Sparkles (18 page)

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Authors: Michael Halfhill

Tags: #gay romance

BOOK: Sparkles
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“Jan thinks one is a nuclear equation. But—”

“Oh, now that makes sense!” Aïda said. “I’ll bet those drawings that look like hourglasses are supposed to be cooling towers at nuclear power plants.”

“But which ones?” Daniel said. “They’re all over the place!”

Schiller let out a deep woof as the front door opened.

“Ah, Jan, come in. We were just discussing our puzzle.”

Jan kissed the women and clasped Daniel’s hand. “I hear we have progress thanks to Charlotte.”

After hearing Charlotte’s analysis, and reexamining the other symbols, Jan and Daniel agreed that Aram Faji was sending a warning of some kind.

“Jan,” Aïda said, “these Xs that feel like hourglasses, could they be cooling towers?”

Jan looked at the paper again. “Mrs. Fabian, I think you’re right. Now all we have to do is figure out what it all means.”

“Maybe the number five means how many plants are targeted?”

Jan nodded. “Mmm, perhaps. But which ones?”

“What about this phone number?” Daniel asked.

Jan replied, “I checked with the police. Aram didn’t have a cell phone on him when he was pulled out of the river.”

“It’s definitely Aram’s,” Charlotte said.

“Perhaps it fell out of his pocket when he went into the water,” Aïda said. “Or, perhaps he didn’t have it with him at all. He left the number for a reason. Clearly, he wanted someone to dial it. Now I wonder, where would he hide a phone?”

“My guess is, somewhere where he felt sure it would be found,” Jan said.

“I know!” Charlotte said. “The opera house.”

“Why the opera house?” Daniel asked.

Charlotte said, “It’s where he worked. He was working on the costumes for
Alexander’s Feast
when he disappeared.”

“Costumes?” Jan said. He pointed to what looked like a diamond pattern on the paper. “So that’s what this is. We’re getting warmer.”

The three looked at the roughly drawn image, then at each other.

“You don’t suppose….”

“Mrs. Fabian, if I’m right we may have found out where all those stolen gems ended up…. Aram Faji!”

“Oh, my goodness! Jan, I think you’re on to something! You’d better get going.”

Jan bent down to give Aïda a kiss. “I’ll call you as soon as I can.”

“Hurry, Jan. There’s no time to lose.”

Chapter 49

 

 

All that Glitters

 

THE QUAKER
City Opera was housed in a building that was once a brewery. What it lacked in charm was amply made up for with vast spaces and great acoustics. Charlotte led Jan and Daniel through a maze of empty rooms, ending at a door marked
Costumes/Staff Only
. Charlotte turned her key in the lock.

“Well, here goes nothin’,” she said as she pushed open the heavy door and switched on the overhead lights.

“Oh, my God!”

The trio stood stock-still as they looked on a sight any ancient Persian would have recognized in a flash. Then Jan said in a hushed voice, “I think we found the gems everyone has been looking for.”

Daniel looked at Charlotte as he fingered a robe fit for a Persian queen. “Do you think they’re real?” he asked.

“Yes I do,” Charlotte replied, breathless. “Fake props look good from a distance, but they’re easy to spot up close. These are just too good to be faux gems.”

Holding up a jewel-studded crown, Daniel pointed to a large stone set in the center. “Well, what about this one? It can’t be real. It’s as big as a hen’s egg.”

Jan took the crown in his hands. “
Jesu
! As I live and breathe, I do believe this is the Vice-Regal Diamond.” Jan set the crown on the workbench and rummaged through a nearby pile of fabrics. He pulled a leather-bound briefcase from under a pile. “This, if I’m not mistaken, is the attaché case it came in,” he said.

Charlotte took the headpiece, turning it in her hand. “But why? I just can’t believe Aram would steal anything… let alone all this!”

Ignoring Charlotte’s disbelief, Jan focused on the issue at hand. “Charlotte, where are you staging this production?”

“Our first stop is Amsterdam… why? What does that have to do with anything?”

Jan chuckled. “You may know real diamonds when you see them, Charlotte, but you don’t know the diamond business. Amsterdam is the worldwide gem capital.”

“You mean he was going to sell them?”

“I’m not sure, but my guess is he was going to swap out the real jewels for stage ones. The real gems would then be sold, or exchanged for goods or services.”

Charlotte sat down on a stage stool. She looked at the glittering costumes. “Poor Aram. What did he get himself into?”

“Daniel, did you bring our puzzle with you?” Jan said.

Daniel pulled the paper from his pocket and handed it to Jan.

Jan ran his hand through his hair. “Well, we know the what, the where, and the how. Now all we need is the why—do you have your cell phone?”

“Where’s yours?” Daniel asked, knowing full well where it probably was.

“I left it at home.”

Daniel handed Jan his phone, frowning in mock disgust.

“Let’s see, area code plus 555-0055.” Jan punched in the numbers.

“Listen. It’s ringing! I knew it would be in here someplace,” Charlotte said.

“Over here!” said Daniel. After pulling out a drawer, he rummaged through balls of silk yarn, tossing them out onto the floor as he went along. Finally, “It’s empty.”

“Turn it over,” Jan said.

Daniel upended the drawer. There, taped to its underside, was Aram Faji’s cell phone. Daniel pulled the phone loose and looked at the pale screen. “Now what do we do? There’s not much power left.”

“Check the last incoming call.”

Daniel pushed the call history button. “The last call came from 215-222-5655.”

“Daniel,” Charlotte said, “that’s the landline extension in this room. Why would he call himself from here?”

“Are there any stored messages?” Jan asked.

“Yes! There’s just one.”

Jan took a deep breath. “Let’s hear what Aram had to say.”

Daniel pressed the message button.

If you are listening to this, then I am with my God. By now you must have figured out that you are standing among some of the world’s most valuable gemstones.

If you haven’t guessed already, I have for several seasons received stolen gems and sewn them into costumes. Once out of the country, I replaced them with paste jewels and passed the real ones on to a courier. I believed this was to help my country against the financial sanctions imposed by the West. I was lied to. The cutting off of that poor man’s hand made me realize this is wrong in the eyes of Allah. I now know that I was really working for al-Qaida. I have done a terrible thing, but it may not be too late. Al-Qaida is going to detonate bombs at nuclear power plants along the East Coast of the United States. The attack will come from the water. The Vice-Regal Diamond was to be sent to Amsterdam to help finance getting a dirty nuclear bomb. Upon its arrival, sufficient fissionable material was to be sent to a team working somewhere along the Delaware River. I hid the diamond here in this studio. For this, I believe I will be killed. I do know that without the nuclear material, the sabotage will have to rely on Semtex plastic explosive. I am very afraid. I am meeting members of the team tomorrow at the Broad Street Diner. I know I will not get anyone’s understanding, but I beg whoever is listening to this message, to seek out my wife and children, and see that they are safe….

 

 

INSIDE CHARLOTTE
De Vere’s office, Jan had just finished a conference call to his friend FBI Special Agent Jack Woodhouse and the local FBI branch’s Henry Jessop. Tracking all electronic communications was an ongoing effort. With new information at hand, they had already begun to pinpoint the targets so carefully picked out by the terrorists and notified the Coast Guard that the attacks would come via boats. Now all they could do was wait.

Chapter 50

 

 

Just Desserts

 

DARIA’S VOMIT
washed the slippery deck of the cabin cruiser. The recent squall had passed, leaving the dark water of the Long Island Sound heaving with white-capped waves. Added to this, the anchor line was too short to snag the seabed where Daria planned to set off with Sinan in the inflatable. As a result, the cruiser pitched violently in the rollers while the inflatable, already in the water, pulled hard against the lines holding it to the battered boat. Sinan smiled inwardly.
A woman. She thought of everything—but this. Not so tough after all.

“Sinan! You fool! Help me!” Daria screamed over the sound of wind and waves, snapping Sinan back to the task at hand. Daria had dragged a waterproof canvas duffle bag up to the gunwale. Sinan squatted next to the bag as Daria unzipped the top, exposing the electronic firing device.

“I’ve already set the arming mechanism,” Daria shouted. “We need—”

“You what! Has the sea made you crazy? Semtex is nothing to fool with!”

The blow took Sinan completely by surprise. Her hard slap across his face made his ears ring. Daria grabbed Sinan’s jacket and pulled him in close to her. Her rage was almost palpable. Daria bellowed, “Never question me again. Our mission is more important than you can imagine. We are late as it is. By arming the bomb now, I can ensure it will be ready at a moment’s notice. Now, Sinan, you will help me heave this into the raft. Then you and I will get in the raft and set sail. We must reach the shore soon, or we will have to go in during daylight. I’ve already wasted time arguing with you. So go!”

Sinan nodded. He stood, said a silent prayer, and pushed the duffle bag over the side and into the inflatable. The thud of the bag landing on the floor of the raft was the last sound he and Daria would ever hear.

 

 

THE FOLKS
living along the shore where al-Qaida’s hopes went up in smoke, with a dash of seawater, later said that it sounded something like a train wreck. One man swore he heard a woman scream, but thought it was just the wind. The Coast Guard cutter sent to intercept Daria’s boat found nothing but debris and steam coming off the water, but no bodies.

 

 

AT THE
Tom’s River facility, Naji checked his watch. It had been hours since Daria had sent the text message saying that she was in place to transfer from the boat to the inflatable. Earlier, Sinan had read the same message. He sat in the relative safety of the Alloway Creek, gathering his nerve. Both men waited.

 

 

ADEL STEPPED
off the train at Philadelphia’s huge Thirtieth Street Station. He walked the 637-foot length of the main terminal with reluctant determination. He would have been happier to die with Sinan rather than face arrest and an American court, where he would most likely be condemned to a miserable existence in prison. Ignoring the taxicabs that lined the train station’s front entrance, Adel began an eighteen-block trek into the city’s heart. His destination: the Quaker City Opera House. His mission, he reminded himself, was the recovery of the Vice-Regal Diamond. When Daria had asked him if he would recognize the stone, Adel wanted to tell her that having to cut a man’s hand off to get it had forever imprinted the gem on his memory. Daria had sensed Adel’s hesitation and warned him that he was not to engage in heroics. The diamond, and what it would mean to al-Qaida, was paramount. Adel wasn’t sure he agreed with Daria, but he was a good soldier. He would do as he was told.
How am I supposed to find the diamond? I don’t even know where Aram’s studio is!

Chapter 51

 

 

Mania

 

ANNA MOFFO’S
lush voice filled the room with “
Vissi d’arte
.” Tosca’s tragic aria mirrored Kat Manlove’s aching desire for Daniel Jelski. For hours, Kat had played the aria in her head, a seemingly endless loop of despair. In hopes of banishing the song’s tormenting theme, she’d fished out the old recording that now played music that only served to make her sad longing even more evident. Kat had seen Daniel, along with Jan and that bitch Charlotte De Vere, race from Aïda Fabian’s house.
Geez! I wonder where the fire is?
That had been hours ago. Now, nerves frayed, Kat picked up her phone and dialed Aïda’s number.

“Aïda, this is Kat Manlove. I saw Daniel Jelski leave your house. Do you know where he went?”

“Well, hello to you too, Kat,” Aïda said icily.

“Sorry, I’m kinda in a state right now. So, where did he go?”

“Well, if you must know, he went to the opera house,” Aïda said.

“The opera house? At this time of day?”

“Kat,” Aïda said, “take my advice and leave the man alone. He doesn’t even know you exist. Please don’t make trouble. I—” Aïda spoke her last word into a dead line.

Chapter 52

 

 

Answered Prayers

 

CHARLOTTE PRIED
the Vice-Regal Diamond from the crown of Darius III, the last king of the Achaemenid Persian Empire.
What would we do if the world had no sparkles to tempt us?
Charlotte
put the stone into the attaché case and snapped the locks. She headed to her office, where she waited with Jan.

Daniel joined them, after taking photographs of all the costumes in Aram’s studio. He smiled reassuringly at Charlotte. “What will this do to your season’s program?” he asked.

“Looks like the
Cav
is back on,” Charlotte replied. “So much misery… I don’t think I’ll ever have the heart to try the Handel again.”

“Of course you will.”

 

 

OUTSIDE, ADEL
circled the building that housed the Quaker City Opera. He noted that there were but two entrances to the old structure built in the late 1800s. The main doors stood atop a wide flight of worn marble steps that fanned out in an uneven arc, ending at the concrete sidewalk. The other door was made of solid oak, with an impressive lock. The main doors with their big glass windows would have to do, even if they had to be broken.

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