floating in Lake Geneva. The investigation had revealed a deficiency of close to 400 million Swiss francs related to a shady resort project.
“I would have thought it’s Jewish money from the war,” Christopher said. “But the Banking Association has recently sent another survey.”
“Only twenty-six banks responded to the questionnaires about dormant accounts.”
“Didn’t they find a lot of money?”
“Peanuts. In September they informed the World Jewish Organization that they had found eight hundred and ninety-three pre-war accounts with a total value of thirty-four point one million U.S. dollars and that they would continue to search. I assure you the Hoffgeitz Bank reported no such accounts.”
“But Herr Hoffgeitz would not lie to the association, would he?”
“ Not blatantly.” Lemmy recalled watching his father-in-law rephrasing his response to the commission to fit the idea that the account was not completely inactive because of a single attempted withdrawal in 1967. But this wasn’t something Christopher should know. “I need you to think creatively. Find a path around Gunter’s secrecy. We must find out what he’s hiding and take control of whatever it is before it becomes a problem for the bank.”
*
The El Al flight from Tel Aviv to Zurich was only half-full, and Tanya managed to sleep for most of the time. She travelled alone, her hair covered with a headscarf, her face behind oversized sunglasses. Passport control was quick at this early hour, and she had no luggage.
She bought a cup of coffee and wandered up and down the terminal, trying to shake off a feeling that she was being watched. The people around her seemed like the typical purposeful travelers, and she could trace no tail. It must have been her own unease, travelling without escort for the first time since she had taken command of Mossad’s European operations a few years earlier.
Tanya found a bank of pay phones. She had committed to memory the telephone number for the Hoffgeitz Bank. There was little to go on-the name of the bank executive who had signed the wire transfer to Senlis, which ultimately resulted in Elie’s successful elimination of Abu Yusuf and the Saudi prince. But she had a hunch that Elie must have planted a mole inside the bank. There was only one way to find out.
*
The phone rang and Lemmy picked it up. “Wilhelm Horch here.”
“ I have a message for you.” It was a woman, speaking German with a Bavarian accent. “From Elie Weiss.”
“Excuse me?” Lemmy watched Christopher get up and leave the office.
“I have a message from Elie Weiss.”
“You have the wrong number.” He heard a click and noticed Christopher’s line light up. Turning to his computer, Lemmy hit the keys for the video surveillance system.
“Aren’t you Herr Horch of the Hoffgeitz Bank in Zurich?”
Lemmy selected the camera in Christopher’s office. On the computer screen, his assistant was holding the receiver to his ear, listening. Lemmy hung up.
On the screen, Christopher put down the receiver.
Two minutes later, the phone rang again. The delay told him that she was probably dialing the general number of the bank and following the automatic directory instructions to reach his line.
He pressed the speaker button. “Yes?”
Behind the wall, Christopher picked up his receiver and listened.
“Don’t hang up.” She had a calm voice, almost familiar.
“ You have the wrong person.”
“Elie Weiss is incapacitated. You must talk to me now. Or would you prefer that I show up in your office?”
“We open at nine a.m., if you’d like to come in.” There was something in her voice that interfered with his clear thinking. But with Christopher on the line, there was no time to hesitate. “Good-bye.” He hung up, went to the door, and opened it.
Christopher’s hand was still on the receiver. He looked up, blushing.
“ Please go downstairs,” Lemmy said, “and ask the account managers to search their client lists for the last name Weiss. Someone called me, and I thought it was a wrong number, but now I realize it could be a client of one of the others-”
“ I can look it up on my computer. Other than Herr Hoffgeitz’s accounts, we have all the account owners’ names in the database.”
“ I already looked,” Lemmy lied. “Perhaps the account is registered to a corporation. The account managers would recognize a name if it’s the trustee or the executive related to the account, even if the name on the account is different.”
The phone started ringing. Christopher reached to answer it.
“ I’ll take it in my office. You go downstairs and ask around.” He waited, watching Christopher leave. Back at his desk, Lemmy answered.
“ Don’t play games with me, Herr Horch.”
“Lindenhof Park,” he said. “It’s at the top end of Oetenbachgasse. Five thirty this evening.”
“That’s better,” she said, and the line went dead.
Lemmy turned to the window. The sky was gray and bleak. He forced himself to think clearly. Elie’s agent, Grant Guerra, had called yesterday with a message that could only come from Elie: Launch CFS! But the woman who had just called could not be speaking for Elie, who would never allow the use of his real name on a phone line. But how did she know Elie’s name and that he was incapacitated? And if she wasn’t part of SOD, who was she? Not an agent for any European law enforcement agency, that was certain, or she would have arrived at the bank for an official meeting, escorted by a Swiss detective, speaking politely and expecting no answers. And an official would not agree to meet at a public park on a drizzly evening.
Was she an agent for Mossad? No. There was no trace of a Hebrew accent in her speech, which he identified as purely native German from Bavaria. And Mossad wouldn’t dare harass a senior Swiss banker in such a direct manner for fear of causing a diplomatic skirmish with Switzerland, which was highly protective of its banks. A Palestinians agent? Unlikely. Judging by her speech and haughty, clipped style of interaction, she was German through and through.
Could she belong to the same Nazi organization as Christopher? Perhaps Elie had crossed swords with them, so to speak, or had even eliminated one of their Nazi elders years ago, causing them to follow him, trace him, and discover his connection to Lemmy. Had they planted Christopher at the Hoffgeitz Bank because of Elie? Was this German woman operating as Christopher’s Nazi handler? That would explain how she knew that Elie was incapacitated: Christopher had told her after eavesdropping on the call from Grant Guerra!
But did it really matter how she knew about Elie or his connection to Lemmy? She endangered his cover as Wilhelm Horch, a successful, respectable banker. Therefore she endangered his life!
Paula and Klaus Junior looked back from the photograph on his desk.
What should he do?
That wasn’t the correct question, which was: What would Elie do?
After almost three decades of working for Elie, Lemmy knew the answer, especially now, as they were finally nearing control of the Koenig fortune, about to launch the most ambitious secret program in the history of the Jewish nation-an end to centuries of anti-Semitic genocide. The order from Elie had been consistent with the mission. Launch CFS! But this German woman was an enemy. There was no doubt what Elie would do in this situation. Eliminate her!
Lemmy looked around his office-the wood furnishings, the Persian rugs, the soft leather chairs, the original paintings on the walls, and the family photographs on his desk. This was his world. The woman posed an existential risk. He must respond in kind. And then it would be Christopher’s turn-force him to divulge his true identity and who he worked for, and then make him pay the ultimate price of betrayal. Perhaps that’s what Elie had meant when ordering Launch CFS! Did Elie know that these modern-day Nazis were on his tail? Did he expect Lemmy’s first action in the Counter Final Solution campaign to be the elimination of Christopher and his cohorts?
Kneeling by the small safe, Lemmy turned the knob left and right until it clicked. He took out the box with the Mauser.
*
