“Take this, too. It’s a letter of introduction, signed by me. Sometimes it opens doors. Other times it slams them, so use it sparingly.”
Holland unlatched the door, but Nat had one more question.
“Are you sure Gordon’s death was an accident?”
“Why do you ask?”
“You didn’t answer the question.”
“Maybe we don’t know the answer yet.”
“Well, if it wasn’t, who’s to say they won’t try the same thing with me?”
“Don’t worry. We’ll be keeping an eye on you. You won’t always see us, but we’ll be around.”
“How come that only bothers me more?”
“Look, I won’t sugarcoat it. The competition isn’t exactly known for playing by the rules. But let’s not make this worse than it is.”
“Speaking of which, what’s up with this Middle Eastern fellow you’re looking for? Is he with the competition?”
“Who told you about him?”
“Willis Turner.”
Holland snorted.
“Now there’s a piece of work. He’s freelancing for someone. Him and that sleazeball judge. Guarantee it.”
“Who?”
“We don’t know yet. But you should regard him and anyone else who crosses your path as competition.”
Too bad Nat had already copied the documents for Turner, but a deal was a deal. And Nat couldn’t rat out the cop without admitting to having his own set of copies. Holland obviously suspected as much, but it would be foolhardy to come out and say so.
“Sounds like a pretty crowded field of people who are looking for this,” Nat said. “Some unspecified foreign government, which may or may not include this loose character from the Middle East, plus whoever Willis Turner is working for, and now me.”
“Don’t forget your German. Actually, maybe you should forget her.”
“Why? She might be a big help.”
“We don’t know her background. Neither do you.”
“Historian. Ph.D. from the Free University of Berlin. She’s a pro, too, you know.”
“So she says. Growing up in East Berlin isn’t exactly a point in her favor.”
“Still fighting the Cold War?”
“They had some pretty strong and unsavory Middle Eastern connections on their side of the Wall. Especially among students.”
“She
“Just saying. Forewarned is forearmed.”
“I’ll keep that in mind.”
“Try not to share too much. Keep her at arm’s length.”
It was a little disturbing hearing the agent say exactly what he had been thinking only moments ago, while looking through Gordon’s little treasure box.
“Sharing is the way it works,” he said, trying to convince himself as much as Holland. “It’s the only way you make progress as a team.”
“Slept with her yet?”
“None of your business. But no.”
“I expect that’s about to change.”
“Are you guys experts on relationships now?”
“You’ll see.”
Holland smiled and slipped out of the car. Nat waited for the Suburban to drive off, so the agent wouldn’t be tempted to follow. Then Nat, too, headed down the mountain. Ten minutes later, weary and dazed from the long and emotional day, he slowly climbed the stairs to his garret.
He opened the door to find Berta Heinkel waiting on the bed in the dark.
She was awake, eyes glimmering in the moonlight. Just as in his dream, she wore a short nightgown of white silk. Sleek and smooth, like her skin.
So much for keeping her at arm’s length.
ELEVEN
Nat switched on the light to make sure his eyes weren’t deceiving him. In the instant glare from the overhead bulb Berta threw an arm across her face and pulled up the sheets.
“I tried to reach you,” she said through her fingers. “I was scared. There was nowhere else to go, so I came here.”
“Scared of what?”
“Someone had searched my room. I think they were looking for the memory chips.”
“You sure it wasn’t just the innkeeper tidying up? These B &Bs are pretty finicky.”
“They’d picked the lock. Things were missing from my suitcase.”
Nat saw her suitcase now, lying open on the floor. The nightgown wasn’t the only silky item. She had packed well for this kind of scene. He was tempted to sit on the bed, then thought better of it and opted for the chair, still clutching the wooden box. Maybe it was that Berta’s ambition made him wary, or that Gordon had called her a damned nuisance and then dropped dead. Or maybe it was that he would have enjoyed nothing better right now than to snuggle up next to her on the bed.
Her eyes had adjusted to the light and she looked better than ever. Shoulders bare, except for the white silk straps. Hair in suggestive disarray.
“You’re good at this, aren’t you?” he said.
“Good at what?”
“Manipulating people.”
He had expected to get a rise out of her, but she took it in stride.
“I can be. When there’s something I want badly enough. But not with you.”
“How do you see that?”
“Because we both want the same thing. You might just as easily manipulate me.”
He smiled, admiring her skill.
“Holland returned our cameras, by the way. I don’t know if you were able to tell yet from our work this afternoon, but you were right about the boxes. Four folders are missing. The feds have asked me to find the missing items. On their tab. Interested?”
She nodded, but surprised him by showing no sign of excitement.
“Where do you think we should start?” she asked.
The sheet slipped farther down her torso, showing some cleavage. Healthy tone to her skin for this early in the spring, yet no hint of a tan line. Of course, topless sunbathing wasn’t exactly taboo in Europe. Nat cleared his throat, hoping to also clear his head.
“I was thinking Baltimore.” He figured that would get a reaction, but her face remained blank. He opened the old box in a way that kept her from seeing the contents, and pulled out the key. “This fits a storage locker there. It’s our first stop.”
“All right. Are they paying my way, too?”
“Long as I’m in charge.”
“Good. I’ve maxed out my credit cards. We’d better get some sleep. Shall you take the floor, or I?”
Well, he supposed that answered one question.
“Throw me a pillow.”
