Sunstroke

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Sunstroke Page 29

by Madge Swindells


  ‘I’m going to launch the conference with a cocktail party, to be held at a prominent hotel in Riga. Once Wolf has been arrested, we’ll fetch Nicky from his home and fly him to Scotland. Make sure to bring the documents you need proving you have sole custody. You have them, I assume.’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘End of story. Sound good to you?’

  ‘Yes. And Wolf? What will happen to him?’

  ‘I guess Interpol, the CIA, the Mossad and the South Africans will fight over him. Eventually he’ll stand trial in the States. If he lives that long. He’ll be torn apart, I should imagine. Listen to me, Nina. Don’t go back to the Diamond Circle. Just disappear. I’ll find you a safe house until the conference. I’ll look after you. You need a new name, and a new country. How about Mrs Bernstein?’

  I laughed, then wished I hadn’t. I pulled my scarf around my throat and croaked, ‘What a reason to marry. You make it sound very matter-of-fact. Maybe I’ll hold out for the candlelit dinner and a ring.’

  ‘You’re prevaricating.’

  ‘David, listen to me. If you still want to marry me after I’ve found Nicky and taken him home, then my answer will be yes. I love you and I long for us to be married, but I’m not sure if you’ll still feel the same way about me. I would like you to propose to me one day, but not yet.’ I reached out and squeezed his hand.

  As we said goodbye, I tried to think of something significant to say – a summing-up. We had come so far together, but I knew I had to go the rest of the way alone. I would decide what was best for my child. That was my God-given right.

  Chapter 67

  The call from Heinrich Haape, owner of the German detective agency came three days later, sooner than I had anticipated.

  ‘We have the information you want,’ the detective told me in a dry, expressionless voice. ‘It will cost a little more than originally anticipated and it will be delivered as arranged. Payment on delivery in cash, in dollars, is preferred. Can you meet our representative at the Cafe Vienna, which is quite near the Brussels Diamond Circle, at eleven a.m. this morning? Would that be convenient?’

  I tried to curb my excitement. ‘Quite convenient, thank you. I’ll be there.’

  Just before eleven, I wandered into the Cafe Vienna and searched around for a table. The place was full, but shortly afterwards a table became vacant. I asked the manageress to send my guest to my table and ordered coffee while I waited.

  Shortly afterwards, a tall, seedy-looking man, with balding gingerish hair, large brown sun marks on his skin and pale grey eyes blinking myopically through thick lenses, made his way towards me. He bowed, clicked his heels and held out his hand to shake mine. Clearly, he was playing safe.

  ‘Ah, hello, Miss Ogilvie. Nice to meet you at last.’

  His voice was familiar and I realized that I had been speaking to this same person on the telephone. Obviously a one-man show.

  ‘You are Heinrich Haape?’

  ‘Yes, indeed. I hope I’m on time.’ He turned to the waitress, who was hovering with the cake trolley.

  ‘Ah, cake. Black Forest, yes, that one, thanks.’

  I ordered the same with coffee and tried to be polite while he discussed the weather, the late trains and our warming planet for a full five minutes.

  ‘You have some information for me,’ I cut in as soon as I could. I could hardly take my eyes off his briefcase. I longed to grab it and dive into it.

  ‘There was a matter of dollars we mentioned, if you remember. You said you would pay me on delivery.’

  ‘Of course.’

  ‘You have the cash with you?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Well, then…’ His analytical blue eyes glittered with impatience.

  ‘You haven’t yet given me the information. But never mind. You were highly recommended. Here’s half.’ I passed over an envelope and almost died of tension as he slowly counted the notes.

  ‘I’m sorry that the assignment cost a little more than our original estimate.’

  ‘It doesn’t matter.’

  ‘You see, I was afraid you might need photographs for identification purposes. I obtained two, as well as some family details.’

  He’d read my anxiety. Damn! ‘Can we please get on with it?’

  ‘I’m so afraid that it might be the wrong person.’

  I felt shocked. ‘How do you know?’

  ‘I have worked with your father on and off for years.’

  He passed over the papers, giving full details of the sale of sixty thousand hectares of farming land, excluding all mineral rights, to Piotra Gregov. And the seller was: Baron Marius Wolfgang Tyler. And there was his address, written in Latvian, German and English. I recognized the word ‘Morgendauw’ in all three versions.

  At last! Thank you, God! At last! My breast was heaving with the force of my hammering heart.

  The detective handed me two photographs. One was of Wolf and Nicky trailing over a field towards a dam, carrying fishing rods and a bucket. The next was of Nicky sitting on Wolf’s shoulders, his arms wound around his father’s neck as they left the lake. Wolf was holding both rods and the bucket, which looked heavy now.

  ‘Madame, are you all right?’

  ‘I’m fine,’ I gasped. ‘Just lovely.’ My son had not been abandoned in an orphanage, or hurt, or simply lost. He was happy and looked after. At that moment, nothing else counted.

  ‘And the rest of the money?’

  I would have paid him anything.

  ‘Have it all.’ I thrust a packet of dollars into his hands. It was double what he had wanted, for I had anticipated further demands.

  ‘Madame, I asked around and learned that Baron Marius is a highly regarded citizen of Riga. He’s on the city council, chairs many charities, that sort of thing. He’s known as a devoted father to his little boy, Nicholas. The story is that he lost his wife in Europe when the boy was only two.’

  Suddenly his hand stretched out and covered mine. He said, ‘I, too, have been looking for Nicky for two years. I run the missing person’s agency your father contacted to try to find his grandson. I am so sorry that I failed you before. It wasn’t for the want of trying, I assure you.’

  I hung on to my cool. ‘Thank you,’ I managed to stammer. ‘Good day to you.’ Clutching my bag, I stumbled to the ladies’ room.

  I had not yet shed any tears, I had been so strong. Not when Nicky was kidnapped, nor when I was arrested. Even the shock treatment had provoked screams, never tears, but now I could feel them coming. The dam wall had broken and a river of tears was flooding my soul. I sat on a chair and buried my face in my hands. Some time later, I realized that a woman was bending over me. I don’t know who she was. She went away and the waitress came in with a cup of coffee and two aspirins, which I refused. She left, too.

  Remembering belatedly that Ogilvies never cry, I washed my face.

  ‘These aren’t tears,’ I muttered aloud. ‘Not real tears. How could they be when I’m so happy? It’s salt water to flush out my wounds.’

  And now what? I called a taxi to take me to my hotel where I e-mailed Father. Then I returned to the Diamond Circle. I continued with my work. I did not want Sergei to notice that I was changed in any way.

  Chapter 68

  On the night before I left for Riga, I invited Sergei to dinner. I chose a restaurant specializing in gypsy cuisine and music, for I wanted to talk to him in the least likely place Borovoi would come to.

  ‘Nininchka, you have revealed a hidden side to your character. So you’re a romantic under your stern exterior. A candlelit dinner and gypsy music! What a surprise! I would never have guessed you cared from the way you have been treating me.’

  He reached for my hand, and as his strong, but shapely fingers crept over my palm, swords of pleasure pierced my stomach. I knew now that I loved David, truly, irrevocably and forever, which had nothing at all to do with the fact that Sergei was the sexiest man I’d ever met. I would never again make love to him, and perhaps that
made him all the more desirable. Or had we just become good friends over the past months?

  Sergei’s knowledge of antique jewellery was immense. He kept me enthralled with stories of the intrigue that had dogged the history of each famous piece.

  I kept my story until we were sipping liqueur brandy by the fire.

  ‘I’ll never forget the time we made love, Sergei.’

  ‘The first and last time, cruel Nininchka.’

  ‘And I remember how you told me that Wolf and you had been in a camp together as children. I couldn’t help remembering that Wolf would hardly ruin a boyhood friend.’

  ‘Was he loyal to you, Nininchka?’

  ‘In a way. I’m still alive.’

  Sergei threw back his head and roared with laughter. ‘D’you expect so little from your men that to stay alive proves their loyalty?’

  Damn! Not a very good beginning. I couldn’t help laughing with him.

  ‘The point is, stealing the diamonds from you would be totally out of character for Wolf,’ I persisted.

  Now I had his interest. His expression of benign affection slipped off his face in a split second.

  ‘What’s going on, Nina? Come to the point. Have you been seeing Wolf?’

  ‘No. It’s just that I knew him well once. Wolf would steal from the government, but would he steal from you?’

  ‘He stole from you, didn’t he?’

  I sighed. ‘Yes.’

  I flinched as I gazed into those implacable eyes. The light, the laughter and the friendliness had been entirely extinguished.

  ‘Don’t look at me like that, please. Trust me, Sergei. 100 million dollars’ worth of uncut diamonds have been delivered to the De Witt’s Diamond Centre. Here’s the receipt for them, the valuation certificates, the quotations for the work to be done, and so on. You’ll note that the owner had to barter part of the consignment to cover the cost of cutting and polishing the rest.’

  ‘And the owner is?’ he whispered, reaching for the rest of the papers.

  ‘BB Investments. It’s a company registered in Prague. There are only two directors, Colonel Boris Borovoi, hence the initials, and his wife, Zelda. There you are. I photocopied the documents in their offices. Keep it all. It’s easy to get into the building. Find out for yourself. I’m merely trying to warn you of the danger you’re in, just as you did me.’

  ‘What danger?’

  ‘Borovoi set you up, lost your fortune, stole from you, ruined your reputation, drove you into liquidation. Why shouldn’t he kill you, too, if he suspects that you may find out about him?’

  ‘Why are you telling me this, Nina?’

  ‘I care for you. Surely you know that.’

  He frowned and stood up, as if he could no longer bear to keep still.

  ‘As they say in the West, you could have fooled me. No, that is not why you are telling me, Nininchka. You have some other reason. I do not know what it is, but I believe that this evidence is real. I’ll check out everything and then I’ll come back to you. Maybe to love you. We’ll see.’

  He left abruptly. I finished my liqueur, paid the bill and drove home.

  *

  Once safely back in my apartment I sent Father the latest news then e-mailed Colonel Boris Borovoi.

  Good news, Boris. David Bernstein, together with leading American bankers and delegates from the IMF will be holding a conference in Riga, Latvia, starting 1 November 1994, to facilitate loans and strengthen ties between the Baltic states and the West. The idea is to push home democracy with low-interest loans. Delegates will give details of their estates, and I will be there hidden away to identify Wolf Moller. With luck we’ll see him and learn his true identity. It is vital that you keep in touch with me so that Moller is sent to Russia to stand trial. I am afraid that he may be too leniently treated in the West and that my child might slip through my fingers if Moller is given enough time to send Nicky away. Let me know where you will be staying in Riga, so I can make arrangements for you to gain access to the conference.

  I sent the message and switched off, but remained gazing at the black screen, plotting, just as I used to plot my chess games, trying to keep several moves ahead, anticipating all possible variables of my opponents’ reactions. I had to have any number of retaliatory moves and I badly needed someone to second-guess me. If only I could tell Father, but that was impossible. This was something I had to do alone.

  Chapter 69

  As the opening day of the bankers’ conference, dawned, I arrived in Riga to find that David had booked a suite for us, including an extra bedroom for Nicky. He was being very positive about his plan.

  The venue for the conference was the Hotel de Rome, Kalku Street, in Riga. David had been here for two weeks, coping with applications and finalizing details. He had already called in the builders to erect a cubicle with one-way glass behind the reception desk from where I could watch the delegates filling in their questionnaires and filing their requests for financial backing.

  There were twelve men and women in David’s team and at nine precisely we opened our doors to receive a steady stream of visitors. From then on, everyone was kept busy answering questions, providing translations and helping applicants to fill in their forms.

  At noon the rain began, a steady downpour that made the foyer dark. It was freezing in my cubicle. So far, twenty-seven families had put in their claims. According to David, most would benefit from loans to push their ideas.

  I was doodling on my pad, thinking about Nicky and the pictures the detective had given me, when I suddenly had the strangest feeling that Wolf was near. I looked up curiously. No one was in the foyer, but moments later he strode in, crossing the marble floor on rubber-soled shoes that squished with water.

  The thought that flashed through my mind was that I loved him. The love seemed to rise up from the depths of my being, as unexpected and dangerous as a tidal wave threatening my life. I pulled myself together fast. I did not love him. It was merely the memories that the sight of him had resurrected. That, plus the knowledge that he had guarded Nicky so well.

  As I watched him, the questions that had been walled up for years almost erupted into words: Why, Wolf? How could you leave me?

  I was sweating yet freezing cold. I ran my tongue over my dry lips and hung on to the desk-top for support as I gritted my teeth. Not a sob, not a cry, not a glimmer of reaction must show for David was right beside me.

  I tried out a yawn, fiddled with my pencil and doodled figures on my pad, while part of me watched Wolf carefully, willing him not to go to the book and write down his real name.

  The porter beckoned to him and handed him a pen, and Wolf shrugged and turned away. He took a form, studied it and asked for several more. Then he went to the information counter in the next room.

  I bent down towards the floor, away from the camera, and fumbled in my bag, producing a tissue and a pseudo-sneeze. It was the supreme effort of my life to sit up straight, assume a bored, watchful expression and continue to gaze blankly at the door.

  Three more visitors signed and filled in forms. Wolf was spending a long time talking to a bank official. Eventually he walked out, telling the receptionist in English that he would bring back the forms the following day.

  So he was here, virtually hooked, and no doubt he would attend the cocktail party. What was I going to do? My indecision was agonizing.

  *

  David invited me to a local nightclub. He desperately wanted a romantic evening, but I simply could not get into a romantic mood. I was too worried. I tried to explain and I think he understood. Most of the time, I was imagining quite another scene: Nicky alone, waiting for his father who never, ever returns. Instead two strangers come to take him away. Okay, so one of them is his mother, but a stranger nonetheless.

  It hardly seemed good enough for Nicky.

  ‘Wolf will be lucky to get off with anything less than life,’ David said.

  What if Wolf brings Nicky to the cocktail party? Would he tr
y to escape? Would Nicky see his father captured?

  And what will I tell Nicky about his father when he’s older? How will I explain that he is serving a life sentence? Nicky loves Wolf. I could see that in the photographs. He wasn’t abandoned or neglected. Wolf has loved him dearly. Doesn’t that count for anything?

  ‘When will you marry me, Nina?’

  ‘If you still want me when I have Nicky back in my arms, I’m yours. Get a special licence if you like.’

  ‘Now it’s my turn to grumble. You’re not being very romantic.’

  I reached out and squeezed his hand. ‘Our time will come, David. I’m sure it will.’

  *

  The man I had most hoped to avoid flew into Riga early on the following morning. He checked into the hotel we were using, naturally, and came straight into my cubicle to threaten me.

  ‘Pretty neat,’ Colonel Borovoi said, looking at the one-way glass cubicle that surrounded me. ‘You can see the entire foyer and they can’t see you. Have you seen Moller yet?’

  ‘Yes. He didn’t reveal his identity, but he will. He’s coming back.’

  ‘Your Bernstein has taken most of the ground floor. Must have cost a packet. When does the conference officially open?’

  ‘The day after tomorrow with a cocktail party. That is where we’ll nab Wolf.’

  ‘But, Nina, just how much does your Bernstein know about me?’

  ‘Only that you’re in charge of the investigation to find Wolf and bring him to trial. In other words, the truth.’

  ‘Hm! I suppose he wants to make sure the US gets Moller first.’

  ‘I guess so, but he hasn’t said as much to me.’

  ‘I’d like to remind you of your promise and our agreement, Nina.’

  ‘I haven’t forgotten.’ I tried out a friendly grin, and noticed that his eyes remained cold while his lips returned my smile.

  ‘I no longer trust you, Nina.’

  ‘Why not? This is as good a plan as any to find Wolf’s real identity.’

  ‘What makes Bernstein so sure Moller is Latvian?’

 

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