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Authors: Kathy Kacer

Tags: #HIS043000, #HIS037070

Restitution (35 page)

BOOK: Restitution
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Theo went over the conversation he had had with the family. He liked Karl. He was sincere, passionate, and clearly driven to right a wrong that had been imposed on his family. There was more at stake here than just four valuable paintings. Karl had called it family restitution and Theo admired him for devoting himself to reclaiming what was rightfully his. He sensed that Karl respected him in return, though he certainly didn't get the same feeling from Karl's sister or her husband. At that, Theo shrugged. It appeared that Karl was the one driving this mission, his employer, in a sense, and that was what mattered most.

The telephone rang shrilly, and Theo moved to the bedside table to answer it. “Hello,” he said, distracted.

“I thought you were avoiding me.” The voice on the other end was low and seductive, but unfamiliar.

“Darling!” Theo exclaimed. “Why do you think I would ever avoid you?” He closed his eyes momentarily, wracking his brain to place the voice.

“Oh, I don't know. Perhaps it's the fact that you haven't called in several weeks, not since the night you took me to the opera. Ring a bell? As I recall, you said I was the most fascinating part of the evening.”

Ah, now he remembered! He had met this woman at a dinner hosted by another friend in the arts community. Theo had been seated next to her at the dinner table. She had cat-like green eyes that shifted in the dim candlelight like a kaleidoscope held to the light. Theo had been taken with her exotic beauty and she in turn had fallen victim to his charm. By the end of the evening, he had invited her to the opening night of the opera with tickets his host that night had provided. He recalled entering the theater and sinking into the plush red velvet seats. As soon as the lights dimmed, he felt his head begin to nod and his eyes grow heavy. Before long, he was dozing and the music blended into a background of sounds that drifted in and out of his consciousness. His date woke him at the end of the performance. The evening, however, had not been a total disappointment. He had managed to convince this woman to come back to his apartment.

“It's wonderful to hear your voice,” Theo replied. He chose to ignore the reprimand, focusing instead on his memory of the passionate night they had shared. He had not deliberately abandoned her after that. Things had gotten busy at the gallery, though that was never an excuse for Theo to neglect a romantic diversion. It was simply that in the meantime he had met his current companion – the woman from the gallery opening.

“You won't think it's so wonderful when you hear what I have to say.” The tenor of her voice had taken a turn. Theo heard the sharp edge creep into her tone and he braced himself slightly for what was to come. Anger? Tears? Admonitions? He had seen and heard them all, and had dealt with every conceivable fallout from the relationships he had left in his wake.

“Five thousand dollars. Sound familiar? I lent you the money and I'm still waiting for you to repay me.” By now her voice dripped with sarcasm and disdain.

It was all coming back to him now. After their night together, he had convinced this woman to loan him money that he had said he needed to restore another painting at the gallery. He had promised her that the loan was short term, a brief cash flow problem that would soon be remedied by the sale of this particular work of art and the profit that he expected to make. While some of the money had indeed been used for the refurbishment of the painting, the bulk of it had been used for a number of other activities, including the restocking of his wine cabinet. It also helped to have some of that cash on hand for his upcoming trip to Prague.

“In fact, I was just thinking about you,” Theo lied. It was time for some quick thinking and quicker talking. He understood that the sting this woman was feeling for having been abandoned by him was sharper for the fact that he had also milked her for a substantial amount of money. “You'll be happy to know that the restoration of that painting we discussed is almost complete. It took longer than I had anticipated, so in fact that particular work of art hasn't yet come up for auction.” He couldn't actually remember whether the painting had already sold or not. It didn't really matter one way or the other. “So I'm hoping you'll be patient for a little while longer. I haven't forgotten about you, so please don't be angry with me.” His voice was honey now. “We shared a wonderful time together, and you
will
be repaid. You just have to trust me on this.”

“You expect me to trust you? I think that was my mistake the last time.”

It was time to end this call. Theo had too many other things to do. “I'm leaving for a trip in a few weeks. I'll be gone for about a week. You'll have your money when I return.” With that, he said good-bye, cutting off any final protests, and hung up the receiver. Then he quickly dialed another number and waited for a voice to pick up on the other end. “Hello, it's Theo,” he said when the line was answered. “Listen, I have a favor to ask – a loan of a few thousand dollars, if you wouldn't mind.” He paused and listened for the response. “No, it's not for me. It's for another friend – a charming lady I know.”

It was tempting to ignore the woman's demand for the return of the money he had borrowed. In other circumstances he might have done just that, simply playing for time and letting so much of it pass that the loan and the fury associated with it would disappear. But this woman was someone who might come in handy again, he reasoned, and this was a relationship that was worth salvaging. Who knew when extra cash might become necessary? So Theo did what he often did in these circumstances. He sought out another friend to repay the first debt, borrowing from Peter to pay Paul, as the saying went.

“That's wonderful!” Theo replied to the good news on the other end of the line. “I'll pay you back. I promise. And when I get back from my business trip, we must go out for a drink. It's on me.” He laughed out loud and hung up the phone, sitting back for another minute before reaching over to dial the telephone once more. He needed to begin to inform colleagues and clients that he would be going away in March.

As he connected with one colleague after another, he reflected again on the details of his upcoming trip. There was one part of the Reeser family saga that troubled him deeply, though it was something that he had not mentioned to Karl. The involvement of the Canadian embassy complicated things in many ways, some of which Theo himself couldn't foresee. If the paintings had still been hidden with Jan Pekárek, Theo knew that he would have been able to go into Prague, secure them from Jan, and get them out of the country using the resources he frequently mobilized for these ventures. It would not be so simple, however, to slip the art out of the embassy. Theo knew all too well that the secret police and other watchdogs had regular surveillance on embassies throughout Prague, alert to any material or information that was coming or going. It wasn't the paintings themselves that might be under suspicion, though their value would certainly make them desirable. What heightened the danger here was the possible belief on the part of the Communists that the paintings might be a front for some elaborate espionage ring – that they might be a cover for other more important documentation that might be smuggled out of Czechoslovakia and into the hands of the enemy. America was already considered to be a foe of the state, and Canada was not far behind the U.S. in terms of the suspicion attached to it.

The Communists would very likely assume that hidden somewhere within the canvases were microchips containing information about their government. That was why the embassy would be a difficult site from which to extricate Karl's property. Any movement of goods would be watched and subject to seizure. And even if the secret police found nothing concealed within the paintings, the artwork itself would be destroyed in the search, and Theo would certainly be jailed for his involvement. The stakes here were higher than Theo had ever faced, and he would have to be more alert and more vigilant than ever before.

He wondered briefly about the fact that Karl had suggested that his mail might be tampered with – that letters had arrived resealed. Should he worry about that? Probably not, though it was worth keeping in mind. The one thing that reassured him in all of this was that as dangerous as the Communists could be on the one hand, they were also bumbling fools on the other, easily seduced with the promise of money or favors, and Theo could muster plenty of both. He rose from the bed and glanced again at the bedside table where the advance from Karl was safely tucked away. For now, all he wanted to do was put his worries aside and focus on his plans for the upcoming trip. It was worth all of his attention.

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

Prague, March 15, 1990

THEO'S PLANE touched down in Prague one month after his first meeting with Karl in Toronto. He gathered his belongings to disembark in the city of his birth, joining the column of foreigners passing through customs inspection. He glanced to one side, noting the conspicuous presence of several men in dark coats eyeing the line of travelers, their faces impassive and yet intrusive at the same time. There was no mistaking the secret police.
No wonder people here sleep with one eye open
, Theo thought as he shifted his carry-on bag to the other shoulder and prepared his Canadian passport and the other necessary documents as his line wound closer to the official at the front. When he was finally motioned forward, he greeted the customs guard in his native language, speaking Czech naturally and with ease. The border official raised an eye curiously.

“What is the nature of your trip?” he asked, his voice and stare penetrating.

There is nothing subtle about these guards
, thought Theo.
They enjoy using their position of power to intimidate citizens and visitors alike.
Theo returned the stare, though being careful to show a measured respect for the man.
No need to provoke
. “I'm here on business,” he replied, evenly and cordially.

“And the nature of your business?”

“Art. I'm here to purchase paintings for some clients in Canada – with the permission of the National Gallery, of course. Canadians love European artwork,” he added, leaning in and smiling slightly as he turned on the charm. “They have nothing in the West that compares with ours.”

The guard paused briefly and then nodded his head in agreement.
Bait extended and received
, thought Theo happily as the official stamped his passport and motioned him through. “Enjoy your stay,” he added.

Theo returned the welcome with an exaggerated and derisive salute. The guard didn't seem to notice.

Luggage in tow, he hailed a cab to take him to the Aria Hotel, a beautiful historical residence in the Castle district, and the place he regularly frequented on his trips to Prague. En route, he glanced out the window, taking stock of the city. There was a mystical quality here that always seized Theo in the initial minutes of his arrival. Prague was a city built on legends and magic. Horror films often mentioned Prague as the birthplace of vampires. Every street in the old town had its ghosts, every castle was haunted, every church claimed a poltergeist. The people of Prague often asserted that the streets moved around. Gates would suddenly appear in a wall leading to a never-before-seen garden. Spires were alleged to materialize on the top of towers. There was even said to be a house at the end of Golden Lane in the Castle district that appeared only on certain nights and marked the bridge between what could be seen and what was invisible. Theo never for a minute believed that the streets of Prague could really move. Prague was, after all, a city full of alleyways, manifold steps, and little-known detours. The most seasoned traveler could easily become disoriented in the maze. But the mystery of this place did captivate him and fed his belief in all things spiritual.

“Ah, Mr. Král. Welcome back!” The desk clerk of the hotel greeted Theo like an old friend.

“It's nice to see you again,” replied Theo. “Is my usual room ready?”

“Of course,” the clerk said, nodding courteously. “And I've provided a nice bottle of red wine for you as well,” he added, knowing that there would be a substantial tip waiting for him at the end of Theo's stay if all was in order. “How long will you be with us this time?”

“A week, if all goes as planned,” Theo said. “I'll need to rent a car while I'm here.”

The clerk nodded. “I'll arrange to have one here for you tomorrow morning. Let me know if there is anything else I can get for you.”

At that, Theo chuckled. There was usually little to be had in Prague unless you had sources in the black market – which he did. With money and connections, anything was attainable: fine wine, good food, even beautiful women. But that would have to wait until his business was done.

He deposited his luggage in his room and sank down onto the bed, reaching into his pocket to remove a small address book. Flipping through the pages, he finally reached the name he was looking for. Then he lifted the telephone receiver and asked the front desk to dial the local number.

“Hello! It's Theo Král,” he exclaimed when the line was answered. “Yes, I'm here for a few days and would like to meet. Shall we say four this afternoon? I have an interesting project I'm working on.” He paused, listening to the reply. “Yes, I knew you would find that intriguing. See you soon.”

He had a few hours to kill before his appointment and he lay back on the bed to rest, closing his eyes and taking a long, deep breath. But sleep would not come. There were too many details facing Theo over the next few days – a labyrinth of minutiae that his mind was working through, challenging even
his
penchant for order. Dizzy with facts and particulars, he finally sat up. Perhaps a walk would be a better way to clear his head.

It was cold outside and so damp that the air felt wet against his face. Instinctively, he pulled the collar of his coat up to protect his neck and bent his head forward against the moist wind. The city seemed endlessly bleak beneath a blockade of low, dense clouds. But, despite the dreary weather, there was a sense of fresh developments here. You could see it in the new constructions which had picked up since Theo's last trip to Prague. And you could sense it in the anticipation on the faces of the citizens who raced past on the city streets. Czechoslovakia was gearing up for its first democratic elections since 1946. But it was hard to imagine how the country would achieve full democratization. The Communist hold on the country was extensive. Social, economic, environmental, and other problems had accumulated over forty years of oppressive rule. Things felt uncertain, as if people didn't know what to expect but hoped for the best. But Theo couldn't be distracted by any of this. He had a job to do. Besides, it really didn't matter to him one way or the other how the politics of the country might evolve.

BOOK: Restitution
13.15Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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