the Amber Room

too. . . . Oh, still have not heard from him? A shame. I'll have the plane at your landing field by five-thirty. I'll see you soon.'

Loring hung up and sighed. 'Such a pity. To the end, Franz continues to maintain the charade.'

FIFTY

Prague, Czech Republic

6:50 p.m.

The sleek gold-and-gray corporate jet rolled across the tarmac and settled to a stop. The engines whined down. Suzanne stood with Loring in the dim light of late evening as workers nestled metal stairs close to the open hatch. Franz Fellner exited first, dressed in a dark suit and tie. Monika followed, sporting a white turtleneck, navy blue silhouette blazer, and tight-fitting jeans. Typical, Suzanne thought. A vile mix of breeding and sexuality. And though Monika Fellner had just stepped off a multimillion-dollar private jet at one of Europe's premier metropolitan airports, her face reflected the disdain of someone clearly slumming.

Only three years separated them, with Monika the elder. Monika started attending club functions a couple of years back, making no secret of the fact that she would someday succeed her father. Everything had come so easily to her. Suzanne's life had been so radically different. Though she'd grown up at the Loring estate, she was always expected to work hard, study hard, acquire hard. She'd wondered many times if Knoll was a divisive factor between them. Monika had made it clear more than once that she considered Christian her property. Until a few hours ago, when Loring told her Castle Loukov would one day be hers, she'd never considered a life like Monika Fellner's. But that reality was now at hand, and she couldn't help but wonder what dear Monika would think if she knew they would soon be equals.

Loring stepped forward and briskly shook Fellner's hand. He then hugged and kissed Monika lightly on the cheek. Fellner acknowledged Suzanne with a smile and a polite nod, club member to Acquisitor.

The drive to Castle Loukov in Loring's touring Mercedes was pleasant and relatively quiet, the talk of politics and business. Dinner was waiting in the dining hall when they arrived. As the main course was served, Fellner asked in German, 'What is so urgent, Ernst, that we need to speak this evening?'

Suzanne noticed that, so far, Loring had kept the mood friendly, using light conversation to put his guests at ease. Her employer sighed. 'It is the matter of Christian and Suzanne.'

Monika cut Suzanne a look, one she'd seen before and grown to hate.

'I know,' Loring said, 'that Christian was unharmed in the mine explosion. As I am sure you know, Suzanne caused the explosion.'

Fellner set his knife and fork on the table and faced his host. 'We are aware of both.'

'Yet you continued to tell me the past two days you knew nothing of Christian's whereabouts.'

'Frankly, I did not consider the information any of your business. At the same time I kept wondering, why all the interest?' Fellner's tone had harshened, the need for appearances seemingly gone.

'I know of Christian's visit to St. Petersburg two weeks ago. In fact, that is what started all this.'

'We assumed you were paying the clerk.' Monika's tone was brusque, more so than her father's.

'Again, Ernst, what is this visit about?' Fellner asked.

'The Amber Room,' Loring slowly said.

'What of it?'

'Finish your dinner. Then we will talk.'

'Truthfully, I am not hungry. You fly me three hundred kilometers on short notice to talk, so let us talk.'

Loring folded his napkin. 'Very well, Franz. You and Monika come with me.'

Suzanne followed as Loring led their guests through the castle's ground-floor maze. The wide corridors wound past rooms adorned with priceless art and antiques. This was Loring's public collection, the result of six decades of personal acquiring and another ten decades before that by his father, grandfather, and great- grandfather. Some of the most valuable objects in the world rested in the surrounding chambers--the full extent of Loring's public collection was known only to her and her employer, all protected behind thick stone walls and the anonymity a rural estate in a former Communist-bloc country provided.

And soon it would all be hers.

'I am about to breach one of our sacred rules,' Loring said. 'As a demonstration of my good faith, I intend to show you my private collection.'

'Is that necessary?' Fellner asked.

'I believe it is.'

They passed Loring's study and continued down a long hall to a solitary room at the end. It was a tight rectangle, topped by a groined vault ceiling with murals that depicted the zodiac and portraits of the Apostles. A massive delft tile stove consumed one corner. Walnut display cases lined the walls, their seventeenth-century wood inlaid with African ivory. The glass shelves brimmed with sixteenth- and seventeenth-century porcelain. Fellner and Monika took a moment and admired some of the pieces.

'The Romanesque Room,' Loring said. 'I don't know if you two have been here before.'

'I haven't,' Fellner said.

'Neither have I,' Monika said.

'I keep most of my precious glass here.' Loring gestured to the tiled stove. 'Merely for looks, the air comes from there.' He pointed to a floor grate. 'Special air handlers, as I am sure you utilize.'

Fellner nodded.

'Suzanne,' Loring said.

She stepped before one of the wooden cases, fourth in a line of six, and slowly said in a low voice, 'A common experience resulting in a common confusion.' The cabinet and a section of the stone wall rotated on a center axis, stopping halfway, creating an entrance to either side.

'Voice activated to my tone and Suzanne's. Some members of the staff know of this room. It, of course, has to be cleaned from time to time. But, as I am sure with your people, Franz, mine are absolutely loyal and have never spoken of this outside the estate. To be safe, though, we change the password weekly.'

'This week's is interesting,' Fellner said. 'Kafka, I believe. The opening line to A Common Confusion. How fitting.'

Loring grinned. 'We must be loyal to our Bohemian writers.'

Suzanne stepped aside and allowed Fellner and Monika to enter first. Monika brushed past, casting her a look of cool disgust. She then followed Loring inside. The spacious chamber beyond was dotted with more display cases, paintings and tapestries.

'I am sure you have a similar place,' Loring said to Fellner. 'This is from over two hundred years of collecting. The past forty with the club.'

Fellner and Monika weaved through the individual cases.

'Marvelous things,' Fellner said. 'Very impressive. I recall many from unveilings. But, Ernst, you have been holding back.' Fellner stood in front of a blackened skull encased in glass. 'Peking Man?'

'Our family has possessed it since the war.'

'As I recall, it was lost in China during transport to the United States.'

Loring nodded. 'Father acquired it from the thief who stole it from the marines in charge.'

'Amazing. This dates our ancestry back a half million years. The Chinese and Americans would kill to have it returned. Yet here it rests, in the middle of Bohemia. We live in odd times, don't we?'

'Quite right, old friend. Quite right.' Loring motioned to the double doors at the far end of the long chamber. 'There, Franz.'

Fellner walked toward a set of tall enameled doors. They were painted white and veined in gilded molding. Monika followed her father.

'Go ahead. Open them,' Loring said.

Suzanne noticed that, for once, Monika kept her mouth shut. Fellner reached for the brass handles, twisted them, and pushed the doors inward.