and some of ‘the kids got up a scratch bail team… there was more homework… you know… things just came up.’
‘You had less time.’
‘Less time, that’s right The work in high school was a lot harder… making the grades to get into college.’
‘But Todd is a very apt pupil,’ Monica said almost automatically. ‘He graduated salutatorian. We were so proud.’
‘I’ll bet you were,’ Richler said with a warm smile. ‘I’ve got two boys in Fairview, down in the valley, and they’re just about able to keep their sports eligibility.’ He turned back to Todd. ‘You didn’t read him any more books after you started high school?’
‘No. Once in a while I’d read him the paper. I’d come over and he’d ask me what the headlines were. He was interested in Watergate when that was going on. And he always wanted to know about the stock market, and the print on that page used to drive him batshit — sorry, Mom.’
She patted his hand.
‘I don’t know why he was interested in the stocks, but he was.’
‘He had a few stocks,’ Richler said. ‘That’s how he was getting by. You want to hear a really crazy coincidence? The man who made the investments for him was convicted on a murder charge in the late forties. Dussander had five different sets of ID salted around that house. He was a cagey one, all right’
‘I suppose he kept the stocks in a safe deposit box somewhere,’ Todd remarked.
‘Pardon me?’ Richler raised his eyebrows.
‘His stocks,’ Todd said. His father, who had also looked puzzled, now nodded at Richler.
‘His stock certificates were in a footlocker under his bed,’ Richler said, ‘along with that photo of him as Denker. Did he have a safety deposit box, son? Did he ever say he did?’
Todd thought, and then shook his head. ‘I just thought that was where you kept your stocks. I don’t know. This… this whole thing has just… you know… it blows my wheels.’ He shook his head in a dazed way that was perfectly real. He really was dazed. Yet, little by little, he felt his instincts of self-preservation surfacing. He felt a growing alertness, and the first stirrings of confidence. If Dussander had really taken a safety deposit box in which to store his insurance document, wouldn’t he have transferred his stock certificates there? And that photograph?
‘We’re working with the Israelis on this,’ Richler said. ‘In a very unofficial way. I’d be grateful if you didn’t mention that if you decide to see any press people. They’re real professionals. There’s a man named Weiskopf who’d like to talk to you tomorrow, Todd. If that’s okay by you and your folks.’
‘I guess so,’ Todd said, but he felt a touch of atavistic dread at the thought of being sniffed over by the same hounds that had chased Dussander for the last third of his life. Dussander had had a healthy respect for them, and Todd knew he would do well to keep that in mind.
‘Mr and Mrs Bowden? Do you have any objections to Todd seeing Mr Weiskopf?’
‘Not if Todd doesn’t,’ Dick Bowden said. ‘I’d like to be present, though. I’ve read about these Mossad characters—’
‘Weiskopf isn’t Mossad. He’s what the Israelis call a special operative. In fact, he teaches Yiddish grammar — if you can believe that — and English Literature. Also, he’s written two novels.’ Richler smiled.
Dick raised a hand, dismissing it ‘Whatever he is, I’m not going to let him badger Todd. From what I’ve read, these fellows can be a little too professional. Maybe he’s okay. But I want you and this Weiskopf to remember that Todd tried to help that old man. He was flying under false colours, but Todd didn’t know that’
That’s okay, dad,’ Todd said with a wan smile.
‘I just want you to help us all that you can,’ Richler said. ‘I appreciate your concern, Mr Bowden. I think you’re going to find that Weiskopf is a pleasant, low-pressure kind of guy. I’ve finished my own questions, but I’ll break a little ground by telling you what the Israelis are most interested it Todd was with Dussander when he had the heart attack that landed him in the hospital—’
‘He asked me to come over and read him a letter,’ Todd said.
‘We know.’ Richler leaned forward, elbows on his knees, tie swinging out to form a plumb-line to the floor. 'The Israelis want to know about that letter. Dussander was a big fish, but he wasn’t the last one in the lake — or so Sam Weiskopf says, and I believe him. They think Dussander might have known about a lot of the other fish. Most of those still alive are probably in South America, but there may be others in a dozen countries… including the United States. Did you know they collared a man who had been an Unterkommandant at Buchenwald in the lobby of a Tel Aviv hotel?’
‘Really!’ Monica said, her eyes widening.
‘Really,’ Richler nodded. Two years ago. The point is just that the Israelis think the letter Dussander wanted Todd to read might have been from one of those other fish. Maybe they’re right, maybe they’re wrong. Either way, they want to know.’
Todd, who had gone back to Dussander’s house and burned the letter, said: I’d help you — or this Weiskopf — if I could, Lieutenant Richler, but the letter was in German. It was really tough to read. I felt like a fool. Mr Denker… Dussander… kept getting more excited and asking me to spell the words he couldn’t understand because of my, you know, pronunciation. But I guess he was following ail right. I remember once he laughed and said, 'Yes, yes, that is what you’d do, isn’t it?' Then he said something in German. This was about two or three minutes before he had the heart attack. Something about Dummkop. That means stupid in German, I think.’
He was looking at Richler uncertainly, inwardly quite pleased with this lie.
Richler was nodding. ‘Yes, we can understand that the letter was in German. The admitting doctor heard the story from you and corroborated it. But the letter itself, Todd… do you remember what happened to it?’
Here it is, Todd thought. The crunch.
‘I guess it was still on the table when the ambulance came. When we all left. I couldn’t testify to it in court, but—’
‘I think there was a letter on the table,’ Dick said. ‘I picked something up and glanced at it Airmail stationery, I think, but I didn’t notice it was written in German.’
Then it should still be there,’ Richler said. That’s what we can’t figure out’
‘It’s not?’ Dick said. ‘I mean, it wasn’t?’
‘It wasn’t and it isn’t’
‘Maybe somebody broke in,’ Monica suggested.
'There would have been no need to break in,’ Richler said. ‘In the confusion of getting him out, the house was never locked. Dussander himself never thought to ask someone to lock up, apparently. His latchkey was still in the pocket of his pants when he died His house was unlocked from the time the MED-Q attendants wheeled him out until we sealed it this morning at 2:30 a.m.’
‘Weil, there you are,’ Dick said.
‘No,’ Todd said. ‘I see what’s bugging Lieutenant Richler.’ Oh yes, he saw it very well. You’d have to be blind to miss it ‘Why would a burglar steal nothing but a letter? Especially one written in German? It doesn’t listen. Mr Denker didn’t have much to steal, but a guy who broke in could find something better than that’
‘You’ve got it, all right,’ Richler said. ‘Not bad.’
Todd used to want to be a detective when he grew up,’ Monica said, and ruffled Todd’s hair a bit Since he had gotten big he seemed to object to that, but right now he didn’t seem to mind. God, she hated to see him looking so pale. ‘I guess he’s changed his mind to history these days.’
‘History is a good field,’ Richler said. ‘You can be an investigative historian. Have you ever read Josephine Tey?’
‘No, sir.’
‘Doesn’t matter. I just wish my boys had some ambition greater than seeing the Angels win the pennant this year.’
Todd offered a wan smile and said nothing.
Richler turned serious again. ‘Anyway, I’ll tell you the theory we’re going on. We figure that someone, probably right here in Santa Donate, knew who and what Dussander was.’
‘Really?’ Dick said.
‘Oh yes. Someone who knew the truth. Maybe another fugitive Nazi. I know that sounds like Robert Ludlum
