The Amber Knight (28 page)

Adam heard the clatter of pans as he went into the hall and retrieved his briefcase from behind the door where Josef had dropped it. He turned the combination lock, opened it and pocketed the scrambler before returning to the sitting room. After fitting the device on the telephone, he slumped down on one of the sofas and dialled the international code for America. It rang just once before a voice echoed down the line.

‘Who is calling?’

‘Peter, it’s Adam. Can I speak to my grandfather?’

‘He’s with his doctor. Is there a message I can give him?’

‘No. Has he had another attack?’

‘Nothing serious, but he’s picked up a stomach bug.’

‘I’ll hang on.’

‘The doctor’s only just gone in. If you give me your number I’ll get him to phone you back as soon as the doctor leaves.’

Adam hesitated, but only for a moment. Peter had been a fixture in his grandfather’s life for as long as he could remember. He gave Peter the direct line number of the apartment, remembering to prefix the international code. ‘Tell him to use the scrambler.’

‘I will, Mr Salen. He’ll ring as soon as he’s free.’

Magdalena walked in with a bottle of wine and a bowl of steaming pasta covered in carbonara sauce. ‘Did you make your call?’

‘Yes and no. I didn’t talk to my grandfather, but he’s phoning back.’

‘You gave him the number here?’

‘I gave his assistant the number here. Don’t worry – no one can listen in, not with this gadget attached to the telephone.’

‘Are you going to tell him about the knight?’

‘I have to, but I’m not looking forward to it. He was set on buying it for the Institute and adding it to the list of Poland’s national treasures. Like you and Edmund, he’s enamoured with the knight’s history and has been since he saw it in Konigsberg in the thirties when he toured Europe with his father.’

‘I’ve been wondering if we have been going about this whole thing the wrong way round.’ She sat on the sofa opposite him and piled two servings of pasta onto plates. ‘Instead of concentrating on Krefta, perhaps we should have been looking at the people who were in the Wolfschanze in 1945.’

‘You said the colonel in charge disappeared with all his men. Could he have survived?’

‘If he had, he’d be in his eighties or nineties by now. But one thing is certain – someone out there knows where the knight is. If not the colonel, then someone else. It’s possible he revealed the whereabouts of the knight to a captor, or perhaps he trusted another officer with the secret. If he hadn’t, the knight wouldn’t have resurfaced after all these years.’

‘You want Josef to ask every German in Gdansk if he’s here to dig up the knight?’

‘They may not be German. In January 1945 the forest around the Wolfschanze was teeming with Polish Partisans and Russian soldiers.’

‘I can hardly see a German colonel entrusting his secret to a Russian officer or Polish Partisan.’

‘I can, if he thought it would buy his life.’

‘In that case we’re looking for someone who has known the whereabouts of the knight for over sixty years but hasn’t been able to collect it until now.’ He poked at the pasta with a fork. The pasta was passable, but the sauce had a strange chemical taste and the only evidence of ham was microscopic shreds of off-putting, neon pink. ‘My money is still on the Germans,’ he pondered slowly, thinking of Herr Dobrow, and wondering at the man’s age. It was difficult to tell with people as overweight as he was. Sixty - seventy?

‘We know the area around the Wolfschanze was under attack in January 1945. Remember the Polish peasant who hid the altar cross in his house? Supposing a group of Partisans attacked the German convoy, found the treasure in their trucks and the surviving Germans used it and the promise of more back in the Wolfschanze, to barter for their lives? If the partisans had allowed them to live, the Germans would have hardly reported back to Berlin after losing the Konigsberg treasure.’

‘Poles and Germans sitting down and talking in 1945?’ he queried sceptically. ‘Even if you’re right, they in their turn could have been disturbed by the advancing Russians. Let’s face it, it’s impossible to track down individuals after all these years.’

‘We have Krefta and those other two men.’

‘Their bodies, not them, and Josef said the men were middle-aged, which probably means they were working for someone else.’

‘But Krefta was old enough to have fought in the war. It might be worth looking up his military record to see if his name is linked to any others. The Germans were nothing if not methodical. First thing in the morning I’ll fax Berlin for a list of the last known personnel manning the Wolfschanze.’

‘That’s the morning.’ Adam winced as he leaned forward to pour out the wine.

‘Let me.’

‘I’m not ready for the knacker’s yard yet.’

‘No, but you’re exhausted.’

‘I am. I’ll move my stuff into the small bedroom.’

‘I’d rather you took the double.’

‘Frankly, after all the drugs and pulling about, I’d quite happily lie on the floor and sleep right here. I have to wait for the call anyway.’

Magdalena cleared and washed the dishes. When she looked into the living room, Adam was stretched out on the sofa, with his eyes closed and a pained expression on his face that suggested he wasn’t asleep.

She tightened her mouth, reminding herself of his cynicism, his reputation, his womanising and the other rumours she’d heard and rather not believe; but try as she might she couldn’t forget the feel of his lips on hers.

Retreating to the conference room with her briefcase, she laid out her papers and the plans of the Wolfschanze on the table. Then she pushed one of the DVD’s into the machine and began to watch.

Magdalena woke with a start. Disorientated, she lifted her head from the conference table and knocked the pile of papers she’d fallen asleep over to the floor. The DVD player was still switched on, but the TV screen was blank.

‘It’s the doorbell,’ Adam whispered from the corridor. He’d changed his bloodstained trousers for jeans but his feet and bandaged chest were bare.

The ringing started again. A masculine voice shouted, ‘Police! Open the door, we have an urgent message for Ms Janca.’

Adam flicked the safety catch off the gun Josef had given him.

Magdalena went into the hall. ‘Josef Dalecka?’ she shouted after laying her finger across her lips to remind Adam he was supposed to be dead.

‘Captain Josef is not on duty.’

‘How did you know I was here?’

‘The captain alerted the patrols to watch the building. He didn’t say, but we hoped Ms Janca would be here.’

‘I’m Magdalena Janca.’

‘It’s your grandmother, Maria Kaszuba. She’s very ill.’

Adam pushed Magdalena into the conference room. ‘Tell them to get Josef,’ he murmured.

‘But Maria…’

‘The half an hour it will take to verify this with Josef can’t make much difference one way or the other to Maria. But it could save your life.’

The policeman knocked on the door again. ‘Ms Janca?’

‘I need to speak to Captain Josef.’

‘By the time we contact him it could be too late. Your grandmother is very ill.’

‘Where is she?’

‘In intensive care at the Institute for Contagious Diseases.’

‘Wait for me downstairs,’ she ordered. ‘I need to dress.’

‘I’ll wait for you here.’

‘No need, I’ll be down in five minutes.’ When she turned around Adam had already picked up the telephone in the conference room.

‘You’re not setting foot outside this building until I’ve cleared this with Josef’s office.’ He banged impatiently on the buttons. ‘Goddamn it! Bloody Polish telephone system. No wonder my grandfather didn’t ring back.’ He looked at her through darkly suspicious eyes. ‘You’re not going. If I have to hold you here at gunpoint, you’re not leaving this apartment.’

She picked up the internal telephone and buzzed the guard downstairs. ‘Hello, yes, I know there’s a police car waiting for me, but I promised Captain Josef I wouldn’t leave here without him, and I can’t contact him because the main telephone line is dead. Please, go to Piwna Street and ask them if they sent – you sure his identity checks out? – How could you confirm it when the telephone is dead? – I know the lines frequently go down – all right even if the photograph on his identity card is him, go to Piwna Street – Please, just do it. I can’t leave here until you do.’

‘I’m going with you,’ Adam said curtly, pulling a shirt from his bag.

‘You can’t go anywhere, you’re dead.’ She picked up her suitcase from the hall.

‘I can stay dead if I ring down to the security guards and borrow one of their uniforms.’

‘All the guards are shorter and wider than you, you’d look ridiculous.’

‘No one gives a security guard a second look.’

‘They would if he was wearing a uniform that had a foot missing from the arms and legs. Aren’t you forgetting you’re the target, not me?’ she said. ‘Besides, what could possibly happen to me in a police car between here and the institute?’

‘The same thing that happened to me in the foyer of a police station today. Get the guard again.’ He held out the internal telephone.

‘Adam, there’s no time.’

‘Get him. Tell him to run around the corner to Kaletnicza Street. Number two.’

‘Who lives there?’

‘Melerski.’

‘You want to bring the Mafia into this?’

‘He’s always struck me as an honest criminal, besides he’s Josef’s cousin. Go on,’ he pleaded, ‘I’d be happier if you do.’

She took the telephone from his hand and dialled downstairs.

‘– but my colleague’s already left for Piwna Street, Ms Janca. If I go to Kaletnicza Street the museum will be unprotected.’

‘I’ll take full responsibility.’

‘But…’

‘Full responsibility.’

‘I’m leaving now, madam.’

The doorbell rang less than five minutes later.

‘It’s Melerski, Magda. What’s the fuss about?’

Adam looked through the spy hole in the door. The guard was standing behind Melerski. ‘Send the guard away,’ he whispered to Magdalena as she emerged from the bathroom in clean clothes.

‘I will, but Josef will go wild if you show yourself to Melerski.’

‘I’ll be right behind the door.’ He moved back into the conference room and hesitated. ‘Do you want the gun?’ he asked, offering it to her.

‘I wouldn’t know what to do with it.’

‘Magda? Are you there?’

‘Just one moment.’

She waved Adam back. He withdrew, leaving the conference room door slightly ajar after making sure there was enough room to fire through the gap if the need arose. Magdalena pulled back the bolts. Melerski stepped inside.

‘I heard about Adam today. I’m sorry.’

‘Thank you.’

‘You need help?’

‘A police officer called here about a quarter of an hour ago to tell me Maria’s in the hospital. The telephone lines are down…’

‘As usual.’

‘I can’t contact Josef. He warned me not to leave here without him. But I have to see Maria. After what happened to Adam I’d rather not go anywhere by myself, even with a police escort.’

‘I can understand that, given where Adam was killed.’ He slipped his arm around her shoulders and gave her a brief hug. ‘I’m going to miss Adam, he was an awkward bastard, but I always knew where I stood with him, unlike some others I could mention.’

‘He used to say the same about you.’

‘I’m honoured that you trust me enough to ask for my help.’

‘It does seem odd to call on the Mafia when there’s a police escort outside the door.’

‘I’d prefer it if you thought of me as a friend.’

Adam gritted his teeth as he glimpsed Melerski taking Magdalena by the arm.

‘Don’t worry, Magda,’ Melerski led her out through the door. ‘I’ll keep you safe until Josef can take over.’

‘Ms Janca.’ The second museum guard ran up the stairs and knocked on the open door. ‘Lieutenant Pajewski is waiting for you downstairs. He says he’s met you. He contacted Captain Dalecka and the captain will meet you at the hospital. He’s doubled the size of your police escort. They’re ready to leave whenever you are.’

‘I’m ready.’ She opened the door. ‘This gentleman is coming with us. He’s a close friend.’

‘Shouldn’t you switch off the lights? Melerski asked as Magdalena followed him into the outside corridor.

‘Of course, thank you for reminding me.’ She switched off the lights and closed the door.

Adam listened as the sound of footsteps died on the stairs. He went to the window of the conference room and flicked one of the blinds, watching Magdalena climb into the back of the police car with Melerski. He cursed Josef’s ruse. If only he could be certain that the mysterious “they” whoever they were, had really wanted him dead, and had not merely eradicated him as an obstacle in their plan to capture Magdalena and use her as a bargaining chip in their dealings with Brunon.

The glow from the street lamps in the Royal Way filtered through the blinds, providing sufficient light for him to find the front door. He slid the bolts home, then padded uneasily from the shadows of one darkened room to another. He ended up back in the conference room. Magdalena’s maps and charts of the Wolfschanze were still lying on the table, but it was too dark to study them and he dared not switch the light on now she had left the building. Trying not to think of what was happening in the police car, he turned the television away from the window. Muting the sound, he pressed play on the DVD player and watched ten minutes of a film on the Wolfschanze without registering a single frame. Switching off the television, he took a book and a torch from Magdalena’s knapsack, and retreated into the single bedroom. He lay on the bed and tried to drum up interest in the story of the Wolfschanze’s construction. After an hour he realised he hadn’t absorbed a single word.

The phone rang. He sprang to his feet, only just remembering he couldn’t pick it up. Josef’s nasal tones droned down the answer phone.

‘I had the telephone fixed. The wires were cut outside the building, at the back. It could have been vandals but I doubt it. Maria Kaszuba is dying of anthrax. The doctors are one hundred percent certain. Magdalena is as close to her as the medical advisors will allow. The end won’t be long. When it’s over I’ll bring Magda back.’ The answer phone clicked off and Adam was left to stare at the wall.