Chapter 26: Following the Clues
Neal was handcuffed once more for the drive to the chalet despite his protests that he wasn't about to escape. While he had the thrill of riding in the van with Boris the Bloodhound and the other guards, Kate and Adler rode in the sedan. Adler was undoubtedly grilling her on what she'd learned from Neal.
Did she think Neal was still in love with her? He'd given her a few subtle hints, hoping to stoke any lingering embers. He'd take all the allies he could get, even the treacherous ones.
He wished he could have seen the road during the drive but he was instead forced to imagine the mountainous terrain. When they arrived at the chalet, his pal Boris finally condescended to remove his manacles. Neal was still shaky. When he didn't immediately bounce up, Boris grabbed him by the collar and gave him a boost. Neal ramped up his weakness, holding onto the side of the truck as he slowly walked to the back. He took his time to scramble awkwardly off the tailgate and faked a trip. Boris had to grab onto him to keep him from falling.
They were parked in the front on a circular drive. The chalet was in a small clearing surrounded by tall firs. There were no vehicles that he could see but the curve in the road limited visibility. The trees provided good concealment. Neal took a moment to imagine Mozzie, Peter, and Travis hiding in the woods. Were they wearing their disguises? How grouchy was Peter about his mustache? It was reassuring to think they were monitoring him, recording his every move.
Boris was on his right-hand side. Other guards were behind him. Neal used his left hand on his pants leg to tap a Morse code message and hoped his friends would see it. B-R-I-D-G-E. His safe word. Don't be fooled by my act. No need for the cavalry.
Travis had prepared tracking devices to place under Vincent's car. He was a firm believer in redundancy. He would have brought along extras in case one failed. He'd have ample for two vehicles. The team was doing their job. It was up to Neal to do his—find those directions.
Adler had an arsenal of tools for Neal to use to disable the alarm. Some of them he wouldn't mind having for his personal collection. He hoped to confiscate them after the con.
The security alarm was identical to the one in place when Klaus and Neal entered the house four years ago. Klaus had demonstrated a neat trick to disarm it by slipping paper between the top of the door and the doorframe.
"You have any paper with you?" Neal asked.
Adler's brow furrowed. "What do you need paper for?"
"I assume you don't want me to set off the alarm. Didn't you have a pad of paper in the truck?"
Adler grunted and ordered a guard a fetch it. Neal waited patiently. The pad of white ruled paper would work well for what he had in mind.
He might not have remembered the directions to the chalet but now that he was standing before the door, the details from their previous break-in returned in sharp focus. He could picture Klaus beside him, expounding on various techniques to prevent an alarm from sounding. Back then, Klaus had made him use six sheets of paper to cover the entire width of the door. That wasn't necessary this time since Neal already knew the location of the sensor.
With an easy smile at Kate, he demonstrated the trick. Adler appeared to enjoy their banter. He was probably already daydreaming about future scams he'd pull with him and Henry on board.
Once the paper was in place, Neal picked the lock. Holding the paper in place, he swung the door open. Instructing Kate to keep the paper in contact with the sensor, Neal set to work on opening the security console inside.
"A neat trick," Adler said. "You always were adept with paper. Do you still make origami?"
Neal nodded as he detached the final wire. "If you'd given me the use of my hands, I would have made a pirate's cutlass for this job." He stood back. "You can remove the paper now." He turned around to inspect the interior of the chalet.
Adler wasn't taking any chances. He ordered two guards to remain outside while the others stayed with him and Kate. Neal noted the telltale bulge of a gun in Adler's jacket and assumed Kate was still carrying hers. They were meant for each other. Neal hoped they'd enjoy being pen pals when they were in prison.
He returned his focus to the house. Somewhere within its rooms were hidden the directions He zoned out the others as he shifted into the persona of Anton Bergmann. It was no longer 2005 but May of 1942. He'd returned home after inspecting the art the Resistance fighters had stolen from the train. He'd made sure no one followed him. The secret was his alone.
The previous night he'd presented two of the paintings to his wife. Even though she thought they were copies, Nina had been overjoyed. Her slender fingers pulled him into an embrace and they'd celebrated with a night of passion which reignited his earlier feelings for her. He cast aside all thoughts of his Parisian mistress Isabelle. Last night there was only Nina in his heart.
Could he have both? Anton's career was on the rise. The Fuhrer himself had recognized his talent and promised him a top spot in the administration after the war. He might even be able to continue in Paris and maintain his mistress.
And if the Fuhrer should fail, Anton's future was still secure. He knew he wasn't alone in making contingency plans. Already ratlines were being discussed among his fellow officers. His priest in Paris had mentioned that Cardinal Maglione in Rome was paving the way for Catholics to emigrate to Argentina. Argentine sympathizers in Paris promised to expedite trips for any Germans wishing to go to the New World. A welcoming refuge in the worst-case scenario. For who could predict how the war would end?
Anton wouldn't tell Nina about the treasure now. She was an innocent. His little violinist. She might not understand what he'd done. With time she'd come to realize that he'd saved the art, not just for them, but for the world. After all, it was only fair that he should receive remuneration for his efforts.
The next few years were impossible to predict. If he had to leave quickly, he'd need to rely on Nina to recover the art. Under those dire circumstances, she'd understand that he'd kept it secret for her protection. She'd retrieve the paintings and then join him in Argentina.
Now, where to hide the instructions?
Neal scanned the living room, ignoring the guards who were watching every move he made. The furnishings hadn't changed much since his previous visit. The front door opened directly into a large living area. A massive stone fireplace with a storage area for logs dominated one wall. Dark taupe leather sectionals surrounded a rustic cocktail table. Polished hardwood floors. The Braque had hung on a side wall. Neal noted it had been replaced by a print. He took a moment to examine it. Ernst Kirchner—one of his mountain landscapes.
Possibly Anton had hidden directions in the wall behind the Braque, but it seemed unlikely. He would have had to patch the drywall without Nina's knowledge. Neal was convinced she never knew about the art. If she'd retrieved the paintings, surely word would have leaked out about at least one of them.
"Where do you think you're going?" Adler demanded as Neal headed for the dining room.
"We know Bergmann gave his wife one of the looted paintings. He may have given her more." Neal paused to grin impudently at him. "You really aren't very good at treasure hunts."
"But I am!" Kate exclaimed, her cheeks flushed. Treasure fever had her in its grasp. In her desire to find loot, she'd be less observant of his movements.
"Neal's right," she said. "We need to check the entire house. We have plenty of time. No one knows we're here. C'mon on, Vincent." She pushed past Neal to enter the dining room first.
The Matisse depicted a woman holding a violin. It would have conveyed a personal message to Nina. She might have wanted it in her bedroom or studio. Even though she'd passed away, conceivably her son could have kept it there for her. Perhaps he identified the painting with his mother.
Neal turned toward the exposed staircase which led upstairs. His shadow Boris was close on his heels. Neal climbed two steps and paused, sagging against the railing as a wave of lightheadedness took over. Damn. Not now. For a moment he wondered if he was living the con so much, his body experienced a sympathetic reaction. Whatever. He'd use it to his advantage.
Boris placed a hand on Neal's back to steady him. He was starting to like Boris. The guy was just trying to earn a living. Was there a little Boris at home? Neal shook off the weakness and continued upstairs.
Three rooms and a bathroom opened onto the hallway. One of the rooms, evidently the main bedroom, was much larger, and there she was. The Matisse.
Or not.
It was clear from the moment he spotted it that it was a copy. It wasn't bad, but no one with much of an eye would have been fooled. What had happened to the original? Did Anton give his wife a copy?
The painting was hanging next to the window. Neal strode over to examine it more closely. The canvas hadn't been aged long enough.
"Is that a Matisse?" Adler demanded. He and Kate were standing in the doorway.
"A copy of one." Neal hung the painting back on the wall. "And a modern one at that. Not worth our time." He turned back. "The hunt continues." He returned to the hallway with the others in tow.
The second bedroom was a nondescript guest room with modern furniture. Neal didn't waste much time there. He'd return for a more thorough search if nothing else turned up.
The third room looked more promising. It was now an office, but perhaps it had once been Nina's studio. There was a large window overlooking the hillside. Neal imagined her standing by the window as she played the violin. He paused at the doorway to survey the room, and there, perched in an alcove, was what he'd been seeking.
"Neal, what is it?" Kate demanded.
He didn't answer but sprinted for the recess in the wall. No one could touch it before him. Carefully, he picked up the two-foot-high bronze sculpture of a deconstructed violin and rotated it slowly in his hands.
Kate joined him. "You think the message is hidden inside?" she whispered.
He nodded. The sculpture evoked the Cubism in Braque's painting. The violin had been sliced into four sections. Each piece was set at an angle, providing gaps where a rolled-up piece of paper could be slipped inside. For a violinist with agile fingers, it wouldn't be much of a challenge to retrieve it.
Neal placed the violin on the desk and set the toolkit alongside it. He took one of the sheets of paper Vincent had given him and tore it into strips of different widths. Carefully he inserted two of them into the cavity. The strips wouldn't help extract messages but he was counting on them as a contingency measure.
He assumed there'd be a map inside. Probably also instructions or directions. The text would be in German. Neal didn't think that Adler was familiar with the language but Kate might have learned it or one of the guards could speak it.
If Adler acquired everything, he'd have no reason to keep Neal alive. All that talk of future partnerships was spun cotton candy with no substance. He'd cheated Neal before. He'd do it again.
Neal had brought to Paris a vial of liquid that could make text illegible. He'd lost the vial along with his other hidden tools when his abductors dumped his clothes. But he still had the Way of the Orchid. He hoped to replace the directions with one of his strips of paper and destroy the original before Vincent realized what he was doing. His lessons with Billy had heightened his skill. He was about to put them to the test.
Retrieving a pair of tweezers, Neal set to work on the delicate operation. He felt like a surgeon surrounded by his colleagues. Unlike the other sections, the base of the violin was solid, making it the most likely hiding spot.
Neal probed the cavity with tweezers. It only took a second to find something soft and pliable. With infinite care, he extracted a roll of paper secured in a scrap of black silk stocking.
He and Kate beamed at each other. Had this delicate piece of hosiery belonged to Nina or Isabelle? It was now his.
Adler approached to snatch it away, but Neal held it firmly in his fist. "Not so fast, partner. The paper's old, likely in poor condition. We're so close. Don't ruin it now."
Kate reinforced Neal's argument. She was acting on his side now. The key word was acting, but it was a skilled performance. Making him sit down, that fake concern about his health . . . she was playing into his hands.
Neal spread another sheet of paper on the desk and laid the packet on top. Using a pair of scissors, he gently sliced the stocking open. He could already see the map but there was also another piece of paper. Adler and Kate were both leaning over the desk to watch while Boris and the other guards stood in the doorway.
The six-inch-square map had been folded and rolled into a flattened cigarette shape. Once Neal spread it out, Vincent pounced on it, providing Neal the opportunity to study the second sheet of paper. The directions were in German. While Vincent's attention was on the map, Neal memorized every word. To keep them distracted, he asked, "Is that Besançon?"
"Yes," Kate confirmed. "Have you ever heard of Osselle?"
Neal gave a gasped exclamation, drawing their attention to his head and away from his hands which were compressing the directions into a tiny ball. One of the strips of paper he'd made served as a decoy. "Is that where it is? Of course!"
"What do you mean?" Adler demanded.
"Osselle is a famous network of caves. There are miles of them. If the Resistance had found a hidden gallery, it would make a perfect hiding spot. Are the caves marked on the map?"
"The map appears to be traced from a geologic survey," Kate said, frowning. "It's not clear where the caves are and the roads aren't labeled."
"There are likely several different routes that access the caverns," Neal said. He had no idea if that was true, but he wanted them focused on the map, not him.
Adler barked orders to one of the guards to retrieve a map from the Volvo. Taking advantage of their distraction, Neal slipped the wadded ball into his mouth. Bending low over the decoy paper as if studying it, he had more than enough time to swallow the directions before the jig was up.
"What's on the other sheet of paper?" Adler demanded, looking up.
"The precise directions." Neal continued to pretend to scan it. "In German, of course." He looked up. "You do speak German, don't you?"
Adler exhaled noisily and scanned the guards. "Hey! Any of you speak German?"
"I think Lukasz does," rumbled Boris. "He's keeping watch outside."
Adler held out his hand. "Neal, give me the paper now." A veiled threat was in his order.
"My pleasure." Neal handed him the decoy sheet.
He took one look and flushed red with anger. "What game are you trying to pull? This is blank!"
Neal shrugged. "Nothing personal, but you've screwed me in the past. Our partnership will work much better if we have a level playing field. You have Henry. I have the directions. Without them, you'll never find the art. Those caves are open to the public. No one's discovered the paintings up to now. Only I know how to find them." He crossed his arms.
"Search him!" Adler ordered.
"It won't do you any good. I've already swallowed them." Of course, Adler wouldn't take him at his word. Neal had to submit to having his mouth examined, but he knew that wouldn't suffice.
One strip search later, Adler was forced to accept reality. Neal didn't mind raising a cocky eyebrow at Kate during the search. She'd chosen Vincent over him? What was the girl thinking?
By now he had several guns leveled at him. "You think you bought yourself a pass?" Adler hissed. "Why should I believe there actually were directions?"
"You have the map," Neal said calmly. "You saw there was a second sheet of paper. It wasn't blank. Bring Henry here. I'll take everyone to the art."
"Unacceptable." Despite the glowers, Neal knew he was safe for the moment. Adler was even more consumed by treasure fever than Kate. He wouldn't kill Neal—not until Neal had led him to the cave.
Adler exhaled, apparently reining in his anger. "Once we arrive at the site, I'll allow you to talk with him. I'll even order his guards not to hurt him. You can hear it all. Acceptable?"
It would have to be. From the video feed he'd seen, Henry was likely in Albania at Adler's retreat. It would take too long to bring him here.
"And I know you'll understand, partner, why I'll need to drug you for the trip," Adler added.
Kate broke in. "Is that wise after what happened before? This time, Neal's reaction could be even more extreme. He may not be in any shape to lead us to the paintings."
"It won't be the same drug," Vincent said, dismissing her concern.
The first one had been designed to be a truth serum and hadn't worked. What would this one do? It was probably meant to be a knock-out drug. Would it also conjure a visit from Astrena?
"How many hours to Besançon?" Adler asked Boris.
"About six."
"We can't risk Neal being unconscious," Kate protested. "What if we're stopped at the border for inspection?"
"That's a risk we'll have to take," Vincent said grimly. "He's too good an escape artist. I haven't forgotten the reports you gave me of the heists you pulled together. I have no intention of riding in that truck the entire way, and I won't risk being tricked again."