A Roman Holiday
Chapter 5
"But Nodame, how can you see anything in here?… It's pretty dark."
"What kind of place do you think this is? Doesn't look like anyone's been here for a very long time."
"I'm not sure… it looked like some kind of storage cellar to me. Wine perhaps."
"So there should be a light switch some where around here…"
"Possibly…"
Nodame was groping slowly along the walls, feeling it inch by inch. The idea that there would be some kind of secret entrance to some secret tunnel did capture her imagination.
She was quite determined to see the notion through.
"Ah ha…" She flicked what appeared to be a switch and the light came on, replacing the darkness around them. "Much better."
"So what do we do now?"
"I don't know… we should probably go through the room, brick by brick… see what turns up."
"Has anyone ever told you that you're crazy?"
"Everyone did… quite regularly too. Senpai was the worst… although…" Nodame after giving it some thought continued by saying, "He hasn't said it for a while. "
Chiaki's cell phone purred softly amidst the hustle and bustle of embassy goings on. He'd forgotten he had it with him. He picked it up and took the call. A familiar and oddly comforting voice came through excitedly.
"Shinichi, it's mum here."
"Mum?"
"I'm sorry to call so late. I did try your hotel and they told me that you weren't in your room."
"I'm here at the Maltovian embassy." Chiaki was trying to keep his voice steady. Why is she calling?
"My contact at the Japanese embassy called me just a couple of hours ago. She told me what happened. Is there anything I can do?"
"No, there's nothing… It's all up to the Maltovians now to make the exchange."
"I can fly out there on the next available flight."
"It's alright mum… it isn't necessary… I'm fine…"
"I doubt it…" She paused before saying, "Shinichi, if you need me… just call me, okay?"
"I'll be fine."
"Just call me…" She insisted before hanging up.
Chiaki knew that he couldn't pull wool over his mother's eyes. She was after all his mother, the person who had a lifetime of knowledge about him. Who was he trying to fool… inside he was a wreck of a man. He was faced with the choice of returning to his hotel room or staying put where he was. The reality was, there was little he could do anyway. He felt completely and utterly useless. There was nothing he could do… except watch others work. But he became increasingly frustrated at watching others work. In the end, he thought it would be better if he just went back to his hotel to get some sleep. After all, he still had an orchestra to conduct on the Saturday evening.
Caught up in the frenzy of the entire affair, Chiaki had momentarily forgotten about the orchestra -- the whole reason for his coming to Rome in the first place. Now he'd rather not think about it. But whatever else he was feeling, Chiaki was a consummate professional. Something in him told him he had to get on with it and he knew that she would want him to. Shaking off his gnawing pessimism, he reminded himself that there was a good chance that she would still come out of the situation relatively unscathed.
Bethstein, on the other hand, was busy following up another line of investigation. He did relish the chance to exercise his detective legs which had been lying dormant for over two years. One of the benefits of being an ex-cop, was the fact that he had made the acquaintance of a motley of very talented individuals who often worked within the realms of dubious legality. In light of what was happening, he was desperate and was less inclined to worry about legal niceties. If his surmises were right, there was a hidden dimension to the entire affair.
"Bonjour, Jean-Pierre."
"Bonjour, Albert… How have you been?"
"Jean-Pierre, I'm not in any mood to chat but I need a favour from you."
"That's not surprising, it's the only time you call me."
"This is serious, Jean-Pierre…"
"It always is with you. What do you want?"
"I'm going to email you a list of names. Can you run down their financial records?"
"This is serious… and it will probably cost you…"
"I don't care… I need to know if any of these individuals have come into some money lately. Or any other irregularities with their financial transactions."
"Who are these people? Anyone I should be afraid of?"
"They could be involved in a kidnapping of a princess."
"Mon dieu… "
"I found something…" Nodame whispered excitedly, her hands sifting through the dirt and dust of the floor.
"What is it?"
"It's only a gold coin." Her excitement turned into disappointment. "Not much use for us in here."
"What's a gold coin doing here? Let me have a look." The princess took the coin and examined it closely. "I have seen this before." She added rubbing the coin vigorously to remove the grime and other blemishes that had buried it over the years.
"You have?" Nodame exclaimed incredulously.
"It's an old Maltovian coin, issued before World War 2. I've seen it in our museum and textbooks."
"What is an old Maltovian coin doing in this place?"
"Nodame, can we see if we can try finding anymore of these?"
The two young women having no regard for the finery that they were wearing, went on their hands and knees, like a bunch of marauding buccaneers in search of their booty.
"There's another one here…"
In the privacy of his hotel room, Chiaki's weary body gave way and he tumbled straight into his bed. There was refuge to be found in silence and darkness when no one could see or hear the anguish of his heart. He felt guilty about leaving things to the Maltovian and Italian authorities but a quiet voice inside reminded him that he was not in any position to do anything… He was neither a police officer nor a soldier. Just a musician passing through. Just a musician. There was something that sounded hollow about that.
He rolled over and stared at the clock on his bedside table. It said 2:15. He knew he was overwrought and needed to be refreshed for another grueling day with the orchestra. Shinichi was no stranger to hard work but sleep deprivation and low morale would work against his ability to deliver his utmost.
Tired as he was, his brain refused to shut down. He thought about many things but mostly about her. He thought about their marriage plans… plans to travel… to return to Japan… All were meaningless… pipe dreams without the woman at the centre of it all. Being in Rome, conducting the Santa Cecilia Academy Orchestra was suppose to be a high point of his career but he found cold comfort in that. All he could think about in his fatigued condition, was whether he would see her again.
He got up an hour later and fumbled in his jacket pocket for the key to her room. He opened the door and half expected to see her in there sleeping. But there was no Nodame to greet him or to embrace or to say good night to.
He sat on her bed and then fell to its lure, allowing the smell of lavender and violets to transport him to happier times. The soft, turquoise dress she wore that night was still lying on the bed and he pulled it out from under him and held it against his chest until he finally drifted off to sleep.
Between the two young women, they found themselves several Maltovian and other European coins issued before the second world war that were scattered around the room. The light that they relied on was not particularly conducive to the search but by sifting through layers of dirt and dust, they managed to find what they were looking for.
What were they looking for? Nodame wanted to know. How would these coins help them? As far as she could see, they were souvenirs from the past, forgotten by the passage of time. Nodame reconsidered her original question… why would a piece of Maltovian currency be lingering in a cellar in goodness-knows-where in Rome? Maltovia was a small nation thus the chances of its currency being found in the exact same place as where the princess is taken hostage seemed suspiciously coincidental.
Both the two women remained deep in thought as they held the tokens and pondered their significance.
"Nodame, I think we should turn the light off…" The princess sounded urgent and looked serious.
"What is it, your highness?"
"Turn off the light and I'll tell you…"
Nodame went over to the light switch and flicked it off.
"Do you know what this place is?" Nodame quizzed.
"I don't know if I believe it myself… but I think we're in one of the underground wine cellars of the Maltovian embassy." The princess voice fell to a whisper.
"Gyabo!… Are you sure?"
"I can't be completely sure but I remember my father telling me that during the war, our family would hide persecuted Jews in the wine cellar from Mussolini's regime and help them escape through the underground tunnels which were formerly part of the ancient Roman aqueduct system. Some, who chose to do so, went on to Maltovia. This is probably where they hid before escaping."
"So you're saying that we could be right under the Maltovian embassy?"
"I suppose it is what I am saying." The princess acknowledged hesitantly.
"Wow… so I was right… there is a secret passage somewhere around here." Nodame sounded excited.
"I'm not so sure about that… I can't be sure if it is in this room or somewhere else in this building."
"I know how we can make sure."
Prince Maximillian seemed revived by his brief exchange with the princess. He regained his composure but remained in the drawing room and insisted that he be updated as soon as any new developments occurred. His cousin, Count Boris, could not convince to take to his own bed.
"I'll stay here just in case anything else turns up."
"You're no good to anyone, if you're worn out and become ill."
"I can sleep here just as well as in bed." The prince insisted. "Remember, how I used to fall asleep on the palace stairs after a heavy night's drinking."
"You were such a carouser then…" Count Boris grinned nostalgically
"Nowhere near what you were capable of. Anyway, I was 18. I was a boy scout compared to you." The prince managed a laugh.
"Yes, I was the king of drunken revelry."
"I miss her… Boris…"
"Who? Marina, you mean?"
"Not Marina… Clarisse… She always knew what to do and say… When she died, things weren't the same."
"No… they weren't… were they?" The Count assented. "Are you really certain about giving up the Fire of Maltovia without a fight? It's your last link to Clarisse. It looked better on her than anyone else."
"There's no choice, Boris… it's my daughter's life we're talking about. Clarisse would agree with me."
While Bethstein was waiting impatiently for his French contact to get back to him, he studied the ransom note more carefully, hoping that it would yield more answers than he currently had. It stated that the drop off area was at the Teatro dell'Opera di Roma and that Prince Maximillian was to come alone to the main auditorium with the Fire of Maltovia at 3 pm on Friday. He was to be seated in the first row where he was assured that all would be revealed.
All would be revealed? What's that suppose to mean?
Bethstein was puzzled… it was not something that was typically said in a ransom note. Was the kidnapper going to reveal himself?
According to the Carabinieri, the email came from a dummy account traced to Switzerland that was set up over a year ago. Other than that, they couldn't tell him much. Albert Bethstein was frustrated... a nagging feeling continued to tell him that there was more than met the eye.
Nodame pounded on the door and demanded to be given a pack of cigarettes.
"It's my last request!" She yelled.
"I didn't know you smoked." The princess said to her.
"I don't." was the offhand reply.
Their guard outside opened the door and threw in a cigarette and a lighter. "Don't set yourselves on fire, ladies." He gave them a smirk and immediately closed the door behind him.
Nodame lit the cigarette and put it to her lips. She coughed and spluttered while her face turned a darkish green.
"Are you alright?" The princess looked at her worriedly.
Still barely able to breathe , Nodame nodded and then wheezed. "I can see why they say that smoking is bad for your health. I'm glad senpai gave it up."
"What are you up to?"
"I saw this on a tv show years ago… I'm going to try and use the smoke from the cigarette to find a hidden passage way, if there is one… We will need to have the light back on in the room again."
With the cigarette in hand, Nodame made her way slowly around the room… covering every section of each wall and watching the movement of the smoke
"I hope I have enough cigarettes." She remarked tentatively as she lit her third.
"Here, let me help…" The princess offered and held her hand out to show that she was in earnest.
"So what did you find, Jean-Pierre?"
"What is it worth to you?"
"Jean-Pierre… I'm sure the Surete would like to find out who was the mastermind behind that Marseilles hacking job…"
"Okay… okay… I'm just joking… No need to get uptight…"
"Let me ask you again… what did you find?" Bethstein demanded impatiently.
"Well, two things stand out… one of your suspects has been busy accumulating money and the other has been busy spending it.
"In the past year… especially the last six months, a Mr Gunther Weiler has had large amounts of money paid into various accounts under his name in the Cayman Islands, The Solomons, New York, Paris. He made several small transactions to various individuals and organizations and a couple of fairly large ones to Messrs Isaac Rubin and Len Barducci.
"And the big spender… who is he? What's he been up to?"
"Your big spender has been making large transactions to various Swiss accounts and has racked up huge medical bills in Switzerland to the amount of several hundred thousand dollars in the past six months. I can give you the names of the doctors and hospitals, if you're interested."
"So who is this big spender?"
"This is hopeless," Nodame sprawled onto the floor in sheer exhaustion. "It's not here." She was, unsurprisingly, dismayed. They had been at it for what felt like hours and came up empty. It was tiring work and the lack of sleep was beginning to have an effect.
"I can't believe people actually enjoy smoking."
"Nodame…" The princess' eyes grew large as saucers as she pointed to where the smoke from the cigarette between Nodame's fingers was wafting to.
Nodame regained her ebullience as she kept careful watch at the direction in which the smoke was traveling. It was headed towards the floor. Nodame slapped herself on the forehead…
"Ack… gyabo… I must be dumb… Don't know why I didn't think about the floor."
"I can't believe it… it's actually here…" The princess was still astounded by their discovery.
"Well, let's get to it."
"How?"
"A good question. Do you know if it was suppose to be a door or just a loose slab?"
"I have no idea. "
"We won't know until we try."
"So he's been going to Switzerland for treatments?"
"According to these confidential records... yes."
"Hmmm… what is the prognosis?"
"He's not expected to survive the winter."
"Good job, Jean-Pierre… I'm glad we had this conversation. I owe you."
"There's still that matter of the Marseilles job."
"What Marseilles job? I don't know about any Marseilles job." Bethstein muttered innocently and rang off.
"Cops… can't trust them." grumbled the voice on the other side of the line before hanging up.
Bethstein chewed for a long time over his long-distance conversation. It had been illuminating to say the least as it confirmed many things in his mind that he had suspected. Still, he knew he couldn't prove anything as much of his information had been illegally gained and much of it speculation. He knew he would have to bide his time and follow through with the exchange and see where it led. That part troubled him… not knowing where all this led to. Two or even more lives were at stake… lives that he cared about. He thought about Chiaki and felt great empathy for him. All this sitting around and waiting is driving him nearly insane. At least in his case, there were things he could do. Remembering how Chiaki looked when he left him, he felt a little guilty for dragging him over to the embassy, only to abandon him later. It was then Bethstein decided to go look for him.
As he did his rounds around the embassy, he found out from his subordinates that Chiaki had ordered a taxi and returned to his hotel. I'm glad he's taken the initiative. It's probably better this way. Poor man… hope he gets some sleep. He's going to need it to survive the next two days.
He had a few hours left to catch some shuteye. He noticed that the prince was sleeping fitfully on the sofa in the drawing room and took up a spot on an arm chair next to him. He took his pistol out of its holster and tucked it in the side of the sofa. It was an old habit but for the first time in a very long time, he actually felt a strong need for it.
The two women were struggling to find a way to access the secret door. To come as far as they had and not be able to open it was a matter of utmost frustration. They valiantly attempted to pry it with their fingers and then searched around the room for some secret lever or switch but to no avail.
"I'm exhausted."
"It has to be here… Let's try pushing it instead… applying pressure all around the stone slab and find the vital spot."
Using their hands, they took turns in putting weight on different areas when suddenly, the stone dipped downwards at an angle, opening temporarily to a dark empty hole before swinging back into position. Nodame almost fell in except for the quick reflexes of the princess in grabbing her arm.
"We found it!" Nodame acknowledge gleefully and allowed herself the luxury of a lie down before bouncing up and readying herself for action. "Let's go now."
"Now?" The princess was sitting prostrated.
"What's wrong?"
"I'm done for…" As if to prove her point, she gave a loud yawn.
Nodame felt a pang of guilt. In her eagerness to move ahead, she had forgotten about how tired the princess was. Her tendency toward obsessiveness was rearing its ugly head again.
"We're both tired." Nodame conceded and observed that she was bone-weary herself and realized that it was pointless to make their break when they were both in that particular state. "Why don't we get some sleep… and make our escape in the morning? After breakfast." She added the second part with emphasis.
"Good idea…" The princess mumbled sleepily and went off to sleep as her head touched the hard floor.
Nodame pulled a blanket over herself. Murmuring softly, she made a vow to the witness of silence.
"Tomorrow, we break out of this prison. I'll come home to you, senpai, I promise."
Author's Note:
I am experiencing a few family dramas at the moment so the updates are going to come very slowly but I'm committed to finishing the story.
I'm grateful to my husband for pointing me to the idea of a swinging trapdoor used in Biggles in the Jungle. Without his help, I'd still be wondering what to do with this story.