Teren sighed. “Five bucks says it went to Treville.”
“Think so?”
“Uh-huh.” She was quiet a moment. “I think we’ll need to be cautious the rest of our stay here.”
Alex raised an eyebrow. “Why? Did something happen?”
Teren shook her head. “No.” She stopped at a red light, letting the car idle in neutral. “I’ve just had this feeling since we left the shop.”
Alex waited, wondering if Teren was playing psychic, or being paranoid. When her partner didn’t answer, she decided it didn’t matter. “Okay. How long are we staying, anyway?”
The dark woman shrugged. “‘Til I get the information I want from Meinhard.”
“And that is?”
“Who owns that fucking bank account.”
Alex nodded. “Right. And after that?”
“After that we hop a plane for Munich. I want to talk to this Odbert guy.”
*******************************************************
Like most European cities, Teren explained to Alex, Zurich really had not grown in size over the last hundred years or so— just in population. Because the city had not grown, in the sense of spreading out, it took only moments to travel from place to place. This made cars mostly unnecessary within the city limits, and most residents either rode a bicycle or took the tram.
“Then why did we rent a car?”
“Because it’s also very cold in Zurich, and I didn’t think you’d want to freeze to the handles of a bike, or wait in the snow for a tram.”
Alex nodded. “Thanks.”
Even after a slow trip through the narrow city streets, Alex and Teren were a few minutes early for dinner. This allowed Teren to wait for a spot close to the front door of the Zunfthaus zur Waag. Alex, whose arm was aching from the cold, was grateful.
They were seated and waiting for Meinhard when he appeared. By Teren’s watch, he was three minutes late.
“Frau Olind?”
Teren stood. “Ja, genau. Setzen Sie sich doch.”
He shook her hand and turned to Alex. “Und Sie sind?”
Alex glanced at Teren.
“Das ist meine Mitarbeiterin, Ms. Reed. Sie spricht kein Deutsch. Sprechen Sie Englisch, Herr Meinhard?”
He bowed slightly. “Yes, I do,” he said. Alex noticed that his accent was obvious, but not pronounced. “It is nice to meet you, Ms. Reed.”
Alex smiled at him. “Same here, Mr. Meinhard. Please, sit.” She indicated the seat between herself and Teren, and Meinhard slid into it.
“Did you order already?”
“No, we were waiting for you,” Alex answered. “Do you have any recommendations?”
He nodded. “The Zueri-Gschnaetzlets is wonderful here.” Alex noticed that his ‘w’s were pronounced with a slight ‘v’ sound. “And, of course, I believe you would love the Kalbsbratwurst in Zweilblesauce.”
Teren glanced at Alex. “I thought I was ordering for you tonight, Andrea.”
“I’m not sure I trust you. You did threaten me with cow tongue.”
Meinhard looked up. “Ah, yes, tongue. Wonderful dish, and they prepare it very well here.”
Alex made a face and Teren laughed. “I don’t think my friend is quite adventurous enough for that. Perhaps something a little less daring?”
They ordered a bottle of wine with dinner, but only Meinhard seemed inclined to drink more than one glass. They talked about Zurich, and recent events in Switzerland and the world. Every once in a while Teren and Herr Meinhard would slip into German, and Alex would clear her throat, reminding them that she couldn’t understand what they were saying.
Finally, after dinner had been cleared away, and the three of them were enjoying some dessert, Teren launched into the topic she had called Meinhard about.
“I have an account that I need information on. It’s very important, and I need it as soon as possible.”
He nodded. “The owner’s name?”
She shook her head. “I don’t know his name. I only know the account number, and when it was originally opened.”
“And when was that?”
“Nineteen forty-five.”
Meinhard had his cup halfway to his mouth, and it froze there for several seconds. Before he put it down.
“Do you know what you’re asking?”
Alex leaned forward. “We’re asking for the name of a man who has an account in your bank.”
Meinhard shook his head. “You are asking about an account from the second World War. It is possibly a lost account that has not been touched in over forty years, and perhaps the money from it has even been transferred out.” He sipped his coffee. “Besides, if this is about the reparations to the Jews, Switzerland has paid the required amount.” He stabbed at his chocolate cake, taking a bite with angry precision.
Alex snorted, and set her fork down sharply. “Required amount. Ten cents on every dollar that was owed.”
The man looked up at her. “That is, what you call it, propaganda. There is no proof that any other money exists.”
Teren put up a hand, forestalling Alex, whose eyes were showing a fury that Teren had never seen in her before.
“Enough. This has nothing to do with the reparations to the Jews, Herr Meinhard. And as far as the account being abandoned, I have proof that transactions have been made from it as recently as six months ago.”
Meinhard swallowed his mouthful of pastry. “You are certain of this?”
“Yes.”
No one spoke for a long moment. Teren finished her strudel and leaned back. Alex seemed to have lost her appetite, and she simply poked at the pastry with her dessert fork, breaking off bits and pieces, but not eating. Meinhard had a contemplative look on his face as he finished his dessert and reached again for his coffee cup.
“You realize what this could mean, don’t you, Ms. Olind?”
“Tell me, Herr Meinhard.”
He sipped from his cup. “It could be that the man is from Odessa.”
She nodded. “Perhaps. Though I thought Odessa was mostly disintegrated now.”
“The network, yes, but their resources?” He shook his head.
“Ich wei? wirklich nicht, ob ich Ihnen helfen kann, Frau Ohlind.” “I do not know if I can help you, Frau Olind.”
Teren stared at him. She switched to German for her response.
“Warum?” “What do you mean? “
Meinhard licked his lips. “Es ist zu gefahrlich. Ich wei? nicht, ob ich Ihnen damit helfen kann.” Meinhard licked his lips. “I mean, this is a dangerous thing. I do not know if I can help. “
“Weil Sie an die Information nicht herankommen, oder weil Sie nicht herankommen wollen?” “Because you can’t get the information, or because you don’t want to find the information? “
Meinhard said nothing. He stared at the table.
Alex, sensing her partner’s anger, stayed silent. As much as she really wanted to know what was happening, she didn’t want to interrupt. Instead, she looked around the room, surreptitiously examining their fellow diners.
Teren leaned forward and dropped her voice.
“Jetzt horen Sie mir mal genau zu, Meinhard. Sie haben die Wahl. Entweder, Sie helfen mir, oder Ihre Vorgesetzten werden alles uber Ihre Kontakte zum Untergrund erfahren, und was sie fur die getan haben.” “You listen to me, Meinhard. You have a choice here, to help me, or to allow your superiors to discover your undercover contacts, and the services you’ve done for them. “
He looked at her in horror. “Das wurden Sie nicht tun.” He looked at her in horror. “You would not. “
“Oh doch. Wenn ich auch nur eine Sekunde lang der Meinung ware, Sie wurden mich hinhalten, wurde ich Sie sofort verraten,” Teren snarled. “I would. Oh, believe me, if I thought you were holding out on me, I’d turn you over in a heartbeat,” Teren snarled.
“Das wurde meinen Tod bedeuten” “It would mean my death.”
“Und es wurde mir um einiges weniger bedeuten als der Tod meines letzten Mitarbeitersoder der zweier Manner vor ein paar Tagen.” She sat back. “Lassen Sie es nicht darauf ankommen. Die Konsequenzen wurden Ihnen mit Sicherheit nicht gefallen.” “Which means less to me than my former partner’s death, and the death of two men just a few days ago.” She sat back. “Don’t test me, Herr Meinhard. You would not like the consequences.”