I bring my laptop into the kitchen and show them the bit about the killer in the Pianvia documentary. I tell them what happened at the cottage and how Bunny thinks the killer is our grandpa. Then I show them the text message: we got buny trade 4 musik w8 4 contact SPCA. We do a web search on Pianvia. Wikipedia says:
A tiny, insular Balkan state with a long cultural tradition of cross-dressing. Its economy is built on the export of its national drink, splotnik, a potent liqueur derived from fermented pork rinds.
Little is known for certain about contemporary conditions. A monarchy under King Hoj the 34th until the end of WWI, Pianvia was briefly a democracy until the Nazi invasion of WWII. It was the only state in the region not fully conquered by the Germans in that war, owing to a combination of its geography (impassable mountains and vast tracts of malarial swamp known as yill) and the fierce resistance of partisans led by Josef Josef, a former gym teacher.
Following WWII, Josef established the current People’s Paradise of Pianvia (PPP) under his own ironfisted and eccentric rule and closed the country off entirely. He is known to have banned unicycles, music, films, card tricks, ice cream, television, left-handedness and religions that do not proclaim him a god.
In consolidating his rule, he dealt ruthlessly with political opponents and other dissidents, killing many and forcing others into exile, where they were still not safe from PPP assassins. (See entry for Zoltan Blum.) In a rare appearance at the United Nations in 1959, Josef declared blotzing (killing slowly by chopping into small pieces) Pianvia’s new national sport, replacing fleever, a form of polo played by yak-riding warriors who used the skulls of enemies for a ball.
Nominally allied with the Russians during the Cold War, Josef was independent and unpredictable enough to also hold talks with the Americans, who are now known to have been interested in splotnik as a form of chemical weapon and who tried to negotiate a secret trade deal in the 1960s.
Josef Josef died in 1982 and was succeeded by his son, Josef Josef Josef, who is rumored to actually be Josef Josef ’s daughter, Greta, in disguise. (She has not been seen in public since 1976.) He (or she) has since banned digital technology and massage therapy. Since the fall of the Iron Curtain in the 1990s, opposition to the regime has increased, thanks to the SPCA (Save Pianvia Counterrevolutionary Army), an organization of Pianvian exiles and their descendents based mainly in Canada, the United States and Australia. The SPCA demanded recognition from the UN after a successful armed insurgency left them in control of the Flug Yill Basin in southern Pianvia. They have also enlisted numerous human-rights agencies in their cause, which has gained some popularity. Oprah is rumored to be negotiating a special about their fight, and several lowlevel Hollywood stars were spotted wearing purple-and-gold SPCA lapel pins at the Academy Awards in 2013.
“So this could be for real. They must have heard about your family from your prof. It’s a kidnapping. My god, we have to call the FBI or something.” AmberLea is wide-eyed.
“There is no FBI in Canada,” I say, “and if we phone somebody, what are we going to tell them? Besides, my mom said not to.”
“But all that spy stuff! That guy in the movie could be your grandpa. Your mom didn’t know about that.”
“Oh, come on. There was no Pianvian passport, and the disguise kit wouldn’t even be good enough for Halloween.”
“Sounds as if the gun and money would be more than good enough,” Toby says.
AmberLea jumps in. “What matters is, it looks as if this SPCA thinks it’s him. And if they’re for real, and they’ve snatched Bunny, we need to call the FBI.”
“There is no FBI in Canada. I just told you that. It would be—”
“So what’s this music they want to trade for?” Toby interrupts.
“No idea,” I say to him. “Music is banned in Pianvia.”
“That Zoltan Blum guy that got killed was a famous composer,” AmberLea says. “Do a search.”
The Wikipedia entry for Zoltan Blum doesn’t help.
(1909-1962) Foremost composer of the tiny Balkan nation of Pianvia. Trained in Vienna, Austria, where he returned following his defection in 1954, after his own country banned music. For much of his career, his work was heavily indebted to Schoenberg and other masters of atonal and serial composition. Too indebted, according to some critics, who made numerous charges of plagiarism, particularly over his “Variations on a Theme for Yak Bells.” Manuscripts from his years in exile have disappeared, but he is said to have turned to a simpler and more traditional melodic style, as well as taking up golf, which he described as “fleever on foot.”
He died on an Austrian golf course, killed by what was probably an exploding golf ball. Blum is thought to have been one of many victims of assassins working for the notorious Pianvian dictator Josef Josef.
The landline starts ringing. I see the message light is flashing too. The answering machine kicks in before I get to the phone. A canned version of Jerry’s voice says, “Hi, thanks for calling O’Toole Central. At the sound of the tone, leave a message for Deb, Jerry, Bunny or Spencer, and we’ll get back to you, Scout’s honor. And don’t forget to wonder what’s so crazy about peace, love and understanding.” BEEP. A voice leaves a message about dentist appointments next week. When it’s done, I press Play to see who else has called. A familiar voice kicks my eardrums. “Roz Inbow here. Bernard is thirty minutes late for his ten-AM check-in. He needs to call me immediately. I should advise you that there may be consequences.”
Oh, no. I look at the wall clock: 11:20. As I do, my cell plays the Bond theme—an incoming call. I don’t recognize the number. Maybe it’s Bun on a borrowed phone. I answer. A gravelly, accented voice says, “You want Bunny alive, ride 501 East streetcar at noon. Sit in single seat before back doors. Wait for contact from Dusan. Come alone. Or will die like Zoltan Blum.” The line goes dead.