Jack awoke to the sound of the toilet flushing. He looked at his watch. It was 5:45 a.m. When Giuseppe emerged from the bathroom, he got up.
“Good, you’re awake,” Giuseppe said in a hushed voice.
“I’m going to have a shower,” Jack whispered.
“When you’re done, wake the others. I’ll start making breakfast.”
Minutes later Jack adjusted the hot-water heater to high and turned on the shower, but stood outside the stall for a moment to let the water warm.
The window behind the toilet was open a crack, so he opened it further to look out. The snow from last night hadn’t amounted to much more than a light covering. He watched Giuseppe refilling the generators as he thought, The Ringmaster should arrive today. What will happen then? Will I be trusted?
Steam was billowing out from the shower stall as he stepped inside. He was just closing the shower curtain when he saw headlights through the window. Someone was arriving. Did Giuseppe decide to have his brother-in-law bring the dogs?
A moment later Jack was rinsing shampoo out of his hair when the shower curtain was ripped open.
“You bastard!” Carina screamed. Her face was contorted with rage.
Jack’s mouth gaped open as he took the scene in, or tried to. Giuseppe stood behind Carina and someone else was behind him. Then he saw the pistol in Carina’s hand. Watched her raise it, as if in slow motion, and point it at his face, then pull the trigger.
* * *
The phone woke Laura from a sound sleep.
“There is a problem,” said Paolo sombrely. “My surveillance team discovered that Yakov’s Jeep is gone.”
“Maybe he decided to get an early start.” Laura glanced at the alarm clock on her bedside table. Not quite six.
“A very early start,” Paolo replied. “It rained last night for about an hour, starting at two. The spot where the Jeep was parked is wet. He had to have left before then.”
“You’re telling me he travelled all day yesterday, didn’t book into the hotel until almost midnight, then took off within two hours?”
“Yes. It does not seem right.”
“No kidding it’s not right!” Laura couldn’t hide her fear. “What happened?”
“I don’t know.”
“Something must have happened.”
“I called my men in Bianco and they are watching for the Jeep, but I think it would be past there already.”
“I’m calling Interpol to get whatever we can on Yakov. In the meantime, call the others and we’ll meet in Maurice’s room.”
“Will do,” said Paolo.
Laura hung up, then gave a start when the alarm clock rang. When she set the alarm, she’d thought the clock was charming. It was silver with a large, circular face and had a small silver handle mounted on top. She didn’t view it as charming now. Has time run out for Jack? If not, how much time do I have to save him? Her hands fumbled in a failed attempt to shut off the alarm, and she didn’t succeed until she mashed the clock into her pillow. Then she reached for her phone.
Interpol in Ottawa listened to her urgent request for whatever details they could immediately get on Yakov Kadnikov.
“You work with Corporal Jack Taggart,” said the woman from Interpol.
“Yes. How did —”
“I’m Constable Jane Martin. I was on duty the night the French police officer tried to warn him.” Her voice trembled as she asked, “Is there anything you can tell me about how that is going? Have the French arrested anyone?”
“Not yet. The information I’m seeking is in regard to that. Jack is missing again and things aren’t looking good. Please get back to me as soon as you can.”
“It might take an hour or two,” Jane said. “I’ll do my best.”
At seven o’clock, Laura arrived at Maurice’s room at the same time as Paolo. Otto and Yves were already there, both grim-faced.
Maurice nervously scratched his moustache as he told how they’d gotten on the same elevator as Yakov and Carina when they left the hotel.
“You didn’t think to tell me about it?” said Laura angrily.
“They’ve never seen me before and Maurice kept his distance from Kerin the day he was killed,” Yves explained. “I don’t think the Russian leaving has anything to do with seeing us in the elevator.”
“Maybe they were leaving when you saw them,” Otto suggested.
“No, they weren’t wearing coats,” Yves said. “I saw them heading into the bar as we left.”
Laura looked at Paolo. “Do we know if Carina is still at the hotel?”
“No.”
“Have someone call her room and then if she answers, pretend to be a wrong number,” said Laura. “If she doesn’t answer, try again in a couple of minutes in case she’s in the shower.”
Paolo reached for his phone and said, “I’ll have someone check the restaurant, as well.”
Several minutes later Paolo was informed that Carina did not answer her phone and was not having breakfast.
Oh, man. “I should be getting a call back from Interpol shortly about whatever they can find on Yakov,” Laura said. “This may turn into a long day. I suggest we get something to eat. We may have a long drive ahead of us. Depending on what we find out, I think we should get to Sant’Agata del Bianco and find someplace to watch the road.”
“And what do you hope to see?” Yves asked.
“If the bad guys drive out of there without Jack, we’ll know he’s dead.” Laura’s tone was grave. “Otherwise, we need to sit there and wait until we hear from him.”
Yves and Maurice decided to remain in the room, while Laura, Otto, and Paolo went for breakfast at the hotel restaurant.
The coffee Laura drank only fuelled her already jittery nerves, and she could only eat one of the two pastries she’d ordered. Barely a word was spoken amongst the three of them until eight o’clock, when Laura received a call from Jane in Ottawa saying she had some information about Yakov.
“Give me a minute to get to a better location,” Laura said. Glancing at Otto and Paolo, she whispered, “Interpol. I’m going back to my room.”
“We’ll pay the bill and meet you in Maurice’s room,” Otto said.
As soon as Laura was back in her room she dug out her notebook and recorded what Jane told her, which was basically that Yakov was known to the police as a gangster and reputed to deal in stolen property and guns. He wasn’t considered high enough in the criminal empire for the police to have made him a priority.
“Maybe if they’d worked on him, they’d discover otherwise,” said Laura cynically. “Anyway, thanks, I better —”
“Hold on. The report you requested from the police in Zurich concerning Carina Safstrom and her husband, Denzler Bussmann, just came in.”
“Yes, they were going to check with Germany. Bussmann died in a car accident there.”
“Apparently it wasn’t an accident,” Jane said. “They believe it was suicide. No skid marks on the road and a good impression of the gas pedal on his shoe when he hit a bridge abutment.”
“Well, that’s too bad, but —”
“Hang on, I’m still reading. The report contains information from the Swedish police, as well.”
“Carina Safstrom said she lived with her aunt and uncle in Stockholm for several years. I put in a request that they check their records, too.”
“Let me give you the gist of this,” Jane said. “Bussmann had fallen for some type of Ponzi scheme where he invested all his money and lost it in the scam. The guy who ripped Bussmann off took at least fifty-five other people for their life savings. He was a Swede. His name was Noah Akerman.”
“Was?”
“He was murdered in Sweden a year later,” Jane went on. “They had a suspect, but he was a well-known gangster who died of cancer shortly after.” Jane’s voice rose in pitch. “Guess who the gangster was!”
“I don’t —”
“Carina’s uncle! He ran a criminal network that spanned most of Europe.”
Laura felt like her brain had been put on spin dry. Carina took over the family business.
“There’s more,” Jane said. “The Swedish police pulled a newspaper clip on Bussmann’s funeral in Stockholm to try and identify people who attended. A newspaper photograph confirmed that the aunt and uncle were there for it.”
“It was in the newspaper?”
“Yes, it looks like Bussmann was a popular person in the community. He belonged to something called Clowns Without Borders and performed at many hospitals, schools, and retirement homes.”
Seconds later Laura was on her way out the door.
* * *
While waiting in Maurice’s room for Laura to return, Otto, Maurice, and Yves speculated on whether or not Yakov was the Ringmaster.
“Black, collar-length hair, stocky, hairy hands,” Otto said. “That was all?” He looked at Maurice. “Nothing else?”
“No. I have a copy of the witness report in my briefcase and will read it to you.” He pulled out a document. “It’s in French, but I will translate.”
Otto glanced at the report and saw that it was a copy of a handwritten statement written in French and signed at the bottom. He did not read French, but there was something he did see. “The name at the bottom of the report,” he said, pointing to it. “Maria Popescu, with what looks like a date of birth and passport number underneath it.”
“Yes, that is the witness who saw the killer run away,” replied Maurice.
“Maria Popescu is Romanian,” said Otto.
“Yes, so was her passport.”
“Do you have a list of the five Romanian passports that were stolen?” asked Otto. “The ones Jack found hidden with the drugs and the painting?”
Maurice’s eyes revealed his concern, then he tore through his briefcase and pulled out a file and compared the numbers of the stolen passports in Jack’s report to the passport number of the witness. He looked dumbfounded. “Maria Popescu was using one of the stolen passports.” He stared at Yves. “I remember seeing the witness in a patrol car being interviewed. She had long black hair, thick plastic glasses.”
“A disguise that included a wig,” Otto said. “I’m going to get Laura.”
* * *
Laura was about to knock on Maurice’s door when Otto opened it in front of her.
“Carina is the Ringmaster!” she blurted.
“I know,” Otto replied.
Laura stared at Otto. At the moment she didn’t care how Otto knew. Her thoughts were on what a psychopathic killer would do after being romantically betrayed.