The Astronomical Clock of Prague, or Orloj, features two vertically stacked and richly appointed dials — each colored predominantly in shades of blue with intricate gold detailing. It was crafted and installed in 1410 by the combined talents of a clockmaker and mathematician. Even to the untrained eye, it is obvious that the Orloj is much more than a traditional clock. The upper dial, in addition to keeping the local time, also displays the times for sunrise and sunset, ancient Czech time, and the celestial movements of the sun, moon, and zodiac constellations. The lower dial is a calendar with elaborate inset paintings representing each of the twelve months.
A cast of colorful wooden puppets comes alive every hour animating the clock’s exterior: Vanity — forever admiring himself in a mirror; The Miser — shaking his bag of gold; Death — with his signaling bell; and the Turk — with his flute. Even more renown than the four animated figures is the Walk of the Apostles. Each hand-carved wooden apostle is as large as a man, dons a halo, and carries a unique symbol in hand. Every hour, on the hour, the twelve apostles parade in succession through two wooden doors that open above the upper clock dial — six apostles walking from the right, six from the left.
It took Will a moment of study before he could decipher the complicated clock dial. Eventually he ascertained the time: 1:57 AM. He looked from side to side, scanning the area for a five-foot-five, hardly inconspicuous blonde. Not finding her, he wandered over toward a darkened restaurant, Café Milena, which was directly opposite the Orloj. He took a seat at one of the many empty chairs left outside by the evening manager.
It was amazing. Even at the late hour, people still congregated, waiting to watch the Walk of the Apostles. So he sat, watching them watch the clock. After a few minutes of sitting, legs extended and comfortably crossed at the ankle, he began to relax.
It wouldn’t be long now, he mused.
His eyelids suddenly felt heavy.
She should arrive any second.
His head began to bob.
He couldn’t wait to see her.
And as the Orloj struck two, and the apostles began to march, he fell asleep.
Chapter Nine
“Yes, Ms. Morley, I did exactly as you instructed, but Mr. Zurn says that terminating his services is not an option. He says he wants to speak with you directly,” Meredith’s executive assistant Cynthia reported nervously.
“First of all, there is no ‘me’ to speak to. He is just trying to manipulate you. Second, the terms of Mr. Zurn’s employment are not his decision to make. He and his brother failed miserably and now they’re fired. It’s that simple. Thank him for his efforts, tell him he may keep the first installment as severance, and reiterate that we no longer require his assistance. After you’ve hung up, terminate the VoIP account so he can longer contact us. And just to be safe, reformat the hard drive on the notebook computer you’ve been using,” Meredith said.
“Umm, Ms. Morley, he didn’t call the VoIP number. He called the office directly. Mr. Zurn is holding on line one and he asked to speak to you by name.”
Meredith shifted her gaze to the Polycom phone on her desk. Her heartbeat quickened, falling into cadence with the rapidly blinking red LED light next to the line one button. Were she not battle-hardened, she would have gasped. Instead, she flashed Cynthia a glib smile and picked up the handset.
“Mr. Zurn, it seems your dossier needs to be updated. I had no idea you possessed such IT prowess.”
“No, no. I can’t take credit for this. Hacking is a form of art, and an artist I’m not. But the true measure of a man’s utility is not what he knows, but who he knows,” Raimond Zurn bantered.
“If you have such a vast talent pool to recruit from, then please explain to me how a man who is practically on his death bed, with no clothes, no money, and no resources not only outwits you, but also out-muscles you?”
“The intelligence you provided me with was wrong. He has clothes, and money. And he is far from on his deathbed. Foster is not a man to be underestimated. Your misrepresentation of the target’s capabilities is to blame for the failure in our first encounter.”
“Excuses are for amateurs. I hired you because of your reputation for discretion and efficiency. A wrestling match in the middle of Old Town Prague is hardly what I had in mind. Let’s cut through the bullshit, shall we? You had your chance, and you blew it. Your services are no longer required, Mr. Zurn.”
“Be careful not to confuse your world, with its lawyers and paper contracts, with mine. Our agreement was made in the underworld — think of it as a blood pact. You hired me, but you can’t fire me. I never agreed to any time limit. Bounty hunting is not child’s play; it is not paint by numbers. You will get your prize back, and you will pay the negotiated fee… in its entirety.”
Meredith swallowed, trying to maintain her composure. Zurn was willful, motivated, and nefarious. By circumventing her firewalls and piercing her veil of anonymity, he also demonstrated more prowess than she had given him credit for. She suspected that her personal safety would be at risk if she crossed him. Best to keep the viper’s fangs pointed at somebody else. She cleared her throat.
“Everybody deserves a second chance, I suppose. What do you intend to do now?”
“I need to broaden the search radius. Europe is not like it used to be. Foster will be able to travel easily between countries if he stays inside the European Union. Once he is on the move, I may have to hire additional resources, and that means more money.”
“Under no circumstance can he leave the Czech Republic. With every passing hour, with each mile of ground he covers, the probability of locating him plummets. Your failure left me no choice but to make the Czech government aware of certain details of the situation. Official efforts are underway to locate and quarantine Foster. The Czech national police and INTERPOL are now involved. Border checkpoints are being set up on all the major roads. If he tries to board a train or airplane out of the country, he’ll be detained,” she said.
“This complicates things considerably,” the bounty hunter said. “What if the Czechs apprehend Foster before I do?”
“Then you’ll need to orchestrate a kidnapping and take him back.”
“If he is placed in military quarantine, that will be impossible.”
“You’re the one who refuses to quit. So I suppose that makes it your problem.”
“No, Ms. Morley, it’s yours. We tried playing by your rules and things didn’t work out. From this point forward, we do business my way, using my methods.”
She felt a knot form in her stomach. Who the hell did Zurn think he was, dictating terms to her? He was working for her, not the other way around. “You listen to me — I want Foster alive and unharmed. That is nonnegotiable.”
“Maybe you didn’t hear me. The arrangement has changed. You’ll take Foster in whatever condition we deliver him. He’ll be alive, but that’s the only promise I’ll make,” Zurn snarled. “By the way, if you get any ideas about withholding payments or trying to cross me, well, let’s just say your dirty little secret will no longer be a secret. When the journalists at the BBC and CNN hear about this, they’ll jump at the chance to help. Just think, with the power of broadcast media, and an army of concerned European citizens helping, your precious Foster will be located in no time. Maybe you’ll even be interviewed on television.”