The Amber Knight (35 page)

‘That’s our Helga.’

‘No one claimed the Russian’s body.’

‘Just as well considering what Radek did to it.’

‘And what was that, Adam?’ Josef asked.

‘Just something I heard about a stone coffin and the missing half of the amber shipment.’

‘Slander of a well-respected businessman is a dreadful thing,’ Josef reprimanded.

‘Particularly when it’s directed at the innocent.’ Adam looked down at the chest.

‘Your trousseau?’ Josef asked.

‘A few odds and ends Radek and Melerski donated to the museum. I’m planning a party to celebrate when I get out of here.’

‘Next month?’

‘I was thinking more next week. You’ll come and bring Mariana?’

‘If she’s talking to me.’ Josef rose from his chair. ‘Take care of yourself and do me a favour? The next time you get a demand for something that’s been missing for sixty years, burn it. My marriage won’t stand another strain like the last.’

It was quiet after Josef left. Adam didn’t have the scrambler but for the first time in days he felt he didn’t need it. He picked up the bedside phone and dialled his grandfather’s home, a number he stored in his memory and nowhere else.

His grandfather answered.

‘No Peter today?’

‘He’s arranging things in the clinic for your wife.’

‘Ex-wife.’

‘I’m an old fool. I should have listened to you when you said it was over.’

‘The important thing is you believe me now.’

‘The police said you’d been hurt.’

‘I’ll mend. I’m sorry, I didn’t get the knight. It’s gone, for good this time.’ He put aside his own disappointment and consoled his grandfather, giving him a sanitised and censored version of the events surrounding the second disappearance of the knight.

‘So that’s that,’ the old man declared philosophically.

‘Not quite, the Amber Room’s still missing and the Rembrandts and…’

‘Someone’s contacted you about them?’

‘Not yet. I’m hosting a party in the museum in two weeks to launch a new exhibition of a few minor pieces that have fallen my way. Want to come?’

‘You want to celebrate after losing the knight?’

‘It’s the Salen way. Pick yourself up, dust yourself off and get on with it, or so I was taught to believe.’ He looked up and saw Magdalena in the doorway. She was wearing the amber earrings he had bought for her, but had never found the courage, or the right time, to give to her. ‘You could bring the boys back for Magdalena Janca, now things have settled down here.’

‘I wanted to talk to you about those two.’

‘Talk to me when you get here. I’ll book you into the Grand Hotel in Sopot.’

‘I stayed there in the thirties.’

‘You can tell me how much it’s changed.’

‘Adam, I’m sorry about Courtney.’

‘Don’t be. It was over a long time ago. See you soon.’ He put down the telephone and smiled at Magdalena. ‘Hi.’

‘The knight’s gone.’

‘But you and Edmund saw it?’

‘We did.’

‘Magdalena…’

‘That name is too long. My mother used to call me Lena. You might have to use it for quite a while when you get out of here. The doctor says you won’t be able to live alone for months. Lung injuries are susceptible to relapse. You have to rest, eat properly, take care of yourself, take a little light exercise, nothing strenuous. And then there’s your hand…’

‘It’s been remodelled as a strainer. Useful for spaghetti.’

‘Always jokes with you, isn’t it?’

‘Sorry, please go on.’

‘I thought perhaps you could do with live-in help. I’ve had the door repaired on the museum apartment.’

‘I prefer my own in Mariacka Street.’

‘It only has one bedroom.’

‘Sick as I am, I’m prepared to sleep on the sofa until you’re ready to invite me into it.’ He smiled. ‘Go on. Live recklessly for once.’

‘Some would say I’ve lived quite recklessly enough during the past few days.’

‘You don’t know the meaning of the word – yet.’ He reached out, but he couldn’t have kissed her if she hadn’t come to him. It was just like before. Loving, passionate yet peaceful, and he knew he had found a woman he could spend the rest of his life with. The only problem was, did she want to spend the rest of her life with him?

The Archaeological Museum was teeming with the wealthy and the powerful, which in contemporary Poland did not necessarily mean the elegant and cultured. The dry white German wine and the French red were flowing. Josef, looking distinctly ill at ease with an overdressed Mariana clinging to his arm, was eyeing all the guests as though they were potential terrorists. Pajewski, dressed in a suit far too tight for his bulging frame, never strayed far from the waiters dispensing the refreshments.

Seeing Melerski and Radek, Adam tried to sneak past Georgiana and her latest discovery, a Czech artist with a green and purple ponytail who went by the improbable name of Clovis.

‘And these really are part of the lost Konigsberg hoard, Adam? You are so clever to display them this way. I must commission someone to take photographs of them for the Salen Institute of Modern Art in Texas –’

‘Over my dead body, Georgie,’ Adam growled.

‘Adam … ’

‘Sorry, must dash.’ He gave Edmund and Helena a smile of commiseration before greeting Radek. ‘Come to see your donation?’

‘I’m not sure I like the inscription on the door,’ Melerski complained. ‘This exhibition made possible by the generous donation of businessmen who prefer to remain anonymous.’

‘There is another plaque.’ Adam drew their attention to a large bronze plate on the central case that contained Princess Dorothea’s headdress and necklace.

Melerski read, ‘This display is dedicated to the memory of two Gdansk police officers, Leo Radek and Jerzy Dolny, who were brutally murdered while bravely carrying out their official duties.’

‘I thought you’d prefer their name on it to yours,’ Adam said.

Radek nodded dumbly.

‘Adam.’ Melerski stared at the case that contained the princess’s rings. ‘There’s one missing.’

‘It fell apart when it was being cleaned. Feliks is doing what he can with it.’

‘Strange, I thought they were all in pretty good condition.’

Adam shrugged. ‘You know what a perfectionist Feliks is.’

‘Did I hear my name being taken in vain?’

‘Feliks,’ Adam greeted him expansively. ‘Have some wine and tell these kind benefactors how you restored the pieces they so kindly donated to the museum.’

‘I’d rather prise Elizbieta away from that man.’

Adam smiled as Elizbieta cornered a terrified Pajewski. ‘Don’t worry, she’s safe with him.’

‘But is he safe with her?’ Feliks asked seriously.

Adam looked away from Feliks to the corner where Magdalena was talking to her brothers. ‘Will you excuse me?’

‘You’ve a good man in Edmund Dunst.’ His grandfather waylaid him before he reached Magdalena. ‘We should offer him a part-time consultancy. Something he can do alongside his work here.’

‘I take it you intend to pay him a retainer?’

‘He can’t live on the pittance they pay him here.’

‘Most people earn pittances here.’

‘You don’t.’ His grandfather frowned. ‘I intend to send some of our American staff over to see Edmund’s work. Imaginative layout, dark blue velvet goes well with amber, and the amber studded lampshades are a superb touch.’

‘Perhaps you ought to consider putting Edmund’s wife on the payroll as well as him. The subdued lighting was Helena’s idea, perhaps she suspected that people would be better off not knowing what’s in these canapés.’

‘Are you ever going to grow up, Adam?’

‘I’m trying.’ He couldn’t keep his eyes off Magdalena and the old man noticed.

‘She reminds me of your grandmother. God, how I miss her! She was a real woman. Comparing her to some of the females you meet nowadays is like setting wholesome, plain, old-fashioned cooking that satisfies, to this fancy nouvelle cuisine that only tickles your palate.’

‘It’s not Magdalena’s cooking I’m interested in.’

‘But I bet she can cook?’

‘She can,’ Adam agreed, thinking of all the meals she’d prepared and they’d allowed to get cold since she’d moved into his apartment in Mariacka Street.

‘She’s not the prettiest girl you’ve been out with, but she’s good for you, Adam.’

‘She’s married.’

‘I heard her husband left her.’

‘He’ll be away a long time.’

‘Then there’s nothing to stop you jumping into his place.’

‘I’ve jumped.’

‘Glad to hear it. I called into an international school in Switzerland on the way here. Her brothers liked it. Poland needs young men of their calibre to guide it into the future. A little international education won’t hurt.’

‘Magdalena won’t allow it. She hates charity.’

‘What charity? The boys sat the entrance examination. They won scholarships.’

‘Salen Institute scholarships?’ Adam guessed.

‘They’re the first recipients. And they both know Poland’s their home if that’s what you’re worried about.’

‘That’s not what I’m worried about.’

‘You look sick, boy, why don’t you have an early night, and take her,’ he nodded to Magdalena, ‘with you. We can manage perfectly well without you here.’

‘I’ll take you up on that. Lunch tomorrow?’

‘Maybe, if I don’t get lucky with one of the croupiers in the casino tonight.’

‘Believe me. You’ll be a lot luckier if they leave you alone.’

‘Your grandfather’s great, Adam,’ Jan said.

‘Mr Salen,’ Magdalena interrupted.

‘He’s promised to take us to the casino tonight.’

‘Neither of you are old enough,’ Magdalena objected.

‘That won’t stop my grandfather,’ Adam smiled. ‘He took me to a Texas whorehouse for my twelfth birthday treat.’

‘Adam!’ Magdalena exclaimed, shocked.

‘You two told your sister your news?’

‘Yes, but she won’t let us go.’ Jan’s mouth set into a thin line of disappointment.

‘Really?’ Adam leaned against the wall because he was tired of trying to support himself and his aches and pains.

‘I told you we don’t accept charity,’ Magdalena lectured Jan.

‘Didn’t they tell you they won scholarships?’

‘Yes, but … ’

‘Be a shame to let all that money go to waste.’

‘I don’t know … ’

‘If my grandfather picked it out, it’s a good school. Georgiana and I turned out the way we did because he wasn’t allowed to have a say in our education.’

‘Please, Magda,’ Wiktor pleaded.

‘Now is not the time to discuss it.’

Adam winked at the boys. ‘Help yourself to wine and whatever food’s going, we’ll see you tomorrow.’

‘You and your grandfather are undermining my authority with them,’ Magdalena complained.

‘A little spoiling and grandfatherly corruption never did anyone any harm.’

‘It’s an expensive school.’

‘They’re always the most brutal.’ He steered Magdalena towards the stairs.

‘Where are we going?’

‘My office.’

‘You should be back in bed, not climbing stairs,’ she scolded as he winced.

‘I’ll not argue with that, provided you join me.’ He stepped inside, closed the door and drew the blinds before opening the cupboard that concealed the safe. He removed a small box. ‘Something to go with the earrings.’

‘I can’t possibly accept any more presents from you.’

‘It didn’t cost me a penny. It’s a gift from grateful citizens who know that you single-handedly and courageously averted an anthrax outbreak that could have decimated the population of Poland.’

She opened the box and stared down at the contents.

‘Princess Dorothea had a lot of jewellery. No one is going to miss one small ring.’

‘It’s not small – it’s –’

‘The shank had to be replaced. It wouldn’t have been authentic. Feliks renovated it for me. I thought it could be our unwedding ring.’

‘What’s an unwedding? Some strange American custom?’

‘You’re married, I’m married, it’s messy, but it doesn’t have to be. It could be gloriously simple. I’ve become accustomed to having a nanny looking after me again. I’m asking you to stay with me, Lena. For ever,’ he added, so there’d be no mistake.

‘I’ll have to think about it.’

‘Take all the time you want.’ He bent his head to hers. ‘Preferably the rest of your life.’

Hermann von Balk is an actual historical figure. His thirteenth century Teutonic Crusade which began in 1231, led to the formation of the Prussian State.

Helmut von Mau and the Princess Woberg/Maria are creations of my imagination. The legend of a canonised Teutonic Knight’s head encased in amber is widespread in the Baltic States; unfortunately, I failed to track it down to any recorded historical fact. Several prominent medieval historians believe that at least one of the plagues that swept across Europe between the twelfth and fourteenth centuries was anthrax.

The contemporary amber workers, Krefta and Malek, are fictional. The artefacts produced by George Schrieber’s seventeenth century Konigsberg workshop can be seen in the world’s finest museums. Princess Dorothea existed in the sixteenth century and ten of her crystal cut amber beads are on display in the Amber Museum in Malbork Castle.

Very little of the treasure the Nazis looted from Russia and Poland during the war and stored in Konigsberg castle until the Russian invasion in January 1945, when it disappeared, has been seen since. It included the legendary Amber Room, (which has since been recreated and completed in Tsarkoe Selo in St Petersburg) but my theory that the treasure was taken to the bunker city Hitler built at Rastenburg, and named the Wolfschanze, or Wolf’s Lair, prior to the invasion of East Prussia, is pure speculation.

On the ground floor of 52 Mariacka Street, is a well-stocked modern art gallery. Adam Salen’s apartment on the top floor is the office of the Gdansk Branch of the Union of Polish Writers.

All the museums in Gdansk are characterised by their lack of exhibits. The Salen Foundation and its funding are, unfortunately for Gdansk and Poland, figments of my imagination. The Historical Museum in the main town in Gdansk has an entire floor devoted to photographs of exhibits which disappeared during the Second World War and appeals along the line of – if you see this please contact –