The Painted Messiah (24 page)
The smaller man stepped forward and shook hands, 'Kemp.' His hand was small but the grip was brutal. For just a moment, his gaze settled on Ethan as if taking his measure.
'We'd like to talk to you about a few things,' Detective Zimmer explained.
'What kind of things?'
Sean ripped apart a cardboard box, and both men looked up in apparent surprise. 'Is someone here?' Zimmer asked.
'My business partner.'
'Ask him to come down,' Kemp said. There was nothing pleasant in the way he spoke. An abrupt language at times, German speakers habitually dropped in phrases of courtesy, such as
if you would be so kind, may I ask you, if it is no great trouble
. When he had first studied the language, Ethan had been amused by the artificial pleasantries. After close to a decade of living and working with the language, he understood Kemp's command pretended neither respect nor courtesy. It had all the charm of, 'Get his ass down here now!' Swiss police officers never talked like that.
Ethan studied both men with sudden dread. He thought Zimmer might soften the command, as the Swiss are prone to help others with their lack of manners, but Zimmer seemed as oblivious to the insult as his partner. 'Sean?' he called in English, his voice trembling. 'Could you come down here for a minute?'
Sean leaned over the railing and called out in English. 'Sure. What's up?'
'A couple of detectives,' Ethan answered.
Sean spoke to the men cheerfully in Swiss German. Neither man responded. He spoke again as he came around to the open stairway. Ethan could not quite understand this, but it had something to do with transferring the title to the business. Again neither man answered and it occurred to Ethan that the Swiss detectives did not understand Swiss German.
He wanted to shout some kind of warning but Sean was already down the steps.
Kemp pulled a gun. A silencer was screwed into it. 'Get over by the cash register,' he told Sean in High German.
Sean swore angrily and blurted something out in Swiss German. Ethan told him in English, 'Do what they say. It's a robbery. All they want is money.'
He didn't believe it. He was quite certain now that this had nothing to do with money - at least the money in the till.
'Have you got an office where we can talk?' Zimmer asked Ethan.
Ethan glanced once at his friend. 'Upstairs,' he answered.
'Let's go take a look at it.'
The big man pulled his own silenced pistol. Ethan started to protest that Sean wasn't involved, but the utter indifference in the man's eyes stopped him. He turned away and started for the stairs. He was now quite certain he would never walk down them again. Ethan was nearly to the top step when he heard the suppressed blast of a silenced weapon discharging. This was followed by the sound of Sean's body dropping to the floor and the curious tinkle of a discharged shell. Just that quickly and it was over for his friend.
Without really thinking about the consequences Ethan dropped his elbow back, sweeping his forearm across Zimmer's nose. The big man grabbed his face reflexively. When he did, Ethan kicked him in the chest. Zimmer went rolling backwards down the steps. Kemp got one shot off from behind the counter. Ethan heard the bullet pass with a crack. A second shot followed as he somersaulted between two bookcases.
Along each side of the balcony there were fifteen rows of open shelf bookcases placed tightly together with barely enough space for customers to slip in and
look at the books. At either end of the room Ethan had set up another four cases. At the top of the stairs, a small aisle led back to his office, but once there he would be trapped. He looked across the room. Better, he thought, to stay here. The bookcases gave him cover. Not that it really mattered. They had guns. He had nothing but time.
And that was running out.
They used Helena Chernoff at the front door. Helena looked like a freshly scrubbed upper middle-class German housewife. She even had a bit of middle-aged perkiness in her step when she bothered. She wore a loose fitting shell that covered her armored vest, black stretch pants and running shoes - just another weekend resident from the north invading the tiny mountain villages of southern Switzerland. She came hurrying up the winding stairs of the public walkway in front of Lady Kenyon's property and hesitated. There were two small cabins from which to choose. Helena glanced behind her nervously and started up the incline to Lady Kenyon's front door.
A six man team covered the back of Kenyon's property, three in the cabin next to Kenyon's, three more in the woods. Helena was alone in the front. Her backup was the man who was supposed to be following her. Xeno waited in the house across the street. Everyone carried two guns, one loaded with rubber bullets - for knock-down, if necessary - the second with tranquilizers. In addition, Helena had stun
capacity in the sleeve of her jacket. If Helen couldn't get Lady Kenyon to open the door, Xeno would order the team at the back of the cabin to break in, but Helena was the first and best option. Lady in distress.
The first sign of a problem was Lady Kenyon's failure to open the front door for the innocent-looking Helena. Helena paced nervously, calling out in German as she knocked on the door, 'Hello! Is anyone home? Please! There is a man following me!'
Nothing. Kenyon was inside. They knew that much. The silence continued until Xeno whispered his orders. 'Back door, get ready!'
Helena called out with a touch of desperation. 'Can you help me?'
Lady Kenyon's cabin was typical of the area. It was built about two hundred years ago of thick timbers and roofed with grey fieldstones. It stood at the back edge of the village with a view to the valley and mountains beyond. Behind her property a steep rocky alpine meadow spread out for a couple hundred metres, then turned into a pine forest that was really only accessible by a single trail. If she got that far, the third team was waiting.
There had been some difficulty moving into position because of the openness behind the house, but the evening before Xeno had quietly installed his people in two houses. The first was below Kenyon's place, directly across a narrow road. From here Xeno directed the take-down. The other was next door to Kenyon's property.
'We have the back secure,' the back door team leader's voice announced over the headset.
'Hold your position.'
Xeno watched Helena's act at the front of the house with growing frustration. She moved with a skittering nervousness, calling again for help, and making a show of looking back toward the village as her backup came into view and walked menacingly toward her. He had been living on the streets on and off for the last couple of years, and looked it. He was not the sort of man a woman wanted following her.
Xeno gave it a count of five. When Kenyon did not open her door, he spoke into his headset. 'Take it down!'
Helena moved away from the front on the order and covered the side of the house. Xeno could see nothing, but he heard his two men enter the cabin. One of them shouted in High German, 'Police! You are under arrest!'
The second whispered to Xeno after a moment, 'She's gone!'
'She can't be gone! She's inside!' he answered. 'I'm telling you—'
Four gunshots sounded from within the cabin, and Xeno shouted to the others, 'Take cover!'
Zürich
Ethan heard footsteps on the stairs and saw Zimmer moving carefully. He did not appear to be sure of Ethan's position. Once he was off the stairs, he took cover among the bookcases. Maybe he imagined Ethan had a gun concealed up here somewhere. Kemp called to his partner in a language Ethan did not recognize,
Slavic, he thought. In response Zimmer dropped back toward the outside wall. At that point Ethan lost sight of him. Fearing the wall was no longer safe, he stepped to the railing. Kemp came out of the stacks below him and fired twice. The suppressed sound of his gun was barely audible. He shouted something and Ethan realized he was directing his partner forward. Having neither the railing nor the outside wall, Ethan scrambled for the other end of the room. Below him Kemp manoeuvred into a new position, firing four rounds without effect.
At the far end of the room Ethan slipped back toward the wall. He checked behind him and then ran forward but Zimmer had circled in the opposite direction and was waiting for him. From the length of the room, nearly eighty feet, his first shot would have been the end of it if Ethan had not somersaulted forward. He came up between two bookcases. Moving out to the railing, hoping to get across the room, he discovered Kemp had anticipated him.
Ethan rolled back to safety as Kemp fired three shots. Kemp called out again. No translation needed: We have him! Ethan had only a few feet of safety to either side. Once Zimmer came forward even that would disappear. The only hope, the only direction left, was up. The bookcases were eight feet high, their shelves made of half-inch thick poplar. He climbed them as easily as he would a ladder and got to the top shelf while Zimmer walked down the long aisle fearlessly. They knew now he didn't have a gun, and it was clear they had him trapped in a narrow aisle between two bookcases - both of his exits closed off.
Kemp shouted something from below, but if he saw what Ethan was trying to do, it didn't really matter. There were no other options. Zimmer came forward with his gun pointing at the floor, his eyes fixed on the space directly below Ethan. He started to look up as Ethan dropped across his shoulders. Zimmer collapsed under the force of Ethan's impact. As they fell, Ethan slammed Zimmer's head into the brick wall.
Kemp shouted again, but Zimmer was out cold - his head bleeding. Ethan rolled off him and found his pistol. Taking it and the spare clip inside his sports coat pocket, Ethan walked toward the railing quickly and quietly, tossing a book over the bookcases so it would land well away from his new position. It was all he needed.
As he stepped to the railing, Ethan could see Kemp following the sound of the book with his weapon, both arms locked in a shooter's V. With his second hand bracing his wrist, Ethan fired once and watched Kemp flinch as if hit. He rolled back to safety as Ethan fired twice more. From the shelves below, Kemp responded with a heavy barrage, driving Ethan to the outer wall. Ethan could hear Kemp change clips. He came forward quickly, hoping to catch the man exposed, but the room appeared to be empty. Ethan checked on Zimmer. The big man was sprawled out, just as Ethan had left him. He retreated to the end of the room, waiting, listening.
He came out quickly again. Kemp was still not to be seen. Hiding? Wounded? Dead? Ethan held the railing for as long as he dared, then retreated, moving along the outer wall on tiptoes. He went to the railing again,
firing a single round to either side of the room below him, hoping to draw return fire, but Kemp remained concealed. Ethan held his position only briefly before he backed away.
He was about to persuade himself to try the stairs when he saw something that turned his guts to water.
Kate swung down from the thick rafters and checked her front window. The woman was gone, but the man she had claimed was chasing her was in Kate's front lawn scrambling for cover. She settled her gun sights on his broad chest and fired three rounds. Dropping her clip, she reloaded and headed for the back door. Stepping through the open door, Kate saw a fourth man at the side of her house and fired twice - both shots striking. Moving along the wall of her house away from the fallen man, Kate swung into the narrow alley between her cabin and a grain storage shed. Leading with her Navy Colt, she expected to see the woman but was disappointed. She turned and saw the man she had shot pointing his gun at her. She fired two shots instinctively, catching a shoulder and then his head.
They were wearing armor. The two men inside the house were dead, but the one in the front. . . probably not. And the woman? She was gone for the moment but might be circling the house to come in between Kate and the only direct trail into the forest. Her best chance was to get to the trees before they could flank her position. If she got that far, she could beat them no
matter how many people they threw at her. Moving quickly across the open ground, Kate took the hill without looking back. Against a handgun she thought she could be out of range in a matter of seconds.
She did not see the woman, but she heard the gunshot behind her as she fell. On the ground, her hip on fire from the wound, Kate saw the woman coming toward her. Only then did Kate realize she had lost her Navy Colt. She sat up, scouring the ground for it. She felt dizzy. Brushing her hip, Kate felt the dart just before her eyes rolled back and the grey sky began to turn.
Her last thought terrified her as nothing had done since the death of her husband: Corbeau wanted her alive.
Zürich
Smoke came up through the airshaft at the centre of the room. Ethan could still breathe easily, but he tasted it already. Instinctively, he looked up. From the rafters to the skylight to the rooftop: the smoke would soon be thick enough that Kemp might not see him climbing out. He saw Zimmer staggering along the outer wall - across the room from him.
Zimmer was not looking for Ethan. He was getting out of a burning building. Ethan looked down. The ground floor of the bookstore had been swallowed up entirely in smoke. In a matter of minutes he would have no choice but to try to move - either down or up. He had installed the skylights himself and recalled the salesman telling him they weren't burglar proof, nothing was, but they were the safest on the market. At the time that had seemed like a good thing.
