17
Shortly after his return to Amsterdam, Ariel sat at his station in the Immigration area behind a high white desk surrounded on three sides by glass. He faced a flood of passengers who had to be cleared before they could leave Schiphol and walk into Amsterdam. He had been an agent for so long that his mind today, as on most days, was on autopilot.
He thought about his life. He had always wanted to become a musician. His lifelong hobby had been playing the saxophone in jazz bands around Amsterdam. He had desperately wanted to study at the music conservatory and had asked Isaac to contribute part of the tuition. All he got was the skeptical, stubborn look Isaac had given him when he spoke of his future.
No,
Isaac had said.
I’ve been an immigration officer all my life. Isn’t that good enough for you? Haven’t I always provided for my family?
In the end, Ariel followed in his father’s footsteps but castigated himself for his weakness. He had tried to keep playing with the band, but it meant late nights and lousy pay, and when he married Leah, he gave it up. Last year he had given his saxophone to a friend. It felt as if he had cut off his arm.
At least he had kept up his martial arts. It gave him a physical outlet and the grueling bouts reassured him that he was strong, that he did have some control, that he could use it if he needed it. It also gave him respite from mourning Isaac and the awful fear he felt about being found out and losing Rose. The only other thing he still did outside work was coach a Little League soccer team with Peter, his best friend and brother-in-law. He wanted so badly to confide in someone, to tell him about Rose, Isaac’s murder, the whole mess. The pressure he felt was maddening. Maybe Peter could just listen. He had discussed it with Leah, but they had agreed not to tell anyone.
How could Ariel risk it? No, they first had to settle into their new life with Rose and let some time pass until he felt that he would not be found, arrested, jailed.
God, he couldn’t think about it anymore!
Instead, he remembered the small trips he and Leah had taken around Holland, walking and occasionally visiting the graveyards of important writers. Both were well-read and, odd as it seemed, they enjoyed looking at the tombstones, which often revealed personal tidbits about the authors. But now Leah was consumed with taking care of Rose and had little time for him.
So he had spent the days since his return in boredom, looking at passports, checking that the face matched the photo and ensuring that the passenger was not on the daily list of criminals or those trying to sneak into the Netherlands illegally. Over the years, he had caught a number of such types, smiling calmly at them while he pressed the security button under his desk. The reaction when the guard arrived was always the same.
Who? Me? There must be a mistake!
Ariel would shake his head. Did they really believe that, in 1980, the international immigration systems were blind? But there was always someone who thought he could beat the system.
As he went through the motions, beckoning passengers, checking and then waving them through, Ariel thought about Leah. His heart lifted. Every touch of Rose’s skin, every burbly smile, brought a look of delight to Leah’s face that he had never seen before. As the days passed, a silent agreement unfolded between them. She did not ask him what he had done to try to return Rose and he didn’t raise the subject.
But Amarisa had increasingly taken over. She demanded that Rose spend every other day with her. She did not disclose what she did with the child, but every time they returned, Rose sported a new outfit. Amarisa always seemed to be on the hunt for some baby accessory, such as the speaker device that let Ariel or Leah hear her from the nursery. And now Amarisa gave them even more money each month and had bought them a used
Daf
so they wouldn’t have to rely on public transportation if Rose got sick. Amarisa had given a large deposit to a prestigious preschool with a long waiting line. By the time Rose was old enough, she would have a place. Amarisa had also begun a college fund for her and intended to see that she was properly educated.
No matter how uncomfortable Ariel was with Amarisa’s newfound generosity, he had to accept it. Leah had quit her job to care for Rose. Without Amarisa’s bounty, they could never have stayed in Amsterdam, the most expensive city in Holland.
Amarisa had also insisted that she be responsible for drawing up legal documents that confirmed Rose was their legitimate daughter. She had made it clear that this was contingent upon their agreement that she be named as Rose’s guardian with power of attorney over any decisions about Rose’s future. Ariel had no idea how she did it, but within a week, Amarisa had handed him a passport in the name of “Jacoba Rachel Rosen,” as well as a fake birth certificate. Ariel knew from Isaac that Amarisa dealt with shady characters in the diamond trade, but he had never asked for details and she never told.
Ariel had signed the papers.
What choice did he have?
She could blow the whistle on him any time she chose. Maybe if he curried her favor, she would let them have more say in Rose’s life.
Would she try to take her from them?
Ariel couldn’t bear to think about it.
When they first brought Rose home, Ariel had explained to their friends and neighbors that Jacoba had come to them by way of a private adoption. Everyone was thrilled for them. An impromptu baby shower had followed. Amarisa had insisted upon attending, grasping Rose tightly in her arms and glowering from the couch. For Ariel and Leah, the celebration made it real. They finally had a daughter.
He now brought his mind into the present. The next passenger walked from behind the red waiting line and handed him her passport. He looked at it briefly and raised his stamp. Then the name jumped out at him.
Nora de Jong.
His heart lurched as he looked up at the woman.
Could it be?
He gripped the passport to keep his hands from shaking as he checked the date of birth. It fit. When he saw the Houston address, he felt sweat snake down the back of his neck.
The same fucking address! But Abram’s daughter? What in hell was she doing here?
He could barely breathe.
Had he made a mistake? Left a clue that led her to him? To Rose?
Now he stared at her. Tall and thin, her black hair thick and unruly—just like his. His cousin! Damn it, he thought he saw the resemblance—dark eyes, high cheekbones, the slight dimple of his father’s chin. He looked down at the passport, but it swam before him.
God, what should he do?
When he looked up, he saw her eyes dart from him to the exit.
“Is there a problem, Officer?”
Ariel felt nauseous. He managed to clear his throat. “Are you here on business or pleasure?”
“Pleasure,” she said.
He picked up a pen. “And where will you be staying?”
“In Amsterdam.”
“Address, please?”
“Is that really necessary?”
He shrugged. “New security policy.”
She shook her head. “Prinsengracht 353.”
He nodded briskly, wrote down the address and made a copy of her passport photo. She seemed too distracted to notice that this was unusual. Finally he stamped her passport and watched her stride to collect her luggage. Another arriving passenger walked toward him. Ariel waved him over to an adjacent line and put the closed sign on his countertop. He signaled a colleague who was on break.
“Ron,” he said hurriedly. “I just got a message that my father is ill. Could you take over for me?”
“Of course,” he said. “I hope it’s nothing serious.”
Ariel hurriedly gathered his things, then looked at his colleague. “I’m afraid it’s a matter of life and death.”
He almost ran to the airport exit, breathing heavily, not from exertion but terror.
What could he do to keep her from finding him—and Rose? What if she already knew? He caught a tram and couldn’t wait for the passengers to board.
Was there a way he could frighten her enough to go home without revealing himself? And if that didn’t work, what then?
18
Ariel slammed the door behind him. The apartment had never been such a welcome sight. The white couch against the window, the coffee table covered with magazines, the antique dining table. “Leah! Where are you?”
Leah came running from the nursery. “Shh! The baby is sleeping. What’s wrong?”
Ariel tried to calm himself. “The baby’s mother—she’s here!”
Leah’s eyes widened. “How do you know?”
“She came through Immigration. I saw her passport.”
“But why—?”
“I don’t know, but she must have found out something!”
“Oh, Ariel! Do you think she knows it was you? Will she be coming here? What do we do?”
Ariel pulled her down on the couch next to him. His hands were shaking. “I don’t know. Maybe we should just take the baby and leave until we’re sure she’s gone.”
“We have to give her back! The police could be on their way right now!
Ariel wanted to cry. “Is that what you want to do?”
“Of course not!” Tears slid down Leah’s cheeks. “But we have to—I told you that.”
“We don’t know what she knows. Maybe I can find out, follow her, see what she’s up to.”
“What good will that do?”
Ariel vigorously shook his head, jumped up and paced the room. “I don’t know. I have to come up with a plan. We can’t just give her up. You love her, too, don’t you?”
“Oh, God, of course I do.”
“Then let’s not panic. I’ll get a leave from work and follow her. I have the address where she’s staying. Maybe I can scare her off.”
Leah glanced at her watch. “Amarisa! She’ll be here any minute to pick up Rose. What do we tell her?”
“Nothing. Not until we know more.”
“She’ll be furious if she finds out we’ve kept this from her.”
“God only knows what she’ll do if she thinks the baby may be taken away. I can’t deal with her right now. We’ll act as if everything is fine.”
Ariel heard Rose cry. Leah stood and wiped away her tears. “I don’t know how you think you can scare her off. It’s crazy.” She hurried to the nursery.
Ariel collapsed on the couch, his head in his hands.
Now what? How in hell can I make this go away? I can’t take Rose from Leah. It’ll kill her. And where could we go? What would we live on?
The doorbell rang.
“Shit.”
When he opened the door, Amarisa pushed a new stroller into the foyer. It was sleek, navy blue, state-of-the-art.
“Look! I just bought this for my sweet little girl.” Ariel would never get used to seeing Amarisa smile. She looked up at him when he did not reply. “Why are you here? Shouldn’t you be working?”
“I...took a day off.”
Her dark eyes narrowed as she studied him. “Something is wrong. What is it?”
“Nothing.”
Leah walked into the room carrying Rose. Her eyes were red and tears rolled down her cheeks. “
Dag,
Amarisa.”
Amarisa pushed the stroller against the wall, took Rose from Leah’s arms and laid her gently down. The stroller was so deep Ariel couldn’t even see Rose burrowed somewhere beneath the covers. Then Amarisa faced them both with her bony arms crossed. “
Vooruit.
I want to know what’s going on. Is someone sick?”
“Everything is fine, Amarisa,” said Ariel.
The old woman stared at Leah. “Talk.”
A sob broke from Leah. “It’s the baby—her mother—” She ran from the room.
Ariel started after her, but Amarisa grabbed his arm. “Don’t make me get it out of her. You know I will.”
He shook her off. “Damn it, it’s none of your business.”
“What is it about the mother?”
Ariel felt his shoulders sag. She would find out, anyway. “She’s here. In Amsterdam.”
She looked aghast, then turned hard. “Does she know you have Jacoba?”
“I don’t know.” He felt so fucking miserable. “Leah wants to give the baby back—”
“Absolutely not.” Her words were whips. “She is our legacy, Abram’s and Isaac’s.”
“But Amarisa, what can we do?” He hated his whining.
Why couldn’t he stand up to her?
Amarisa walked over to the stroller, leaned down and gave Rose a soft kiss. When she straightened, she glared at Ariel. “
We
aren’t going to do anything.”
“What do you mean?”
“I’m taking Rose with me—permanently. I’ll protect her, give her a wonderful home, nannies, private schools, a proper place in society. And I’ll never let her forget her ancestry.”
“You can’t take her—she’s ours!”
“Yours?” A harsh laugh. “The
kidnapper?
The accomplice to
murder?
Don’t fuck with me, Ariel. If you so much as come near Jacoba, I’ll call the police and tell them that you confessed to murdering that bitch and stealing her grandchild.”
“You wouldn’t!
Please, Amarisa—
”
“You pathetic coward,” she sneered. “Where is the bitch staying?”
What would she do if he told her?
“I don’t know.”
“You’re lying! I can always tell. Your upper lip twitches.”
Ariel pressed his lips together. “That’s ridiculous.”
Amarisa pointed a bony finger at him. “The address, you moron!”
“Go to hell, Amarisa! Why do you want it?”
“None of your business.” She waved her arm around the room. “You want to keep this lovely apartment, don’t you? The car? What a shame if it all suddenly disappeared.”
Ariel felt the humiliation she always brought out in him. “Why do you want to know?”
“None of your business.”
“No.”
“Ariel, we’re in this together. Just give me the address.”
He sighed. “Prinsengracht 353.”
“What is her name?”
“Nora de Jong,” he said. “But what will you do? She may already know I took her. And if the police find me, I’ll tell them where Rose is, where you are!”
“Surely you haven’t forgotten how very rich I am,” she hissed. “I have more than enough money to protect Jacoba from you and that woman. If necessary, I will take her out of the country. You’ll never see her again.”
“Please, Amarisa—”
“Shut up. Do you have a photo of her?”
Ariel turned away. “No.”
“Idiot. Just give it to me.”
“No, I won’t!” He turned to Amarisa. “If you don’t tell me what you’re planning, I won’t help you.”
“What if she finds out where Rose is? Without a photo, how will I know what she looks like?”
Ariel hesitated and then walked to his desk and removed the copy of Nora’s passport photo from the bottom drawer. He thrust it at her.
She snatched it, stuck it into a fold of Rose’s blanket and then fixed him with a searing look. “Is there anything else you’re lying about?”
“Leave me alone.”
“What are you going to do, just sit here and wait to be arrested?”
“And what is your grand plan?”
She shook a bony finger at him. “Don’t forget I know important people in this city. Judges, Cabinet ministers—they’ve all bought diamonds from me. All it would take is one phone call and you’d go to jail. And never see Rose again.”
Ariel knew all she said was true. Amsterdam was the largest diamond center in the world. She had been in the trade for almost forty years and had forged relationships with people in high places. “Stop threatening me, Amarisa. I’m not your puppet.”
“Just get rid of this woman!” she snapped.
“But how?”
“Use your brain. It’s in there somewhere.” She grabbed the stroller bar and flung open the door. Rose was sleeping, her little face barely peeping out of the soft pink blanket.
Ariel rushed toward them. “Give her to me!”
When he reached for the baby, Amarisa kicked him, whirled the stroller around and stormed out of the house.
Ariel stood there, cursing under his breath.
She had him. Like a fly snared in a black widow’s web.
He grabbed his coat and ran out. He would follow Rose’s mother and find out what she was up to.
And then, God help him, he’d find a way to get rid of her.