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Time and Again(72)

By:Brian D. Meeks


“Not long.”

“I'll put on the coffee.”



***

The Greek man yelled, “Well?”

Katarina didn’t like the sound of her answer in her head, but it was true. “It was busy.”

“Try again!”

She dialed the number. It rang, once, then twice. Henry’s voice lacked warmth. “Hey…”

“Do you have an answer for me?”

She whispered, almost saying his name, “Hen…” She took a breath, “What is going on?” Fatigue and fear had stripped away her ability to control herself. She was scared, it came through in her voice, and she hated the weak sound of it, but there wasn’t anything she could do.

Slowly and measured he said, “Did the Greek man give an answer?”

“He said he will pay you the money.” She sounded small and defeated.

“Call me back in one hour. Tell him we have a deal.”

“Henry…”, she said, sounding desperate, “I am in serious trouble here, what is…” The phone clicked off.

The Greek man came back into the room and put the phone on the table next to his chair. He was suddenly calm and smoking a cigarette. It smelled awful.

“They are Turkish. My wife hates the smell too. A filthy habit, I admit, but I like them. It appears we have reached a deal with your friend. I have to admit, he is a cool customer. He played his hand well. We have reached a deal and the thought of putting this whole mess behind us, has improved my mood considerably.” He looked past her, took a long pull from his cigarette and made a motion with his hand.

From the other room, the muffled but distinct sounds of a pistol could be heard. She heard the body fall, and then the heavy door closed. The Greek man’s smile was slight and terrifying. “Yes, soon it will all be over.”

She started to talk, but nothing came out. She tried again, her voice trembling, “What deal? We had a deal too.”

“Yes, I have some vague recollection of something, but my mind isn’t what it used to be. I don’t recall the deal you made including a payout to your friend. It seems that this new deal trumps the old one. I would say I am sorry, but you disgust me.”

“I thought you were a man of your word.”

“I was under the impression you were better at reading people.” He stood up, with a smile, enjoying the little joke he’d made.

She leapt from her chair, fear and adrenaline taking over. She swung wildly and he grabbed her wrist. The second blow was equally ineffective. “I would kill you now, but you are the only one who knows his number. So it has bought you an hour.”

He flung her back in the chair and walked out.





Chapter Sixty-Two



Hans knocked lightly and opened the door. Henry, in the back, told him to come in. Hans hung his hat and coat on the hall tree, walked into Henry’s office, closing the door behind him. Henry started to get up, but Hans waved it off.

“No need to stand Mr. Woods. I will be brief.”

Henry sat back down, motioning to the chair. “How may I help?”

“I wasn’t entirely truthful with you on the phone, as Dr. Schaeffer was in the room. Though it is true, he is concerned about the auction, as he hasn’t heard from Patrick, that’s not why I am here.”

“Oh?”

“You see Mr. Wood, I serve two masters.” Hans paused and took a breath. “I assist Dr. Schaeffer, but I also work for the ‘Falcon’. In fact, I only work for the doctor, to keep an eye on him.”

“An art spy, as it were.”

“Yes. Myself and Andre Garneau’s man Arthur, were planted by the Falcon years ago. It is our job to keep her, er, the Falcon, informed about their financial means, which items they truly want, and then to, when it serves her needs, help one or the other win a bid, or lose entirely.”

“Art collecting is a dirty business. So what is it you want, though I am not saying I'll help. Frankly speaking, I find your little revelation to be revolting. Dr. Schaeffer seems like a good man.”

Hans had to bite his tongue, his hatred of Dr. Schaeffer was about to boil over. “Yes, but business is business, as they say. The Falcon has been kidnapped, along with Father Patrick. We need you to find out where they are, so we might get them out.”

Henry leaned back in his chair and looked at Hans. They both knew it was Henry’s turn to talk and he just let the silence hang there, choking Hans. Henry could see that under his calm blank expression, was a look of desperation. “What makes you think I can find them?”

“You have connections, specifically within the police department. They were taken last night, from a car, and the driver was killed. You are a very bright detective, and I was impressed with how much you learned for Dr. Schaeffer, so I am confident you will dig up something.”