Countdown (19 page)

She nodded.

“It’s a good phrase.” He turned away. “I feel as if that horse broke all my bones. But he didn’t, and he won’t. Maybe my heart . . . But hearts heal, don’t they?”

“So I understand.”

He glanced back at her. “All that wisdom you’ve been spouting and you don’t know the most important thing? I can tell you’re not Italian.”

It was almost a joke, thank God. The pain was still there, but he was not quite as devastated as he had been. She smiled. “I realize that’s a great handicap.”

“Yes, it is, but you’re exceptional enough to overcome it.” He paused before he added, “Thank you, Jane.”

He didn’t wait for a reply before he left the room.

She slowly rose to her feet. She had gotten what she needed from Mario, but it had been an experience that was painful for both of them. And she had seen something in Mario that last few minutes that had surprised her. It was as if she had witnessed a rebirth or a coming of age or . . .

She didn’t know. It could be imagination born from the emotional state they’d both gone through today. Personality changes seldom came with such rapidity.

But changes were rarely initiated by such shock and horror.

And hadn’t her attitude toward Trevor been clarified by that horror too? Life around her was shifting, moving as Grozak and Reilly pulled the strings.

It had to stop.

11
                                                                                          

H
ow is he?” Trevor asked as she came into the library ten minutes later. “Still hating my guts?”

“No.” She grimaced. “Hating himself. But he’s going to give you what you want. He’s going to go back to translating this evening.”

“You must have cast a spell.”

She shook her head. “I told him the truth, but I think he would have come to it anyway if we’d given him a little more time. I believe you’re going to find he’s . . . different.”

“How?”

She shrugged. “I’m not sure. But I don’t think I’ll be tempted to call him a ‘nice boy’ anymore. Judge for yourself. He’ll come down to talk to you later.” She changed the subject. “Did you find out anything from Venable about Wickman?”

“He’s going to get back to me. He sent a man to talk to Eduardo Donato’s sister, and she said she hadn’t seen him since yesterday morning. Eduardo called and told her he was going to take a job acting as a guide for a tourist he met in a coffeehouse.”

“Did he tell her his name?”

He shook his head. “He was interrupted in the middle of the conversation and hung up quickly.”

“Can we get a photo of Wickman from Venable?”

“In time. So far he hasn’t been able to pull up a record. Wickman seems to be the invisible man. But I’ll have Brenner zero in on the coffeehouse and see if he can get us a description from one of the waiters.”

She went still. “I can do better than that.”

He understood at once. “No. Not only no, but hell no.”

“If I can get a good description, I can do a sketch. Since I’ve never seen Wickman, that sketch would tell you what you want to know without question.”

“Then I’ll have Brenner ask the questions and relate the answers over the phone to you.”

“It doesn’t work that way. I have to show the sketch to the witness as I’m doing it to get a confirmation on the features.” Her lips tightened. “And I’m not sitting here and waiting for Brenner to waste time trying to pin down the ID when I can do it faster.”

“It’s not safe for you to go traipsing all over Lucerne. I can keep you secure here.”

“I’m not going all over Lucerne. I’m going to one café, and presumably you’ll have Brenner there to meet me at the airport. Can you arrange for a helicopter and a private plane in Aberdeen piloted by someone you trust?”

“I could. I won’t.”

“Yes, you will. Because you know I’m going anyway.” She turned on her heel. “I’ll go up and pack an overnight case and my sketchbook.”

“What part of no didn’t you understand?”

“The part where you gave me orders that go against good sense. Call Brenner and tell him I’m coming, or I’ll find my own way to that café.”

M
ario met Jane as she left her bedroom and was heading for the stairs. He frowned as he glanced at the overnight case she was carrying. “Where are you going?”

“I have to do a job. I’ll be back tonight or tomorrow.”

“What kind of job?”

She was silent a moment, unsure how he would accept the truth. “I’m going to Lucerne to try to do a sketch of your father’s killer, if I can get a good description.”

“Is that possible?”

She nodded. “I’m pretty good. I have a knack for it.”

“Someone saw him?”

“We think there’s a good chance. Your father was well known at the café and—”

He turned back to his room. “I’m going with you.”

“No.”

“It’s got to be dangerous. What if he’s still around? I’m not going to let you run a risk. My father was killed and he didn’t do—”

“No, you’re more valuable here.” He started to protest and she said quickly, “I don’t need you. I’m going to have Brenner to help me.”

He was silent a moment before his lips twisted in a mirthless smile. “Then I guess you don’t need me. I wouldn’t be much good to you, would I? I’m better at dealing with books than the real world. I never realized that I’d ever have to know how to fight people like Grozak.” He paused. “You’re sure that you’ll be safe with Brenner?”

“I’m sure. Good-bye, Mario.” She hurried down the stairs before he could protest again. Trevor was standing at the front door. “You’ve phoned Brenner?”

“Yes, and I’m going with you myself.” He opened the door for her. “Bartlett’s arranged for a helicopter. It will be landing in five minutes.”

“No.”

“I beg your pardon?”

“No.” She repeated his words to her. “What part of that word don’t you understand? You’re not going with me. You have no purpose except to protect me, and Brenner is doing that. You told me that one of your jobs here at the Run was to keep an eye on Mario. Well, that’s more important than ever now.”

“And what about keeping an eye on you?”

“Grozak appears to have changed targets and is aiming at Mario. All the more reason for keeping him safe.” She saw his lips tighten and added fiercely, “I talked Mario into going back to work, and I’m not letting that go to waste. It’s important that he get that scroll done as soon as possible. Someone’s got to be here to encourage and reinforce him. That’s either me or you. And I’m going to Lucerne.” She opened the door. “Don’t try to stop me, Trevor.”

“I wouldn’t think of it,” he said sarcastically. “You’d probably push me out of the helicopter.”

“Right.”

“And I wouldn’t dream of trying to quench that fire I seem to have lit.”

“You couldn’t.” She looked him in the eye. “You were born in Johannesburg and you’ve been roaming most of your life. I don’t know whether you consider yourself a citizen of the world or a man without a country. Well, I do have a country, and I protect what’s mine. So you’re damn right I’m on fire. We’ll do what’s best to keep Grozak away from my people no matter who’s at risk.”

“My God, a patriot.”

“I’m not ashamed of it. Mock all you please.”

“I’m not mocking. I’m envious.” He turned away. “Go on. Get on that helicopter before I start remembering that video of Eduardo Donato. I’ll take care of Mario.”

A
few minutes later Trevor watched the helicopter take off and circle east over the sea. His hands clenched into fists. Dammit, he wanted to call the pilot, Cookson, and tell him to bring her back. Instead, he called Brenner. “She’s on her way. Cookson just took off. I want her back here in twenty-four hours. If anything happens to her, I’ll have your ass.”

“You can try.” Brenner paused. “I’ll keep her safe, Trevor.”

“If she lets you. She’s full of piss and vinegar and the star-spangled banner.”

“What a combination,” Brenner said. “It may prove an interesting twenty-four hours.” He hung up.

Interesting? Trevor watched the helicopter as it flew toward the horizon. That wasn’t the word he would have used. It was going to be one hell of a—

“She’s gone?”

Trevor turned to see Mario standing behind him, his gaze on the helicopter. He nodded curtly. “She’ll be back as soon as she does the sketch.”

“I wanted to go with her.”

“So did I. She wasn’t having it.”

Mario smiled slightly. “She’s a very strong woman.” His smile disappeared. “Have they found my father yet?”

“No.”

He shuddered. “I hate the idea of his body being tossed aside with no respect by that—” He drew a deep breath. “Have you shown the police the video?”

“No, but I’m sending it to the authorities right away.” He looked the boy in the eye. “If you still don’t trust me, I’ll let you talk to them if you like.”

Mario shook his head. “I don’t have to talk to them.” He added awkwardly, “I’m sorry that— I shouldn’t have believed that swine when he wrote that you—No, I didn’t believe him. Not really. I just couldn’t accept that I—”

“Forget it. It’s understandable.”

“I can’t forget it. I blinded myself to the truth because it wasn’t what I wished it to be. I closed myself up in my cocoon just as I’ve always done.” His lips tightened. “I can’t do that any longer.”

Trevor’s gaze narrowed on Mario’s face. “Is this leading somewhere?”

“Yes. Jane wouldn’t let me go with her because she knew she’d be safer with Brenner.” He frowned. “I’m not equipped for life outside my ivory tower. That has to change. I won’t be a helpless pawn with my head in the sand.”

“You’re not a pawn.”

“Grozak thinks I am. He killed my father to make me do what he wanted. He’ll kill Jane if he can, won’t he?”

“He’d rather take her alive. But, hell yes, he won’t hesitate to kill her if it suits him.”

“You see, I have to ask these questions that I should have asked when I first came here. I didn’t want to know anything that might make me feel uncomfortable and keep me from my work.” He shook his head. “What a fool I was. . . .”

“You didn’t need to know. It was your job to translate those scrolls. It was my job to protect you.”

“And now I have another job. I didn’t protect my father, but I can avenge him.”

“No, we’ll handle it.”

He smiled sadly. “Because you believe I’m not man enough to do it myself. I will show you. I may seem useless, but I’m not afraid.”

“You should be, dammit.” Trevor frowned. “If you want to get revenge, get that scroll translated.”

“I will. That goes without saying. But how fast I do it depends on you.”

“Do I smell a touch of blackmail?”

“Only a bargain. There are things I must learn.”

“Such as?”

“I know nothing about weapons. I’m sure you could teach me.”

“Mario—”

“Guns. That shouldn’t take too long.”

Trevor studied him. Jane was right. Mario was changing, maturing, hardening by the minute. “You’re serious about this.”

“And I should know some self-defense.”

“I don’t have time to conduct a course in—” He stopped as he saw Mario’s jaw square with determination. Oh, what the hell. He couldn’t argue with the boy’s motives. He would have done the same under similar circumstances. But those circumstances had never existed for him. He couldn’t remember a time when he hadn’t been fighting for survival in one way or another. Ivory towers were the stuff of myths. “Okay, two hours a day. I’ll set up a target range on the Run. The rest of the time you’re working on the scrolls.” He held up his hand as Mario opened his lips. “And MacDuff owes me a favor. I’ll ask him to teach you some karate moves. That’s it, Mario.”

“Starting today?”

“Okay, today.”

“It’s enough—for now.” Mario added, “Just one more thing.”

“You’re pushing.”

“It’s something I have the right to know. It’s what I should have asked in the beginning. Why is Grozak after the scrolls? Why did he kill my father?”

Trevor nodded. He was too volatile to tell everything, but he deserved to know the basics. “You’re right. It’s not fair to keep you in the dark.” He turned toward the front door. “Come on in and we’ll go to the library and have a drink. You may need it—it’s a nasty story.”

Y
ou’ve upset Trevor,” Brenner said as he met Jane at the plane. “He’s threatening me with mayhem if I don’t take proper care of you.”

“Then do it. I understand you’re pretty good at mayhem yourself.” She changed the subject. “Have you talked to the waiters at the café yet?”

He nodded. “It’s pretty busy early in the morning. Evidently there are a lot of regulars like Donato who show up every day. Albert Dengler, the man behind the counter, says he got a close look at the man Donato was sitting with. The café is sort of like your Starbucks, and he served him when he came to the counter. I thought it best to only tell him that Donato is missing and no details.”

“Will he be working today or do we have to go to his home?”

Brenner checked his watch. “He should be starting his shift in about an hour and forty minutes.”

“Then let’s go.”

“Yes, ma’am.” He opened the passenger door of the car for her. “Anything else?”

“You can make sure I have sufficient time with him to get a good enough description to do the sketch.”

“I’ll do my best.” He smiled. “It shouldn’t be a problem. If I have to do it, I’ll take over his shift. Of course, I can’t promise that the caffe mocha won’t turn out to be caffe latte. But I’ll be such a charming lad that no one will care.”

“Just so you don’t make Dengler too nervous to concentrate.”

“I wouldn’t judge him to be the nervous type. Or if he is, it’s not when he’s on his favorite pot.”

“Oh, great. He’s on drugs?”

“Marijuana. There’s no mistaking the odor that clings to him, and he appeared very mellow.”

“Maybe too mellow to be detail oriented.”

“Well, if he’s on the stuff regularly, he’s not going to have a great memory. You’ll have to see, won’t you?” He started the car. “But if he’s on the happy weed, he’ll be laid-back enough to give you all the time you need.”

H
e usually sat over there.” Dengler nodded at a table by the wrought-iron railing overlooking the lake. “A nice old gentleman. Always dressed neat and tidy. Not like some of the kids who come in here. I have to tell them to wear shoes. You’d think they’d realize this is—”

“Had you ever seen him with the other man?”

He shook his head. “He was always alone. No, once he came in with a woman.” He wrinkled his brow. “Late fifties, gray hair, a little plump.”

Donato’s sister, Jane guessed. “How long ago was that?”

He shrugged. “I don’t know. Six months, maybe.”

The description was good—excellent, for the length of time from the sighting. Brenner was right about the smell of pot that clung to Dengler, but it must not be habitual if he had this decent a memory.

“Was there anything unusual about the man who sat down at Donato’s table?”

He thought about it. “He was tall, thin. Long legs. He seemed to be all legs.”

“No, his face.”

Dengler thought about it. “Nothing really unusual. Large eyes. Hazel, I think.”

“No scars?”

He shook his head. “His complexion was a little pasty, as if he worked inside a lot.” He paused, looking at her sketchbook open in front of her. “Can you really do this?”