“Why don’t we skip the drink and I just get you home?”
“No,” she yelled, surprising the only other passenger in their train car. Then she did a little drunken dance, all hips and gyrating with clumsily snapping fingers above her head. “One more drink…you promised.”
“Fine. One more drink.”
They ascended the elevator into the iconic Frankfurt Bahnhof, finding very little activity other than a few travelers coming and going on late night trains.
“Just one more,” Ursula cajoled as Gage led her through the cavernous east concourse that led to the exit. Ahead of him was another sprawling plaza and, beyond, the Red Light District. Just across the wide street was the old faithful of Frankfurt bars, the Irish pub known as O’Reilly’s. It had been there as long as Gage could remember. He pondered how many thousands of travelers, through the years, had taken a drink at O’Reilly’s while they waited for their train.
The sign outside claimed the pub closed at 4 A.M. but Gage wondered if the place ever truly closed. Though there wasn’t much of a crowd; a group of people stood three deep at the bar watching American football being broadcast from the U.S. Gage ordered one more rum and Coke, with a cherry, for Ursula, and a mineral water for himself. He led her to a table in the rear of the bar and placed her drink in front of her.
“Okay, there’s your drink. Now, will you please tell me what you know about Karl Vogel?”
“He really liked my hand-jobs,” she blurted, sniggering after. “Oh, man…I was crying earlier and now I sound like a regular ol’ whore.”
Gage shut his eyes. “Other than hand-jobs.”
“I helped him,” she said, sipping her drink through the hollow stirrer. “Helped him with all kinds of stuff.”
“Like what?”
“I’d run errands for him. I’d take envelopes to people…hand delivered. Drop off huge checks. Crazy shit like that.” She was slurring her words badly.
“Ursula, was he in any kind of business with other people that was supposed to be a secret?”
She began to laugh, snorting as she clutched her stomach. “That’s pretty much all he was in.”
“What do you mean?”
“Secret stuff…that’s all he ever did.”
“With whom?”
“I don’t know.”
“Then who did you take notes to? Where did you take checks?”
She tossed the stirrer aside and took a large gulp of her drink. She clinched a piece of ice between her front teeth as she answered. “Never knew who they were for.”
“Where would you take them?”
“Lawyers’ offices. Always.”
“Which ones?”
“Can’t remember which ones. Most here in Frankfurt.”
Gage tilted his head backward in frustration. “What would the attorneys say to you?”
“It was always assistants and paralegals. They’d give me sealed envelopes to bring back.”
“Did you see what was in them?”
“No way. Karl gave me lots of money. Why would I look?” she asked, popping the cherry into her mouth.
“So, you were just a runner?”
“Just a runner, and a sex toy.”
Ursula was listing severely. Gage slid into the booth next to her, giving her a little shake. “Don’t fall asleep, Ursula. Stay up for me.”
She rubbed his leg. “Mmm…want you next to me.”
“I am next to you.” He put his arm around her, trying to keep her up. “You mentioned something about Karl’s childhood?”
“Told me one night…awful…some uncle of his abused him. Sick stuff.”
“When he was young?”
“When he was a kid. Terrible.”
I agree, but then he turns around and does the same thing?
“Ursula, did you ever hear the name Vincent ‘Il Magnifico’ Colombo? Did Karl ever mention him?”
“Yes.”
Gage’s heart leapt. “What was said?”
“Nothing. Just heard the name once.”
“In what context?”
“Had to call him.”
“Who had to call him?”
“Karl did.”
“About what?”
“No idea. You asked, so I told you. That’s all I remember. Who’d forget that name?”
“Anything else?”
“No. Kiss me.”
Gage gave her a small peck. “How about Rainer Schulz?” he asked.
“Hated him.”
“You or Karl?”
“Karl…Karl hated him after that argument they had.”
“Was there anymore about that argument you can tell me?”
“That was all.”
“Did Karl mention him again?”
“Once.”
“What did he say?”
“Karl was scared of him. Said he was dangerous.”
“Dangerous?”
“Yes. Karl was scared.”
“You said that. Anything else?”
“Nope.”
“What about other people? Any other business associates?”
“Just attorneys and bankers. No one specific.”
“No one?”
“Like I said…attorneys and bankers. He didn’t even know them. He’d sign papers and that’d be that. I’d take the notes and bring back the envelopes.” She sipped her dwindling drink and nuzzled Gage’s neck.
“Did you read the notes?”
“No, silly. He always sealed them.”
“What about Michael Boden?”
“What about him?”
“Was Karl in business with him?”
“No.”
“Were they friends?”
“I guess. Herr Ministerpräsident liked Frau Claudia better.” Ursula eyed Gage and smiled licentiously. “And he used to fuck Katja.”
Even though he knew they’d been involved, Gage flinched at the crude mention of Katja and Boden.
“Could Boden have been involved with Karl’s business?”
“No. Just used Karl for money and influence.” She turned her head to Gage. “Be with me, Gage. Tonight.”
“Anyone else?”
“I want you now.”
“Was Karl working with anyone else?” Gage asked, frustrated.
She rolled her eyes. “None that I remember.”
“If someone had
