The rest of the questions were all about MI5, the CIA and the Squadra Mobile, and what they knew or suspected about a possible Mafia involvement in the Stolzfus abduction. Jack answered all the questions willingly and accurately, and explained how the Mafia had first come to the attention of MI5 because of the Nike leaving Portsmouth on the very day Stolzfus had been abducted. He then mentioned the Nike–Caritas aerial photo during the hurricane, which had become the catalyst in the Mafia connection as both vessels had strong Mafia ownership links.
‘And were you the one who supplied information to the New York Times?’ asked Rodrigo.
‘Yes, I was,’ answered Jack. ‘Celia Crawford, the journalist who wrote the article, and I have collaborated on several high-profile cases before.’
‘And have you also been supplying information to the Squadra Mobile in Florence?’ asked Alessandro.
‘Yes, I have. I have worked with the Squadra Mobile before, especially acting chief superintendent Borroni and Chief Prosecutor Grimaldi.’
‘The Gambio matter?’
‘Yes.’
‘And are they aware that there may be a possible link between the Stolzfus abduction and the Giordano family?’
‘Yes, they are. The Caritas and Professor Fabry here have come to their particular attention for obvious reasons, and the recent discovery of Professor Stolzfus’s body provided all the proof needed to make the necessary connection. It put the matter beyond doubt.’
‘And MI5 and the CIA are aware of this?’
‘They are. In fact, Major Andersen, who is in charge of the CIA investigation, arrived in Florence yesterday.’
‘Do you know what the next steps are in the investigation?’ asked Alessandro.
‘Yes. I believe a raid on Professor’s Fabry’s surgery here in Valletta is imminent, and Professor Fabry and the captain will be investigated about the Stolzfus body found on the Caritas and certain other matters involving the Giordano family and the Mafia in general. The Squadra Mobile is particularly interested in the drug supply chain from South America and the role the Caritas and her crew have played in smuggling drugs into Malta.’
After that, there were no more questions.
‘Well, that seems to be it,’ said Fabry, and reached for his scalpel. ‘I think it’s time we begin the vivification process.’
‘What do you mean?’ croaked Jack, staring at the blade only a few centimetres from his face.
‘You are about to find out—’
‘I have a question, Dr Shehu,’ interjected Teodora.
Fabry froze and slowly put down the scalpel. Then he turned around and looked at Teodora, who was pointing a gun at him.
‘I-I don’t understand,’ he said.
‘Oh, I think you do. I would like to take you back to the twenty-fifth of October 1999. A family arrived in the middle of the night at a farmhouse near Burrel in Albania. A man and a woman with two young daughters; twins. I’m sure you remember. Do you know what happened to them?’
‘I don’t know what you are talking about,’ said Fabry hoarsely.
‘The girls were given to the owner of the farmhouse, and he raped them. And, of course, you know what happened to their parents, don’t you?’
‘This is crazy! Alessandro, do something!’ shouted Fabry.
‘There is nothing I can do,’ said Alessandro, and pointed to Aladdin standing next to him with a gun in his hand.
‘Both parents were shot in the back of the head,’ continued Teodora. ‘On your orders. Their bodies were then opened up by you, and some of their organs were removed. For sale on the lucrative black market in the Middle East—’
‘You are mistaken,’ interrupted Fabry, his voice sounding shrill. ‘That wasn’t me!’
‘Yes it was!’ shouted Teodora and took a step forward. ‘I saw you do it myself, through a crack in the stable wall. I was one of the twins. The day of reckoning has arrived, Dr Death! Justice at last!’
‘What are you talking about?’
‘You did say you needed a replacement for that specimen you lost the other day. Well, I think we’ve just found it, don’t you, guys?’
‘I think you are right,’ said Silvanus. ‘And a much better one than Mr Rogan here.’
Teodora walked over to Fabry and lifted her gun. ‘My parents were both shot in the back of the head,’ said Teodora. ‘Get down on your knees. Now!’
‘Alessandro!’ shrieked Fabry. There was no reply.
Slowly, Fabry got down on his knees. Teodora walked up to him from behind and pointed her gun at the back of his head. For a long moment she just held it there, remembering her parents as Tchaikovsky’s Lost Symphony reached its climax. Then she whispered, ‘Go to hell!’ and pulled the trigger.
‘That’s some justice,’ said Jack and looked at Teodora standing next to him.
‘It’s not over yet,’ said Teodora and untied the leather straps restraining Jack on the table. ‘Silvanus and Aladdin will need some help; give them a hand.’
‘What do you mean?’ Jack sat up, wiped some of Fabry’s blood off his face and rubbed his chafed wrists.
‘To drop this despicable piece of filth into the acetone bath over there and begin the vivification process, what else?’
Alessandro turned to Rodrigo standing next to him. ‘Did you know about this?’
‘I did. Did you?’
‘I had no idea.’
‘But your father ordered it.’
‘When?’
‘After breakfast at the villa.’
Alessandro shook his head, feeling suddenly quite small.
36
On the way to Tangier: 1 July, morning
After Fabry’s dramatic execution on the Caritas, Teodora knew they had to move fast and leave Malta. A visit from the authorities was imminent; it was only a matter of time before Fabry’s body was discovered because it was almost certain that the Caritas and Fabry’s clinic would be searched. Jack had said as much, and Teodora and Rodrigo had no doubt he was telling the truth.
Giordano had explained to Rodrigo the necessity of eliminating Fabry. Fabry had become a dangerous liability, putting the entire project in jeopardy. And, of course, there was a lot more Mafia business at stake that only Giordano would have known about ... It had also become clear that Stolzfus could no longer remain at the clinic and had to be removed from Malta as a matter of urgency, regardless of the risks involved. No-one suspected Stolzfus could possibly be alive and it was imperative to both Giordano and Rodrigo to keep it that way. Ignorance was always the best cover.
Fortunately, Fabry had left Stolzfus in the care of a gifted young surgeon from Ghana, who jumped at the opportunity to accompany Stolzfus on his journey to Colombia. As an illegal asylum-seeker working on the Caritas, he knew all too well how precarious his position was, and the promise of a new life in Colombia proved irresistible. It was the way Fabry had kept his staff in check, made sure they did his bidding and kept their mouths shut, irrespective of legal or ethical considerations. Fabry believed in the power of fear and money, and manipulated his staff and the crew on the Caritas accordingly.
Stolzfus was still in a coma but seemed to be making good progress. Fitted with a cervicothoracic orthosis brace and in a sitting position in a wheelchair, the blood vessels and nerve networks were regenerating faster than expected. The prognosis looked good, provided there were no unexpected mishaps or complications. A long sea journey had its risks, but with an experienced surgeon watching over him round the clock, the Ghanaian surgeon was optimistic it would work.
The moment of reckoning would come later, when Stolzfus was brought out of his coma and reawakened. It would only be then that the full impact of the revolutionary surgery could be assessed. Phonation was of course a critical issue here. It was imperative to be able to communicate with Stolzfus once he had been woken. That was the reason great care had been taken to transfer his head with the larynx and the recurrent laryngeal nerves intact. But it would only be possible to find out
if that had in fact worked once Stolzfus was conscious. The same applied to his motor functions.
With Stolzfus safely on board and in the care of the surgeon, Nike was ready to continue her journey to Tangier, the agreed handover port in Morocco. Teodora, Aladdin and Silvanus would all stay on board and accompany Stolzfus on the final leg of his long journey to Morocco. At the last minute, Rodrigo had added another condition to the agreed arrangements: Jack too, was to be taken to Tangier and then sent on with Stolzfus to Colombia.
Just before the Nike was due to leave Valletta, Teodora found herself momentarily alone with Rodrigo after Giacomo had been briefed and left the saloon to prepare the departure. Rodrigo would not travel with them, but return to Florence with Alessandro and meet them in Tangier two days’ later.
‘We’ve been through a lot together in a short time,’ began Teodora, speaking softly. ‘It’s been quite a journey since our first meeting in your office in New York.’
‘It sure has,’ said Rodrigo, wondering where this was going.
‘As our contract is shortly coming to an end, I would like to ask you a question if I may.’
‘Go ahead,’ said Rodrigo and lit a cigarette.
‘I’m intrigued. Why would a billionaire Colombian drug baron go to such astonishing lengths and spend millions to abduct a famous physicist, keep him alive in such an extraordinary way, and then take him to the other side of the world? For what?’
Rodrigo smiled. ‘It’s a good question, but I am not at liberty to give you an answer. Instead, I will ask you a question: What would you have been prepared to do had there been a way to save your sister?’
Teodora was taken aback. ‘I would have done anything to save her,’ replied Teodora without hesitation. ‘Absolutely anything at all.’
‘You see, you have your answer. My client’s position is no different. Most important things in life come down to a few basic issues that really count. This is such a case. We try to protect what is close to our hearts at all cost, and are prepared to sacrifice almost anything to achieve this, often in crazy, totally illogical ways and against our own interests. Does this make sense?’
Teodora nodded. ‘It does,’ she said, remembering how she had felt about her late parents and Fabry just a short while ago. ‘But where does Jack Rogan fit into all this? You are taking him back to Colombia with Stolzfus? Why?’
‘It’s complicated, and my client is a complicated man, but a very shrewd and far-sighted one with incredible instincts and a brain wired for strategic thinking – like that of a general on a battlefield.’
‘That doesn’t answer my question.’
‘Jack Rogan is a unique, extremely well-connected individual with access to people in high places, including the world media, and my client needs just such a person to carry out an important part of his plan. This makes Rogan very useful and valuable. Stolzfus and now Rogan are both part of that plan. Just like Fabry had to be silenced, Stolzfus and Rogan have to be kept alive. It’s all about the big picture. Simple as that.’
‘I see ...’
‘The Coatilcue has already docked in the Port of Tangier and is waiting for us. As soon as you arrive, she will sail for Colombia with Stolzfus and Rogan on board.’
‘Funny name for a ship.’
‘Coatilcue was an Aztec goddess who gave birth to the moon, the stars and Huitzilopochtli, the god of the sun and war. The cartel is named after him. My client is a strong believer in tradition. Tangier is part of the Slave Route bringing drugs from Colombia into Europe. Just like the Aztec Highway brings drugs into the US via Mexico. My client owns several ships. The Coatilcue is one of them.’
‘And what will you do?’
‘I will meet you in Tangier.’
‘You realise of course that with the discovery of Stolzfus’s body on the Caritas – and very soon Fabry’s as well – add to this Rogan’s abduction and the article in the New York Times, all hell will break loose.’
Rodrigo nodded.
‘We’ll have some of the most powerful law enforcement agencies in the world trying to hunt us down.’
‘I’m aware of that.’
‘Does that bother you?’
‘No, not really. We are used to it. My client lives in the shadow of war all the time. What about you?’ asked Rodrigo.
Teodora smiled. ‘We are used to it as well. We live in the shadow of exposure, which would of course destroy us. It’s part of what we do.’
‘I think you and my client have a lot in common.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘You are both very good at what you do, and are both addicted to danger and don’t seem to know fear. At least not like others do.’
‘And you?’
‘I make money out of it. I’m a lawyer.’
‘That’s honest.’
Rodrigo shrugged. ‘I have to go. My plane is leaving in an hour. Alessandro and I are returning to Florence. Good luck, Teodora,’ he said and stubbed out his cigarette. ‘And don’t forget, the last step is always the hardest.’
Stolzfus sat in his wheelchair, supported by a sophisticated brace. His eyes were firmly shut and he could hear and process everything that was happening around him, but couldn’t feel anything. Nor could he move any part of his body. In fact, he wasn’t even aware he had one. His mind, however, was as sharp and alert as ever. His self-awareness, too, had changed. It was as if he were looking from the outside in at somebody else, not himself. Certainly not his old self, and strangely, there were no emotions. No feelings of joy, or pain, no feelings of longing or regrets, only a detached awareness of his mind, and memories that linked him to his past and who he was, or more accurately, who he had been.
Stolzfus had turned into a purely cerebral being with his remarkable brain intact and functioning perfectly, where existence was now defined by thought only, and in order to occupy itself, that brain turned to its favourite subjects: physics and the universe.
In his mind, which was now free of all human distractions and limitations, Stolzfus travelled to the outer reaches of the universe and back in time to the very beginning, the Big Bang, and imagined how the universe looked at that crucial moment when time itself began, and pondered how it could have created itself. He visited black holes and looked inside, and imagined a place where gravity was so powerful that not even light could escape. And all the time he was making complex calculations, using mathematics as his language instead of speech, and storing up those calculations for future reference in the hidden recesses of his extraordinary mind.
Step by step, that mind was putting together a theory that explained everything that had gone on before, and was going on right now in the universe, and would go on in the future until the very end of time. A theory of everything that had eluded him during his previous existence was now slowly taking shape through pure imagination driven entirely by logic, and explained through irrefutable laws that were pure and eternal, and expressed through mathematics as the universal language.
Locked in a tiny cabin next to the one occupied by Stolzfus, Jack went through the turbulent events of the past twenty-four hours and tried to work out why he was still alive. As he reached for the little cross around his neck, he could hear that music again – Tchaikovsky – echoing eerily through the chamber of horrors on the Caritas, certain now more than ever that somehow the little cross had protected him when all had seemed lost, and death had appeared to be only seconds away.
37
Chief Prosecutor’s office, Florence: 1 July, afternoon
Grimaldi walked over to the whiteboard behind his desk, and for a while just looked at it with his hands folded behind his back. ‘Are you telling me that after more than twenty-four hours have passed since Jack Rogan disappeared from his hotel, we have no leads whatsoever?’
‘That’s not entirely correct,’ said Cesaria. ‘We do have something ...’
‘Enlighten me.’
‘This is what we know so far; in fact, it would be better if you cou
ld hear this from Tristan. After all, he was right there, and he has some additional information that could be helpful.’
Grimaldi walked back to his desk and sat down. ‘All right, Tristan, let’s hear it. It seems to me that once again, amateurs like you appear to know more about this case than our police,’ said Grimaldi, unable to keep the sarcasm out of his voice. Tired and irritable – he had barely slept since Jack’s disappearance the day before – he had mobilised every available resource to find out what had happened to the Australian writer.
Grimaldi had no doubt the Mafia was behind all this, especially as the sensational article in the New York Times had mentioned Jack Rogan as a source, which had triggered a raft of headlines in papers around Italy, training the spotlight once again on the Mafia in Florence and the under-resourced law enforcement agencies trying to bring the festering problem to heel. There were also the usual accusations of incompetence and thinly veiled suggestions of corruption in high places. In fact, Grimaldi had already received a call from the General Commander of the Guardia di Finanza wanting to know what progress had been made in the embarrassing Rogan abduction matter. The pressure was on, especially now that Major Andersen of the CIA had arrived and joined Cesaria in the investigation. This had elevated the case to an entirely new level.
‘As I explained to Cesaria,’ began Tristan, ‘this woman – she called herself Teodora – is definitely involved. It all started with a phone call and message Jack received during breakfast at the hotel. He excused himself, stood up and walked out of the room. That was the last time we saw him. Moments later, this woman got up as well and pretended to go to the buffet table, but she kept walking and left the room. That was the last time we saw her. Both Jack and the woman disappeared without a trace.
‘But what could be helpful here,’ continued Tristan, ‘is this: I have met this woman before, just a few days ago in Venice. She and a friend were staying at our hotel, the Palazzo da Baggio. I have contacted our reception and obtained some details about the booking. It was made by a woman called Izabel Santos, who gave an address in Milan. We also have a phone number and an email address. Jack knows this woman very well. They have a connection going back many years and it was because of her that we were introduced to Teodora. It was obvious that Izabel and Teodora are very close. They were holding hands during dinner ...’
The Curious Case of the Missing Head Page 26