trader, so I couldn’t possibly be of assistance.”
The officer who had taken the teapot away came over, still carrying it, pointing to an item on one of his lists. Jana thanked him.
“You will never guess what my officer discovered. It’s Limoges, nineteenth century, stolen a year ago, along with other objects, from a Czech banker.”
One of the officers mishandled a piece of crystal. The glass shattered when it was tipped over.
“For goodness’ sake!” Giles was distressed. “Please tell your men to handle these items with care. These are precious objects. Precious. And they must be treated with reverence.”
“Are you a reverent man, Giles?”
He took on a self-important look. “Of course, Commander.”
The same officer came over a moment later, holding a large silver-and-gold chalice. He showed Jana another entry on the lists. Jana read it aloud to Giles.
“Gold and silver, inlaid with enamel. From the Franziskanerkirche in Salzburg. Stolen just six months ago from the Franciscans. A church. I thought you were a reverent man, Giles.”
“When it comes to beautiful things, I am a reverent man, Commander.”
“You’re going back to prison, Giles.”
“All antique dealers, at one time or another, mistakenly buy goods that have been stolen. That’s not enough reason to put them in prison.”
“Giles, we’ll find more. And after that, even more of them. You won’t be able to explain them all away, Giles, particularly since you’ve burned your records, which we’ll also mention to the procurator. Add in your prior conviction, and you’ll be away from these lovely objects that you worship for a long time.”
Giles put his tea cup down, pursing his lips. “You’re always willing to trade for information, Commander. We should really talk about that possibility.”
Jarov was one of the officers conducting the search. He placed an open box of shells on the table in front of her. Jana checked the contents. “A number of shells are gone.” She read the label on the side of the box. “.32 caliber. Not many of these made any more.” Jana thought of the old Webley that had been taken from Spis. Not a match for the shells. “If the shells are here, the right gun will be here. I want that weapon.”
Jarov went back to his search.
Jana fingered one of the shells.
“You killed a Slovak police officer, Giles.”
Giles looked at her through wide, innocent eyes, removing his glasses intensifying the effect.
“What Slovak officer?”
“In Geneva.”
“I’ve never been to Geneva.”
“A lie.”
“Never.”
“I thought we were friends, Giles. You always tell me how much you value my friendship.”
“You’ve always refused my offers of friendship, Commander.” His voice had a note of indignation. “Are you saying, at long last, that you want it?”
“It was always too late for that, Giles.”
“Then why bring it up?”
“Because you tried to kill me, and trying to kill a person you ask to be your friend is deceitful. Then again, being a criminal is deceitful itself, isn’t it? Giles, why did you fly down to Geneva to kill me?”
For the first time he looked dismayed. “How could you think I would do such a thing? You’re completely wrong.” He paused for effect. “This is a conversation I no longer want to be engaged in.”
“The police officer who was shot knew his killer. How did a Slovak officer in Switzerland recognize the man who killed him? The obvious answer is that the killer was a Slovak. The dead man’s partner was working with the killer. She refuses to name him. Even more proof that he was a Slovak.
“Whoever the killer was also had to know what I looked like. He was after me. The murderer could have been given a photograph, although photographs are not ideal for an assassin who is identifying his victim quickly. No, the killer knew me.”
Giles indignity turned to outrage.
“I cannot believe you are saying this. A man you knew tried to kill you. Therefore, because I know you, the killer has to be me? You have gone crazy. This is ridiculous. . . .” He sputtered to a stop. “No friend would ever say such things. We are no longer friends.”
“Giles, we’ve already agreed that we’re not friends.”
“I couldn’t concur more,” he huffed.
Jana decided to lay it all out for him.
“How does an organization become an organization? It has to be put together by a person with a certain expertise. How does one put together a smuggling organization? You get a man who knows about smuggling goods. They came to you and said put together our organization of smugglers. Working with international criminal groups is very lucrative. You accepted their offer. Except, soon afterward you went to prison on another charge. When you came out, they didn’t need you any more. Other people had taken your place.”
“You put me in prison.” Anger suffused Giles’s face. “How dared you put me in that terrible place?”
“You came out. You went back to business on your own. Then things happened to the criminal association you had set up. Merchandise was lost or stolen. The chiefs of the organization, who had previously paid you so much money, came back to you to try to find out why. You had very few answers. That was when the killing began in Europe.”
“I would never kill my people.”
“You didn’t have to. They did it all.”
“So, you see.” He brightened up. “I was not involved.”
“I showed you the diamond. You told them about my visit. They knew it was missing. You signed and sealed Klaudia Boryda’s death warrant. Then they told you to kill me. It was an opportunity to get back into their good graces. My trip to Switzerland was your perfect opportunity. Except that one of the cops following me saw you, and you had to shoot him.”
“I would never have done that. Shoot a police officer? I am a coward.”
“Cowards kill from ambush. The cover of the
crowd was ideal. It was a perfect moment for you. At least it was, until the police officer you killed recognized you.”
“Garbage, all garbage.”
Jarov returned. He had a small automatic in his hand. Jana glanced at it. She didn’t need to examine the weapon.
“The bullets we found will match the bullets in this gun, which will match the bullet used to kill our policeman. I knew you would still have it, Giles. It’s the nature of your business; it’s your nature. You’re a collector, Giles. You can’t throw anything away. It will be the death of you.”
Giles struck a confidential pose. “Let us examine reality a little closer, Commander. We still can do things for each other. I have information about this group of criminals. Not that I am admitting the killing, but I do have information. We can work things out so that there is a plus for you and a plus for me. Win-win, as they say.” His voice got quieter so he would not be heard by the other officers. “Simply lose the gun.”
“We’ll find the flight that you took to Geneva, Giles. We’ll talk to the airlines. There were only a few flights to Switzerland at the right time.”
He leaned back, away from her. “So, we don’t do business.” He shrugged. “The French will, the English will, the Americans will do business. I have things they’ll want. They’ll pressure the Swiss. I know the Swiss. They’re business people. They’ll understand the need to put business first. They’ll be forced to deal with me. I’ll walk away.”
“Perhaps. There is always a ‘perhaps’ in a criminal case.” She watched as Giles’s eyes searched her face. He was not at all confident. Jana felt better. “You killed someone in Switzerland, a bad place to kill anyone. To the Swiss, neatness comes first. Order is all-important. You disturbed their orderly existence, a horrible thing for them. They need to keep their lives tidy; they’re outraged by murder. You committed a cardinal sin in that little country. I think they won’t deal, Giles.”
He folded his arms across his chest.
“We’ll see.”
Jana contemplated the court processes and the needs of government agencies, which she knew so well. They all made compromises. She considered the compromise she was going to have to make later that afternoon.
“We’ll both see, Giles.”
There was no further need for Jana to be there. Her men would do their job.
She left without saying good-bye.
Chapter 52
Jana arranged to meet Seges and Guzak at Stefanik Airport, just to the side of the small terminal. Jana’s instructions to Seges had included explicit directions on cleaning up and dressing the man. The change in Guzak was extraordinary. His long, unkempt hair had been cut and styled, and his perpetual need for a shave had been reduced to a narrow moustache that added a touch of sensitivity to his perpetually sneering upper lip. When glasses had been added, along with the presentable white shirt, tie, and suit, which covered up his tattoos, and polished shoes, the man almost looked like your everyday businessman.
“Almost” was the key word.
If you looked through Guzak’s eyeglasses and into his eyes, you could see the intensity of the permanent rage barely contained by heavy lids. It was not important, Jana thought. His disguise was good enough to fool the casual observer, particularly one who had never before seen the man in the flesh. It would be good enough to deceive the woman. She wouldn’t be looking for him when they passed each other.
What a shame, Jana thought, that the greater good had to be served by letting this man go free. Jana could not trust the courts on this one. She tried to comfort herself with the ultimate purpose it would serve. Yes, the world would be a better place without her.
They could see the front entrance from where they sat. Fifteen minutes later, she arrived. She was let out of a car driven by Andreea, the woman who had given shelter to Guzak. Guzak emitted a grunt of anger. Jana touched his shoulder to remind him what he was there for.
There was no question who the woman moving into the terminal was: the woman from Vienna, the one who had held a gun on Jana while her partner beat a man to death. It was the same woman who had participated in the killing of both mother Guzak and the younger son. It was the same woman who had been involved in the killings in Hungary, the surviving assassin of the team responsible for deaths around the world. The woman thought she was leaving Slovakia without a care; that no one was even aware that she existed.
She had made an appalling error for a professional in her line of work.
The three waited until shortly before the plane was due to depart. Seges then went to the airline counter to verify that the woman had boarded the plane and that it would take off very soon. They walked to the boarding area.
“No question that you will be able to identify her?” Jana asked Guzak.
He nodded, impatient to get on with his task. “You’re sure she’s the one?” Guzak had to force the words out, barely controlling the violence inside himself. “She killed my mother?”
“And your brother.”
Guzak started for the boarding area gate. Jana blocked his way. For a moment, Jana thought he was going to attack her.
Jana faced him down. “Remember, not on the plane. You are to do nothing on the plane. Do you understand that?”
Guzak reluctantly nodded.
She handed him a slip of paper, the order from the court that Seges had obtained.
“The court has ordered you to leave Slovakia. If you come back, you’ll be coming back to prison. Do you understand that as well?”
“I understand.”
Seges handed the man his ticket.
“You’re free to go.”
The man immediately went to the boarding area, gave the purser his ticket, and boarded the plane. When it took off, Jana turned away. She hoped that Guzak would wait until the plane landed. It would be best for the other passengers.
Some things in life are necessary.
Dark Dreams Page 30