Charades (19 page)

     “Answers? But you are the ones with the answers,” Adolph said, finally turning his eyes to Wulf.

     “Why have you brought us here? What do you want?” he persisted, trying to keep Adolph’s attention. Muscles cramped and tightened all over Wulf’s body. Silently, he pleaded with Mercy to let him do the talking.

     “But it’s simple,” the man said, turning his cold stare back to Mercy again. “I want the money that bitch stole from me. Give it to me, and I will set you free.” Adolph’s attempt at a smile was nothing more than a sneer.

     “If we knew where it was, maybe we could help you,” Wulf said conversationally. “She hid it well, didn’t she? I assume that you’re Stratton’s brother, Adolph?”

     The man’s icy composure slipped for a few seconds, fury seeping into his voice. “Yes, she hid it well. I never thought she was that sly.”

     He turned again to Mercy, pinning her with a venomous glare. “Where is my money?” he hissed.

     “I don’t know anything about the money. I never even knew it existed until a few days ago. Besides, it doesn’t belong to you or me. It belongs to the people it was stolen from.”

     “You’re telling the truth, aren’t you?” Adolph motioned to a third man behind them. “Juan? Take them out and shoot them.”

     Mercy’s face went white as the man started forward, then turned red as her eyes narrowed on the gunman.

     “Wait a minute,” Wulf said. “Are you such an old fool that you’re going to kill your only possible link to
finding
that damn money? Just because we don’t know where it is, doesn’t mean we’re not hot on its trail. We’ll find it.” If we live that long.

     Adolph was silent for a moment. “You may be right,” he said, impatience lacing his tone. “What have you found out?”

     “Nothing as yet, other than she hid it in a damn good place, a place so obscure neither you nor Erich have been able to find it, even after all these years. Maybe you could help us locate it faster by giving us all the information
you
have.”

     Adolph glared at Wulf for a long minute. He lifted his hand in an angry, dismissive gesture. “Bah, Erich was useless when searching for the money after her death.”

     “Maybe you can tell us about coming to Mexico with Erich? There might be a clue in that.”

     Adolph leaned back and nodded. “He sent me over here in the 1930s to save my life from Hitler’s homophobic goons. The Nazis didn’t like men who had, shall we say, alternative lifestyles, anymore than they did the Jews. As it turned out, it was providential. When Erich left Germany, I had the villa ready for him and that slut. I also arranged for the Fuentes family to protect him.”

     He paused and frowned, as if suddenly remembering something unpleasant, “That damned Fuentes boy!” Looking pointedly at Mercy, he said with disgust, “Your father, of course. At first, I thought he had the money when he ran off with Lisa, but I had him watched for years afterwards and
nothing
.”

     “You spied on him when he left Mexico?”

     “Of course.” Adolph looked at her. “If he took the money, though, he certainly never used it. What a fool! I didn’t care about her or her daughter, Lisa. All I wanted was the money. Just look at this place.” He waved his hand around. “It’s a broken-down disaster. It’s all that slut’s fault. I’ve never regretted killing her.”

     Mercy gasped, and Wulf saw her face turn pale as her hands clenched.

     “Why? Why did you kill her?” she asked Adolph in a taut voice that tore at Wulf’s heartstrings. Anger and revulsion played over her features.

     “Why? Because she took my money! She was nothing but a stupid, French peasant. I had to make it look like an accident, you understand, for Erich’s sake. With the Fuentes family already causing us trouble, I felt it better to handle her death myself. Nothing but a simple matter of fixing, or should I say, unfixing, the brakes. We have such treacherous roads around here, you know.” He clicked his tongue in mock sympathy. “A pity. Lisa should have died with her, but the slut left the girl home.”

     “What about the Fuentes family?” Wulf asked, attempting to keep Adolph’s thoughts off Mercy.

     “I hired them to protect us when I bought this place. They are nothing but a bunch of thugs. I don’t know why they’ve done so well, other than the fact they are the biggest group of pretty boys I ever saw. Unfortunately for me, they were not inclined toward men.”

     Wulf watched Mercy absorb Adolph’s words. It was obvious to him why Pedro had fled Mexico when he eloped with Mercy’s mother. The danger Mercy had sensed about her father was probably because he’d grown up around such thugs and miscreants.

     “I thought the Fuentes family worked as your gardeners?”

     “Gardeners!” Adolph snorted. “They had dirty hands, all right, but it was not from the soil. They took care of the bribes and the armed guards that protected us. The Fuentes family is riding so high now, if I did not know better, I would think they had discovered the money.”

     “Why do you say that?” Wulf asked.

     “If they had the money back then, their ascendance would have happened much sooner than it did. After all, no one knew the system of bribery in this country better than they did. They were smart, too. They allied themselves with every powerful family in Mexico, even the revolutionary ones. Their pretty looks always got them everything they wanted.”

     Adolph’s eyes pinned Mercy to her seat. “I hated your father. If he had not run away with Lisa when he did, I would have found a way to kill him, too.”

     Adolph leaned back. “It would have had to be accidental again, because nobody in their right mind tangles with the Fuentes family, not then and most assuredly not now. Can you believe it, it’s not enough that one of them is a cabinet secretary, one of them is also married to the president’s niece.” Outrage and antagonism warred for precedence on Adolph’s face as he settled himself comfortably back into the contours of his high-backed chair.

     Wulf watched helplessly as Mercy’s face crumpled in revulsion. God knows her grandfather had been bad enough, but Adolph, Wulf thought with strong distaste in his mouth, had crawled right out of the sewer. If only he’d crawl right back again.

     Mercy jumped up. “I need a bathroom,” she said.

     “
Feo!
Take her to the bathroom,” Adolph called to the old man who’d let them in. The old man shuffled in and motioned to Mercy.

     Wulf thought hard. The only way to keep them both alive would be if Adolph thought they might lead him to the money.

     “You’ve given us a lot to think about,” Wulf ventured, “but it will take some time to put all of the pieces together. Maybe we can help each other without making the Fuentes and the Chamorros come gunning for you.”

     “What are you saying?” Adolph cocked his head toward Wulf, his strange, unblinking eyes narrowing intently.

     “We’re both after the money, aren’t we? I believe there’s some clue in Mercy’s memory that will lead us to where her grandmother hid it. I’m willing to split the money with you if I find it, but you have to cooperate with me on this. Mercy and I are engaged, you know, and she’ll do anything I say.”

     Adolph stared at him for several long minutes. “Your plan has merit,” he agreed, “but it will not be split. I will let you live and that is all.”

     “No deal. We not only live, but I get forty percent.” Adolph stared at him for a moment, then nodded shortly.

     “When Erich told me of his plan to see his granddaughter,” Adolph mused. “I told him to pick her brain for information. He clearly didn’t, the old fool.”

     “Erich has disappeared. He may even be dead.”

     Adolph shook his head impatiently. “I knew something like that would happen if he left Mexico. Who are you with anyway? The Jews? The Germans? Who?”

     “I’m not with anyone,” Wulf said. “Do I look like a fool to you? What kind of a fool turns over that much money to anyone else? Yes, I’m working for an Israeli organization, but I’m doing this for myself. I’m convinced Mercy is the key, and everything I’ve found out so far has proven that right.”

     “What do you mean? I thought she didn’t know anything?”

     “We’ve already come across a bank account number that was in the locket she was wearing,” Wulf said in a conspiratorial vein, leaning toward Adolph. “Now all we have to do is find out where the bank account is. Leave me alone with her for a while longer, and I promise I’ll find the information you want. With a little time I know I can get her to tell me everything she knows.”

     Adolph gave him a wicked sneer. “You are a clever man, Mr. Rheinhart. Do not forget I am also very clever. I have known about your presence in this country since you landed, and I have had you followed. If you fail me, I can also have you eliminated. Both of you.” Adolph drummed his fingers on the arm of his chair. “But what you say has merit. If she is the key, then it is up to you to find the lock…or else.”

     Mercy stopped in the hall listening. It felt as though the floor had opened up beneath her and she’d fallen through. Her heart slowly shattered into jagged shards. He’d lied all along. About everything!

     Tears rose in her eyes. How could he turn against his own people like that? The answer was inescapable. Because his Jewish father had rejected him, and perhaps his Jewish family, too.

     Mercy shook her head silently, her eyes full of tears. Turning abruptly, she went back to the bathroom. Cold water would take away the tracks of her tears. To hell with refreshing her makeup or brushing her hair, she thought, despondency making her body feel limp. What difference did her looks make now? She didn’t give a damn about anything anymore.

     Several minutes later, composed and pulled together as well as she could manage, Mercy re-entered the main room. She had to make Wulf believe she still believed in him, and she had to make that despicable slime, Adolph, think she didn’t know what they were up to. Her only hope was to get in contact with her father’s family, the Chamorros, or maybe even the Fuentes’. God forbid, she thought with a sinking feeling, they should feel towards her as Adolph did.

     Adolph turned as Mercy entered the room. “I am sorry we will not be able to see any more of each other, my dear. Your young man has convinced me you know nothing of importance to me. A pity, but he has also persuaded me it would not do for the Fuentes or Chamorro families to find out I’ve harmed you. Because of that I’ve decided to let you both live. The driver is ready to take you back into the city. You will see Ramon Chamorro a little late, but at least you will be alive.”

     He gave her another of his reptilian smiles. “Forgive me, a little joke of mine.” He waved his hand to the driver, who pocketed his gun and led them back to the cab that had brought them.

     “That was a close call,” Wulf said with relief in his voice. “I had to do some fast talking back there.”

     “Um-hum.” Mercy’s heart wallowed in despair. “If you don’t mind, I think I’ll take a little nap on the way back.”

     “Good idea,” he said, noting the puffiness of her eyes as well as the dark smudges under them. He felt a momentary pang of disappointment when instead of leaning her head on his shoulder she leaned against the side of the car. Although he tried to pull her toward him, she was already asleep and resisted his pull. Just as well, he thought, he needed to concentrate on what to do next. He couldn’t do that very well when she was near.

* * *

     “Mercy, wake up. We’re here.” Wulf’s voice came to her from far, far away. In her dream, she was on a cruise ship with her parents. The cruise ship was sinking, but for some reason, no one on board would tell her where to go or how to save herself. She couldn’t understand why everyone was ignoring her. The confusion made her frantic. All the faceless strangers pointed to her parents. Her parents, however, only smiled benignly at her and, with their arms around each other, walked away.

     Her eyes opened slowly, looking up at Wulf’s concerned gaze as he smoothed her hair back from her face. Mercy sat up, straightening her clothes and looking around. It was late afternoon, and they were in downtown Mexico City at one of the newest glass-and-steel buildings.

     “This is the place. Shall we go in?” He reached back to help her out of the car, but she ignored his hand.

     The subtle change in Mercy’s attitude bothered Wulf. When she looked at him, it was as if she was seeing an insect. At first, he put it down to the scare with Adolph, but for some reason he felt it went deeper than that.

     The security guard at the front desk eyed them warily as they entered. The guard called up to the penthouse suite, then walked them over to the private elevator. He turned the key and pressed the alarm before returning to his desk.

     Pretty elaborate security measures, Wulf thought, as they rose to the forty-fifth floor. Why did Chamorro need so much security? Something smelled fishy here.

     A man using a metal scanner met them as they exited the elevator. They followed him down a long mahogany-paneled corridor that was about fifteen feet wide. Museum-quality Mexican artifacts artfully lighted and displayed on polished granite and marble tables and shining brass and glass
etageres
lined the walls.

     The double doors at the end of the corridor opened and their escort ushered them into a huge room. The room screamed wealth, privilege, and power—from the quality of the marble floor and its Oriental rugs to the state-of-the-art computer setup in the background.

     A man emerged from the shadows. “Allow me to welcome you to my offices. I am Ramon Chamorro.”

     Chamorro stood about six feet tall and was around seventy years old, a handsome, distinguished-looking Mexican gentleman. Wulf studied Chamorro, taking in his impeccable posture, the dark blue, Italian-cut suit, the spotless white shirt and blue silk tie. Generations of wealth and breeding showed in his dark coloring, his silver-shaded, black hair, and his haughty stance and demeanor.

     Wulf watched with burgeoning jealousy as Chamorro looked expectantly at Mercy, a warm smile on his face. How did she know he wasn’t just like Adolph? Then again, he reasoned, after Adolph, any family member would look good.