The Tombs - Cussler Clive - Страница 11

“I read something that said they were based in New York, but we just saw six of them here.”

“I’ll get on it.”

“Thanks, Selma. They seem to be following us. And if they’ve already spotted Albrecht, we might have a problem. He’s so paranoid, he may have decided to walk to France to throw them off.”

“I’ll let you know who and what they are.”

“Good night, Selma.” Remi put her phone back into her purse and turned to Sam. “Nothing. Any other ideas?”

“Well, you can either stay here keeping your beauty pristine or you can put on something practical and go with me to see if we can find him.”

She shrugged. “I guess I’ve already shown myself to the only guy I was trying to impress. Take one last look before I put on a pair of jeans and sneakers.”

“Sorry.”

She kicked off her high heels and opened the small refrigerator, selected a chocolate bar, and took a bite. “Here. Have some dinner while I change.” She gave him the bar, then turned around so he could unzip her dress.

A few minutes later Sam and Remi walked briskly back along Unter den Linden toward Humboldt University. The streets were full of people—locals and tourists—enjoying the beautiful walk beneath the double row of linden trees on an early-summer night. The fourth time Sam looked over his shoulder at the walkway behind them he said, “I don’t see our stalkers.”

Remi said, “They probably knew we had a dinner reservation at a Michelin-starred restaurant and figured we’d be accounted for over the next three hours.”

“Are you getting worried?”

“More and more,” she said. “Albrecht Fischer isn’t an absentminded professor. He’s used to running an academic department, teaching, writing, and putting together mental models of incredibly complex buildings with very little to go on. He doesn’t ask friends to come halfway around the world and then forget they’re here.”

“Let’s not assume anything,” Sam said. “We’re almost there.”

They reached the laboratory building where Albrecht had taken them a few hours earlier. The outer door was still unlocked. They could see lights on in some of the labs on upper floors, but when they reached Albrecht’s lab, it was dark.

Remi said, “Could we have passed him on the way?”

“Probably not. I was studying everybody I could see to spot watchers. But he might have gone somewhere to change for dinner, so we don’t know which direction he’d be coming from.”

Sam reached out tentatively to test the doorknob of Albrecht’s lab and found that it turned. He opened the door, reached in, and turned on the lights. The coffin with Friedrich’s remains was gone. The lab tables that had been lined up very precisely in two rows earlier were pushed aside at odd angles, and two had been knocked over. Two chairs looked as though they had been hurled across the room. As Remi and Sam moved farther into the room, they found several large splotches of blood in a trail leading toward the door. The scarf Albrecht had been wearing lay on the floor. Sam picked it up and put it in his coat pocket.

Remi took out her cell phone, dialed quickly, and clapped the phone to her ear.

“Police?” asked Sam.

“Uh-huh. In Germany they’re 1-1-0.” She heard something in German and said, “Hello. Can I speak to you in English? Good. I think a friend of ours has been kidnapped. Abducted. My husband and I were going to meet him at our hotel at eight o’clock. He didn’t come, and so we’re here at his laboratory at Humboldt University. There’s blood on the floor, the furniture is knocked over, and things are missing.” She listened. “My name is Remi Fargo. Thank you. We’ll wait for them at the front door of this building.”

Remi and Sam turned off the lights, left the laboratory, and walked down the hallway to the entrance. The on-off wail that European sirens make grew louder. When they opened the door, they saw the police car emerge from Friedrichstrasse and head toward them. The car stopped in front of the building, and two police officers got out.

Sam said, “Hello, Officers. Do you speak English?”

“I have a little English,” said one of the policemen. “Are you Herr Fargo?”

“Yes. And this is my wife, Remi. Please come and see what we’ve found.”

He and Remi led the two policemen into the laboratory and turned on the lights. As soon as they saw the condition of the room, the policemen looked more comfortable. They were on firm ground again: there had been a crime and so they were in charge. As they looked closely at the various physical signs of violence, the officers asked questions and took notes. “What is your friend’s name? Is he a professor at Humboldt? If he’s a professor at Heidelberg, why does he have a laboratory here? What is the nature of his work? Does he have a rival who would do something like this?”

Sam sighed. “Professor Fischer felt he had been watched while he was in Hungary. There were four men who followed him around in a car. He had no idea who they were.”

“Anyone else?”

“We arrived today from an archaeological dive in the Gulf of Mexico off the state of Louisiana in the United States. There were six people there who work for a company called Consolidated Enterprises. They followed our boat to various dive sites and then sabotaged our equipment. As we were leaving here for our hotel this afternoon, we saw that two of the same people were in Berlin, following us.”

“How would we find them?”

“They’re staying at the Tiergarten Hotel,” Sam said. “Fourth floor.”

The two policemen conferred for a few seconds, and then the English speaker spoke into a hand radio briefly. Then he said, “We would like you to come with us.”

“Where are we going?”

“The Tiergarten Hotel.”

When they arrived at the Tiergarten Hotel, there were already six police cars parked in front and a high-ranking officer was waiting. The two policemen with Remi and Sam called him Hauptmann. He turned to them and said, “Mr. and Mrs. Fargo? I’m Captain Klein. I’ve got men upstairs speaking with these Americans who might have abducted your friend.”

Sam said, “I’m a bit uncomfortable about the idea that these people could be the kidnappers. They’re not ethical, but they don’t seem to be violent.”

Captain Klein shrugged. “You said they sabotaged diving equipment, perhaps endangering you. They’ve followed you from one continent to another. Sometimes criminals thrive because they don’t seem to be the type. We’ll know soon.”

Klein’s radio gave a blast of static. He said into it, “Ja?” There was a recitation by a male voice on the other end, and Klein replied briefly. He said to Sam and Remi, “Your friend is not in either of their rooms. We have some men searching other areas—the basement, storerooms, linen closets, offices, and so on.”

“What about the specimens?” Remi asked. “There would be no legitimate reason for them to have any ancient artifacts or remains. They’ve been in Europe for only a few hours.”

“Could you identify these objects if you saw them?”

“Some of them,” she said. “Professor Fischer showed us the skeleton of an ancient warrior. There was a rusty partial sword or dagger, part of a leather wrapping or strap. And he had a map divided into a grid that showed the place where these had been found.”

“Where did he find them?”

“Somewhere in Hungary,” Sam said. “Captain, I would appreciate it if the description of the find and the location could be kept out of any public report. Professor Fischer has been keeping these things secret. If the word got out, the excavation of the site would be threatened. I personally assure you that the finds will all be reported to the government there and all permits obtained.”

“Thank you both for your candor. I’ll do my best to keep this information confidential.” There was another blast of static, and he listened to his radio. “Danke.” To Remi and Sam he said, “They’re ready for us upstairs.”