Servette told Max what Josef had found out from an Asian man named Tam who planed to bid on the emerald on behalf of a Hong Kong group.
“without being able to speak, Joseph can get more information in a short time than I can talking all the time.” The Inspector laughed. “You’re right there, my friend.”
“I will get in touch with our two Israeli friends and let them know about the auction time and make sure they know where it is to be held. I guess that’s about all we can do for now. Keep you ears open for anything else you hear from the streets and I’ll see you tonight for dinner as usual.”
Locking and dead bolting the bedroom door and making sure her computer firewall was up and running, Miriam entered the password and in a moment the computer screen displayed two rows of jumbled letters. She pressed the encryption program’s key and a plain text message scrolled across the monitor:
Emerald to be auctioned: Four Seasons Hotel des Bergue, Geneva: May 1: No other info available: Mayfly.
Miriam secured the computer, checked to make sure her jet-black pony-tail was in place, unlocked the door and humming to her self, walked down the long hotel corridor toward the bank of elevators.
“There must be a strange international company somewhere that only sells gaudy carpet to hotels. I can’t believe a designer would choose some of the carpet we walk on in hotels,” she thought. Exiting the elevator she found David in the hotel cafe eating a bagel with his coffee. Sitting opposite him she poured a cup from the pot on the table, and watched as he chewed.
“Can’t believe your found bagels in Switzerland.”
“What can I say? Guess the hotel has a Jewish baker.”
“Did Malcolm have anything special to share with us this bright blue morning?”
“Not much. He did say it might be difficult to get information from the bank about the emerald. Seems to be a vow of silence surrounding this auction.”
A waiter suddenly appeared at the table and said there was a telephone call for Mr. Cohen and the concierge would help him in the lobby.
Miriam smiled, reached for the half-eaten bagel and waved as David walked quickly toward the lobby.
Lifting the receiver, David said, “Geneva here.”
“We have a situation in Munich,” Levi responded quickly, “and I want you two there immediately. Dagger killed two of our operatives you know, Marvin and Herzog. They were working as undercover police officers in Munich. Take care of this and I don’t care how you do it.”
“We trained with those two,” David said.
“That’s why I want you on the case. Simon can back you up. I think their deaths may have a connection with Geneva.”
“Plane tickets?”
“Geneva airport, at the Lufthansa ticket counter under the name of Mr. and Mrs. Samuel Lowenstein,” replied Levi. “Give me a report as soon as feasible. Stay at the safe-house in Munich. Simon will meet you at the airport. And, by the way, they were killed in another safe house, so be careful. I’ll tell Piet where you have gone.”
Miriam threw the laptop and a few changes of clothes into a soft over-sized bag, and with David took a cab to the airport. In Munich, Simon met their plane and drove them directly to the safe house.
“This safe house hasn’t been used in a long time,” Simon said. “The sayanim have gone on their “annual vacation”. Check in with Chief, Bruno Beinschmidt. He is the head of an antiterrorist task force here in Munich h and he is being rather secretive about the murders. He doesn’t seem to be doing everything he can to solve their murders. At a news conference, he said everything was under control. Oh, and one more thing. Rumors are going around about some secret organization of skin heads causing trouble here in Munich. There are even rumors that Beinschmidt is involved somehow. I’ll work that angle. You tackle the double murder.”
With a chuckle Simon continued, “Bruno was probably fourteen pounds at birth and now weighs about two hundred and eighty. When you see him you will see why his mother named him Bruno. He likes to think he always has things under control. He’s one tough character and someone who bears watching. I don’t trust him for a minute. Here’s a number where you can reach me, day or night and it’s safe. Good luck and glad to have you onboard!”
Pulling to a stop, David and Miriam got their luggage, entered the small stone house with a sea of flowers bordering the walk up the front yard.
“You think we should call our new friend Bruno? Miriam asked.
“Just as soon as I check the house for bugs.”
“Aren’t you being a little paranoid? Simon said this place hadn’t been used as a safe house for a long time.”
And that’s why I’m going to check it out.”
After a few minutes David came back into the living room and dialed the number Simon had given them. “Chief Beinschmidt, please.”
“Just say, its friends of Levi. He will know who we are,” David answered.
After a short wait a gruff voice growled, “Where are you Israeli hot-shots?”
“In Munich, we’d like to find out more about that double Jewish killing you have just had.”
“Better not talk over the phone. Why don’t you come to my office and I’ll fill you in. But I need to tell you, we can handle everything by ourselves and I don’t like outsiders getting involved with my business. However, I will cooperate because of my friendship with Benesche, and those agents, I suspect, were part of his group.”
“When would it be convenient for you?”
“No time is convenient. Come to my office at four.” He hung up.
David relayed the conversation to Miriam.
“How did he know Marvin and Herzog worked for the Office?” she asked.
“That could be the reasons Simon thinks there is something fishy going on.”
After lunch they took a taxi took to the central Munich Police station. Waiting in the booking area for twenty minutes, a uniformed officer finally said the chief would see them in his office up-stairs. David looked at Miriam shrugged, climbed the stairs and knocked a battered door with ANTITERRORABTEILUNG painted in white letters.
A gruff voice from within shouted, “Kommen Sie herin.”
They entered the office, which was in direct contrast to Piet Servette’s, neat as a pin, everything dusted, polished, nothing out of place. A bear of a man, in a meticulous gray uniform, complete with black Sam Browne belt and a large head that looked like it had been polished like everything else in the room, sat behind a massive desk. He looked up and glowered and pointed to chairs in front of his desk.
“I have just re-read this case you’re interested in and I find several items that may be relevant.” His voice was like the rasp of a large, predatory animal, and he was obviously not very happy about having to share information with David and Miriam.
Ignoring Miriam, he turned to David. “We have an interesting situation here. It seems one of the victims was shot from a distance of more than fifty yards. The other was shot at point blank range, the first, from a rifle, the second, a 38. Why your headquarters thinks this ties in with someone you’re looking for, I have no idea. No one we have interviewed has been of any help and there are no eyewitnesses. A silencer may have been used both times. They had been dead for two hours before an anonymous female reported it. We don’t even know who she was. According to my forensic team, the victims were in their thirties, good physical shape, and found with no identification except, and I suspect you already know, they had just been hired as officers in this department. I’ll be honest with you, and believe me I have nothing against Jews, but rumors suggest that’s the reason they were killed. They were the first Jews in the Munich police force. The house where all this took place is at 401 Welschlag Street. That’s all I have to share with you.”