“What are you doing? Is that a real gun?”
“I’m asking the questions, Professor,” she snapped. “Where are these archives you talked about? The ones where the auction house records are stored.”
“What? The Landesarchiv Berlin. It’s where public records of all kinds are kept.” He spoke frantically; the words flowed out of his mouth in quick succession.
Adriana was tempted to grab a weapon out of her rucksack, but this wasn’t the place. There were too many people milling around, and a shootout on a university campus would bring too much attention. She resisted the temptation and kept her body pinned to the wall, carefully watching the interaction. She had a feeling what the brunette’s next move would be.
“Look,” Koenig tried to bargain, “I told you, I don’t know where the painting is. No one does. It’s gone. I gave up looking for it a long time ago.”
“Yeah, you said that. But I still feel like there’s something you’re not telling me.”
“What could I be withholding? If I knew where the painting was, I’d have recovered it by now.”
“Maybe. Or maybe you are protecting someone you know. So here’s what’s going to happen, Professor. You and I are going to take a little drive over to these archives you’re talking about. When we get there, you’re going to be a good boy and show me the exact paperwork you were talking about. If it’s as you said and there’s no name on the sales record, I might let you live. But if you’re lying to me…well…,” she dragged the tip of the gun across his chest and down to his pot belly, “you’re going to take a long time to die.”
4
Adriana watched through a rain-streaked windshield as the brunette escorted Koenig across the parking lot and into the two-story brick building. The city archives building had the look of an Industrial-Age factory not a place that stored important information. The only thing missing were a few smokestacks with black billows of soot-filled clouds rolling out of them.
The two targets walked through the gate and toward the front doors of the building. Adriana was about to get out of her car when a sudden vibration in her pocket froze her in place. She pulled the phone out and checked the text message. It was from Emily.
Before leaving Marseille, Adriana had sent a few images of the other thief to the Axis director and asked if the person’s identity could be uncovered. The photos weren’t great, taken from a distance when Adriana was on the move in Holland. But they were good enough.
She glanced up and back down at the phone. The message indicated that the woman she was following went by several aliases, but the one she’d used most recently was Allyson Webster. Adriana remembered seeing that among the known aliases the woman used. But there was an additional piece of information that Emily included. It turned out that Allyson had been involved in a project with Sean Wyatt and Tommy Schultz. She’d stolen something from them that Emily claimed likely had more historic value than monetary. Allyson had disappeared after the theft, returning to the shadows and never seen again.
Never again until she became my problem.
Adriana considered the implications for a moment and then let the thought go. Right now, she had to stay close. Allyson and her hostage were about to enter the building. Once inside, it would be difficult to stay close without being noticed. Adriana tugged a beanie down over her head and the top half of her ears. It wasn’t the best disguise, but it did make her look a few years younger, like a college student conducting a research project.
She stepped out of the vehicle and tucked her compact 9mm pistol into the back of her jeans. A lightweight, hooded rain jacket helped conceal the weapon. She left the rest of her belongings in the car and took off across the wet street as her quarry disappeared through the entrance. Adriana took a quick look in both directions as she jogged, light footed, through the parking area. Upon reaching the doorway, she stood up on her tiptoes and stole a glance through one of the glass panes at the top. Koenig and Allyson were walking away to the right. An information desk was directly ahead with a stout-looking, brown-haired woman sitting behind it in a black sweater.
Adriana lowered back to normal standing height and pulled the door open. She spent a few seconds in the atrium, pretending to brush off raindrops from her jacket. The precipitation had slowed, but the woman at the desk didn’t necessarily know that. For Adriana, she had to appear as if she wasn’t following the two who’d just come in.
“Hallo,” the desk worker said in a booming, almost masculine voice.
Adriana winced. She checked to the right, but Koenig and the other woman were out of sight, hidden by the atrium’s wall.
“Hallo,” Adriana replied with the German greeting. She continued to speak in the native language in a hushed tone, remaining close to the door as she pretended to search for something. “How are you today?”
“Good,” the woman replied shortly. “Is there something I can help you with?”
“No, thank you. I’m just making sure I have my phone.” She padded her left pocket and felt the device. In doing so, she leaned over a little and saw her targets disappear through the third door on the left. “Got it.”
She stepped forward cautiously and gave her most polite smile. “I’m here working on a project for one of my classes at the university, and I’m just going to look through some records.”
The building’s interior smelled of century-old dust, wood, and brick. Adriana very nearly sneezed as a result. It was a bitter contrast to the fresh, rain-cleansed air outside. She fought back the sneeze impulse and squinted, rubbing her nose vigorously.
“Ah, have you ever been here before? Do you need assistance?”
“Yes. I’ve been once or twice. But I know where I need to go, so your help isn’t necessary. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” The woman returned to reading a magazine. From Adriana’s vantage point, it looked like it was for cat lovers.
Adriana turned and headed down the corridor. She didn’t have a plan, per se. Without knowing what the building layout was and what Allyson was planning, thinking ahead was tricky.
Arriving at the doorway, Adriana found it open. It was marked with a sign overhead indicating the room was where city records were kept from the 1930s. Adriana stopped at the corner of the door. She could still feel the gun tucked into her pants. She leaned her head forward and listened closely.
“Don’t screw with me, Professor. Show me.” Allyson’s voice carried through the door and into Adriana’s ears.
She took a long slow breath and peeked around the doorframe.
The two inside disappeared around an eight-foot-high shelf. They were heading toward the back of the building.
Adriana took another look back to make sure the cat lady at the desk hadn’t noticed her odd behavior. She hadn’t, her eyes still glued to the magazine. After giving another swift peek inside, Adriana ducked into the records room and crouched low, making her way over to one of the research tables for additional cover.
“It’s back here, I believe,” Koenig was saying, his voice somewhat distant. “I haven’t seen it in years. Sometimes, they move these things around.”
“Just find it,” Allyson ordered.
Adriana kept low and snuck around the end of the table. She saw the professor moving slowly down the aisle, checking dates and titles on the big filing cabinets. Allyson was close behind him, keeping her gun at waist level. Koenig stopped near the end of the row and leaned over to read the label more closely.