Moe smacked my leg and I reluctantly opened my eyes to see the dashboard. Rainbow Kitten Surprise totally knocked me out.
“Look alive,” he said. “We’ve got a possible issue.”
“With?”
He made a sharp turn without braking and I scrambled for the door handle to keep from flinging into him. “Hey!”
“Look.”
I sat up as we sped into our hotel’s parking lot.
“Oh, no!”
The parking lot was filled with Polizei and an ambulance. I grabbed the door release, but it was automatically locked. “Let me out. Let me out.”
“Calm down. I’ll park.”
“Don’t park. Stop.” I looked at my phone. Grandma. It was Grandma that called. “Stop now.”
“You don’t know it’s her,” said Moe through gritted teeth.
“She called.”
He slammed on the brakes and threw the car into park. “Don’t—”
I was already out and running into the lobby. There were two Polizei behind the front desk and I startled the hell out of them by yelling in French, “Qu’est qui s’est passé?”
Why is it always French?
“Fraulein—”
I ran, bypassing the elevator and going straight for the stairs. Moe was behind me yelling, but I couldn’t stop. It was her. I knew it was her.
Up three flights and I burst through the stairwell door to find the hall filled with more Polizei and EMTs in their orange outfits bending over a person lying on the hall floor.
“Qu’est qui s’est passé?”
Dammit.
A Polizei moved to stop me, but I pushed past him to see Novak on the floor. I’m ashamed to say I felt a split second of relief to see my hacker there instead of my grandmother. Then I saw the blood and the relief vanished. The Polizei were talking to me, but it was just irritating noise. The EMT lifted Novak’s head off a bloody towel and placed a large pad underneath. Novak took the EMT’s hand and his eyes fluttered. I went for our room’s door, but the Polizei grabbed me. I struggled with him and a lot of radios erupted into frantic chatter. I was a problem.
“Mercy.” Grandma stood in the doorway with wet eyes and clasped hands. She opened her arms to me and I dashed around Novak’s feet to get to her. People were trying to stop me, but it made no difference. I got to her. I was always going to get to her.
“What are you doing?” Grandma asked as I ran my hands over her, looking for a wound, like I had in the alley with my mother. This time I found nothing, except for a shaking body and red eyes.
“You’re okay.” I threw my arms around her and we shook together.
“Hello,” said Novak. “Someone is wounded and it’s me.”
I looked down, wiping my eyes. “What happened?”
One of the Polizei got between us and gently asked Grandma who I was or at least that’s what it sounded like. I wasn’t paying much attention, too busy trying to see around him at Novak. His eyes were open and he responded to commands. He had on a cervical collar, wasn’t happy about it, and kept trying to take it off. I darted around the Polizei and said, “Stop that. Let them do their work.”
The EMT blew out a breath. “Yes, please. I must keep you still for transport to the hospital.”
“I’m not going to the hospital.” Novak’s voice was funny. He had a tremor in his hands and his eyes were darting around until they settled on me. “She’s a nurse. She’ll watch me.”
“You have to be assessed,” I said.
“No.”
The EMT looked at me and said in perfect, accentless English, “He has a head injury and he must go to the hospital for a scan.”
“No,” said Novak.
I squatted by his side and took his hand. “How’s he looking? Any slurring? How are the pupils?”
“He must go in,” said the EMT.
“No,” said Novak.
“How bad is it?” I asked.
The EMT was reluctant to tell me because he was right. Novak had taken a bad blow to the back of the head. He’d been knocked unconscious for at least a couple of minutes and had bled a tremendous amount. That was normal for a head wound, but he needed stitches. Something between eight and ten. Novak was staunchly saying no. He wasn’t going to the hospital and it was starting to sound a bit like a phobia.
“You can do it,” he said.
“I’d like to know where you think I’ve been keeping my CAT scan,” I said.
“You can do the stitches.”
“I’m not a suture tech. It would be ugly.” I should’ve known he wouldn’t care about that. The man was wearing a ski suit in orange and lime green with pink high-heeled cowboy boots. I was starting to think he was color blind. There were fashion choices, but that couldn’t be called fashion. I don’t care who you are.
“Fine. Do it,” he said. “I will not go to the hospital.”
Grandma bent over and said, “Yes, you will.”
“Janine, no.”
“I called your mother.”
He passed out. I’m not kidding. Out cold.
The EMT checked his vitals and said, “He must hate his mother.”
“Quick,” said Grandma. “Get him on a gurney.”
The Polizei and the EMTs sprang into action and got the groggy Novak on a gurney before he came to, strapped down and everything.
“What? What happened?” he asked.
“You passed out again,” I said. “You’re going to the hospital.”
He struggled against the straps. “No. No.”
“It’s fine. I’ll be with you the whole time.”
Moe stepped up and said, “No, you won’t. You and Janine will stay here. Neither of you are getting out of my sight again.”
“I can’t,” Novak cried out. “I can’t.”
He started to hyperventilate and I heard the EMTs start mentioning sedatives.
“No,” I said. “We can’t do this. This is worse than the head injury.”
“It is not.”
“He can choose, can’t he?” I asked.
The Polizei looked iffy on that, but there was a hotel manager standing by, wringing his hands. “Do you have a house doctor?”
He stepped up and said, “Yes, but he comes for the illnesses.”
“Call him, please.” I squeezed Novak’s hand. “A doctor’s alright?”
He shuddered and then nodded. The Polizei and the EMTs discussed and decided Novak would have to wave their responsibility for his medical situation and the in-house doctor was called.
The doctor, who was so old that he might just have served in WWII, showed up and as old doctors often do, he poo-pood the whole going to the hospital thing. I half expected him to say we could just rub some dirt on it as Grandad would’ve said.
He took off the collar, proclaimed Novak’s neck good enough, and then walked back into the room to inject some lidocaine and stitched his head. The Polizei left Grandma with him and insisted I leave for an interview.
“I don’t know what I can tell you,” I said. “I wasn’t here.”
“Where were you?” he asked.
“In Schönaich having eggnog with an American family.”
He eyeballed me pretty hard, but I wasn’t impressed. “Why were you there?”
“What has that got to do with Novak falling in the bathroom?”
“He didn’t fall,” said Moe. “Am I right?”
Novak didn’t fall. He was in our room, hanging out with Grandma and working. They were going to do pedicures. I thought that might sound weird to the Polizei, but he took that in stride. Novak had gone to the bathroom and was coming out when someone was at the door. There were a couple of tries at getting in and Novak thought it was me. Then the door flew open and he was face to face with a man in dark clothing and a brimmed hat pulled low. Novak yelled and the man shoved him. He flew backward and hit his head on the sink. Grandma had seen the whole thing and screamed so loud that half the floor heard her. The man turned tail and ran. Nobody knew where he went and the interviews didn’t have a better description than Grandma.
The doctor finished and came out with a prescription for some kind of liquid painkiller and was gone before I could ask any questions. The EMTs left right after, but the Polizei weren’t going anywhere. They just kept asking me questions. It was clear they knew I’d been interviewed in Sindelfingen, but they never referred to it. They just kept asking why I was in Schönaich, like I was up to something nefarious and I wished they’d just get to the point. I was about to say just that when Grandma appeared in the doorway behind my main interrogator and made a stretching motion with her hands. Then she closed the door and he looked back.
“What is going on in there?” he asked.
“I have no idea,” I said. “Pedicures maybe.”
“I saw all that equipment.”
One of Dad’s more useful lessons was don’t offer information if you don’t absolutely have to. No filling in blanks. Zippo. Say nothing. Sometimes I forgot, but I didn’t that time. I just looked at him.
“I could take the equipment,” he said finally.
“On what grounds?” Moe knew the lessons, having learned on the other side.
“He may be doing something illegal.” The Polizei eyeballed me again and I waited patiently and silently.
“We know you are investigating the Thooft situation,” he said.
Finally. Took you long enough.
“I am.”
“What do you have to say about that?”
“Nothing.”
“Why not?”
“Client confidentiality,” I said.
“Who is your client?”
I didn’t think that could hurt, so I said, “Thooft’s sister. She’s anxious to know what caused her brother to act so out of character.”
“Perhaps it wasn’t out of character,” he said.
“Perhaps.”
A muscle in his jaw twitched and I have to admit I enjoyed irritating him. He was irritating me.
“Do you have information for me?” I asked.
He drew back and puffed up in indignation. “We do not give information to Americans who have no business getting in the way of our investigation.”
“So you are investigating.”
He sputtered and Moe smiled. The Polizei tried to get invited back into our room, but it was a no-go. I don’t know what they were doing in there, but he wasn’t going to see it.
“Anything else?” I asked.
“When do you plan on leaving?”
I surprised him with, “As soon as possible.”
“Really?” he asked.
“Absolutely.”
I’m not sure he believed me, but he left with a warning about not getting into any more trouble as if I’d broken into my room and damaged Novak.
Whatever dude. Hit the bricks.
Once the Polizei were on the elevator, we went inside to find Novak at the desk, typing like mad with Grandma holding ice wrapped in a towel to the back of his head.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” I asked.
“Mercy!”
“Sorry, but seriously he has a head injury. Don’t make me regret getting him out of going to the hospital.”
“Almost there,” said Novak.
“Where?” Moe asked.
“Got it.” Novak snapped his fingers and then bent over. “I think I’m going to vomit.”
I grabbed a trash can, but he didn’t vomit. I got him on the bed, facedown so there wouldn’t be any pressure on his stitches and I took a look. The old guy did a swell job. Better than I could’ve done for sure.
“What is going on?” I asked. “Why did I have to keep talking to the cops?”
“Tell her, Janine,” muttered Novak.
Grandma went to one of the laptops and pushed a key. The screen filled up with six video feeds off the hotel security system. “We had to get it before the Polizei took it off the server.”
I sat down. “Sweet. What have we got?”
Grandma, showing expertise I didn’t know she had, got us through the parking lot camera all the way through to the elevator camera on our floor. A well-built man in dark clothing and a heavy high-collared black coat with a fedora pulled down low appeared in the parking lot, walking purposefully through the lot looking for something and when he didn’t find it, he headed to the front entrance. He didn’t have a car himself and came from the general direction of the main train station.
Once he was inside, the front desk camera showed him neatly avoiding the front desk clerks who were swamped with check-ins. On the elevator, he kept his head down and away from the corner camera and got off to march down to our door, where he pulled out a key card and swiped it without hesitation. The first time he did it too fast, showed some irritation, and then tried again. He went inside for about five seconds. Seriously, five seconds and then came running out. That time he went to the stairs that I’d come up. He ran down, skipping stairs, got himself together on the main floor, and then walked through the lobby, returning the way he came. The video ran through until it showed me running in, completely panicked.
“Can you back it up to the point where he’s at our door?” I asked.
Grandma backed it up. “What are you looking for?”
I touched the screen at the top of the guy’s head and then went to our door, opened it and stood in the same spot. “I’m five four. What’s he?”
Moe went back and forth between me and the screen. “Six foot. Six one.”
“Yeah,” said Novak. “He was about my height. Maybe a little shorter.”
“That fits,” I said.
“With what?”
I told them what we got from Ethan Elbert and had Grandma go back to the elevator video. It was the closest image we had. The unknown subject, as Dad would’ve called him, took great pains to hide his face. A little too great, bending his head so far that he revealed his neck between his scarf and hat. We got a decent view of the back of his neck and part of the side. It wasn’t much, but he was dark-haired, clean-shaven, and it was not the neck of an older man. By that, I mean, he was younger than forty for sure. No wrinkles. No thickening of the skin. It was young, firm, and healthy. Ethan may have considered that guy to be old, but I’d have guessed from his walk and style that he was about thirty.
“He’s our guy,” said Moe.
“I think so,” I said. “But…”
“Not a pro.”
Grandma looked hard at the elevator video frozen as he pushed the button for our floor with a gloved hand. “How in the world can you tell? He had a key card.”
“Easy,” said Novak. “Universal cards can be had on the web.”
“That’s not good,” she said.
“You have to know where to look and he did.”
I sat down next to Novak’s prone body. “But he didn’t know anything else. It couldn’t be The Klinefeld Group that sent him. He did this on his own.”
“How do you figure that?” Grandma asked.
“Because they don’t go in knowing half the information and unprepared.”
“But you think they killed Lester at the mansion.”
“Exactly,” said Moe. “They found someone in the house and they killed him. They didn’t have a problem with that. This dipstick freaked and ran away.”
“The Klinefeld Group would’ve surveilled the hotel,” said Novak, “since I blocked access to internal security and Wi-Fi. They’d have known that the Mercedes being gone was only an indicator. A pro would’ve known that Mercy and Moe left you here, Janine.”
Grandma’s voice got tight. “Maybe he was okay with that. Maybe he was going to hurt me.”
“No. He was shocked. I took him completely by surprise.”
“Did you get a look at his face?” I asked.
“Not really. You saw the video. It was seconds.”
“How about an impression?”
Novak took a breath and closed his eyes. “White, handsome.”
“Did you see his eyes?”
“Dark, but I don’t know the color,” he said before opening his own eyes again. “Sorry. It was so fast. I could never pick him out.”
“I didn’t think you could,” I said. “But the handsome is interesting.”
“Just a feeling. An instant impression.”
“Those are generally right.”
“Are they?” Grandma asked.
“Usually and then people talk themselves out of it.” I leaned back on the pillows and yawned.
Grandma went and got her purse. “Okay. Let’s go.”
“Where?” Moe asked.
“To the pharmacy. Novak needs his painkiller.”
“Don’t bother,” Novak said. “I’m out of here.”
“I don’t think so,” I said. “I’m watching you like a hawk for at least twenty-four hours.”
Novak got on all fours and then sat back beside me. “I appreciate that, but I have to go. The Polizei aren’t stupid. They’ll be back and they’ll have a warrant for my computers.”
“How?” Grandma asked.
He raised his palms. “Somehow. It will happen. I have to leave. Tomorrow morning at the latest.”
“I agree,” said Moe. “I’ve seen that look before. The cops are thinking. We can’t give them a chance to bully their way in.”
Crap on a cracker.
“Didn’t you give them your name?” I asked. “They can track you back to Paris.”
“I gave them a name and I’m not going back to Paris, not until you’re done,” said Novak.
“Why not, if the name is a cover?”
“My mother is there,” he said, crossing his arms.
“But we got rid of her,” I said.
Novak glared at Grandma, who defiantly glared right back.
I threw up my hands. “Oh, give me a break. She didn’t really call your mother.”
Grandma bit her lip.
“How in the world? I couldn’t call her. I don’t even know his real name.”
She put her nose in the air. “I haven’t been married to Ace Watts for fifty years for nothing. I saw him punch his code into his phone. When he was laid out with the medics, I called you, but you didn’t answer, so I did what any decent mother and grandmother would do. I called his mother.”
“I will never forgive you,” said Novak.
“Deal with it,” she said. “She knows and is waiting on me to call her with an update.”
“I changed my code, evil woman.”
Grandma rolled her eyes. “She gave me her number. Who do you think I am? I’m a mother, not some rank amateur.”
I’ve unleashed the Kraken and it’s Grandma.
“You still can’t leave,” I said. “Call her and tell her that. Or she can come get him.”
“I will harm you,” said Novak.
Grandma smacked his foot. “Go see your mother.”
“No.”
“She loves you.”
“That’s not the selling point you think it is,” he said.
“Well, you’re not leaving until tomorrow anyway,” I said.
Novak closed his eyes. “You can put me on a train immediately. There’s a direct to Gare de l’Est.”
“Not until the morning,” said Grandma. “You’re stuck, but I’m sure Mercy will think of something to keep the Polizei off our backs.”
Everyone looked at me and I asked, “Will I?”
“You must know someone,” said Moe.
I did know someone, sort of, but I wasn’t sure I wanted to call him or even if the number he gave me was still good. The name Sean Connery was still in my phone. I’d never even considered calling that number for help from the French spy Thyraud, and maybe I didn’t have to.
“What are you thinking?” Novak asked.
“I’m thinking we have a mutual friend with connections in government,” I said.
“Really?” Moe asked. “Who?”
“Sean Connery.”
“What on Earth are you talking about?” Grandma asked.
Novak smiled. “We do indeed. I should’ve thought of it myself.”
“I blame the concussion,” I said. “You’ll call?”
“If you help me back to my room.”
Grandma came over and offered her arm to help Novak up. “I will stay with you tonight.”
“You are not spending the night in a hotel room with some weirdo.” I glanced at Novak, “No offense.”
“None taken. It’s accurate.” He looked at Moe who held up his hands.
“I sleep alone,” said Moe.
“That’s a sad commentary on your life, my friend,” said Novak.
“Don’t I know it, but it’s still not happening.”
I stood up. “Fine. I will do it, if you promise not to work or game all night. I have got to sleep.”
Grandma shook her head and said, “You are not spending the night in a hotel room with some weirdo.” She glanced at Novak, “No offense.”
“Still none taken,” said Novak. “Aaron will do it. He doesn’t mind gaming.”
“Aaron!” I ran to the door and Novak yelled, “I’ve got his second keycard!”
I dashed back and grabbed the card.
I forgot Aaron! I forgot Aaron!
I ran down the hall and overshot Aaron’s door in my panic and doubled back to swipe the card without knocking. Probably not the best idea with anyone else, but it was Aaron and he wouldn’t care.
I ran in, gasping, to find my little pudgy partner asleep on the bed, fully clothed, I’m happy to say. I caught my breath and bent over the foot of the bed. I didn’t really think he’d been a target of anything, but who knows. Stuff happens. There were multiple sirens going for a long time, not to mention a bunch of people in the hall. How did he not notice that? He could’ve been dead or having a stroke for all I knew.
“Thank God,” I gasped.
One eye opened behind the glasses he still wore and Aaron said, “You hungry?”
“I need hot chocolate.”
He jumped up so fast he was a blur and went for the door in socks, leaving his key card on the desk.
“Hold on.” I grabbed his arm and gave him a hug. Aaron just stood there and let me do it. He didn’t hug back. I thought that he was probably thinking about chocolate and cream and marshmallows, but for once, he wasn’t.
“Is Janine okay?” he asked, and I hugged him harder. So hard he might’ve regretted the question.
“She’s upset. We all are.”
“Everyone?”
“Well, probably not Moe.” I told him what happened and Novak’s injury.
“I’ll stay with him,” he offered without hesitation.
“That’s perfect. Thanks.”
“We can play Warhammer.”
“Obviously,” I said. “Don’t forget your keycard.”
Aaron grabbed his card and was out the door in a flash. I don’t know where he was going, but he didn’t put on shoes, so it must’ve been in the hotel. On second thought, Aaron would never let a little thing like footwear get between him and making food. He could be going anywhere.
I went back to my room to find Novak on the phone with his distraught mom, who was threatening to come to Stuttgart to take care of her baby. That’s what Grandma said she said. It turns out Grandma could speak French.
“Do you know any other languages?” I asked.
“I took Latin.”
“Not so useful.”
“Well, I thought I was going to be a nurse and the nuns told me it would be good for understanding medical things.”
“You wanted to be a nurse?” I asked. “I didn’t know that. What happened?”
“I met your grandfather and I got married instead.” Grandma didn’t sound bitter, more like resigned.
“You couldn’t do both?” Moe asked to his credit.
“We were military and moved. I couldn’t stay in school long enough and then I got pregnant so that was that. I got a job with the phone company near post and that worked out well with all the moving. I have a nice little retirement, so it’s all right.”
I sat down next to her. “There are so many things I didn’t know.”
“That goes for all of us,” said Grandma. “But it’s not too late. I’m still here.”
“I have some ideas about things.”
Moe laughed and Grandma said, “You always did. That’s why you’re my favorite.”
My mouth fell open.
“Ask me anything, my dear,” said Grandma. “I will answer.”
I was about to do just that when my phone buzzed and Moe picked it up. “Spidermonkey.”
“Don’t answer it,” I said.
“We know how that works out.”
My questions would have to wait, but some answers were heading my way.