The narrow, winding streets of Altstadt (Old Town) Zurich were unnerving at night. Residents consider the Renaissance-era district charming. Jay thought the neighborhood was creepy, with many shadowy alleyways and doorways for attackers to hide in. But Antonio promised Jay a night out on the town, and Jay had to go along.
He walked into the Aelpli, a small bar known for its lively music and alcohol-laced alpine milk. A large mural of a Swiss mountainscape adorned the back wall of the cramped room. Cigarette smoke mixed with loud accordion music created a raucous but friendly atmosphere. Jay spotted Antonio, dressed in an expensive Italian suit sitting with a slim, young, attractive woman. She had short blond hair and wore trendy, oversized Italian eyewear, a semi-sheer black blouse, and tight-fitting jeans. Antonio laughed as she attempted to down a shot of the potent Aelpli milk.
“Would you like a drink?” A waitress dressed as a traditional Swiss maiden asked in English. He wondered how she knew he was American, then realized he was still wearing his Boston Red Sox hat.
“Pellegrino, please,” Jay said, pointing to the corner booth. “Could you deliver it to that table?”
Antonio Borracci was a fascinating intelligence officer. Most spies keep a low profile so they can blend in while practicing their spycraft. Antonio was known as Switzerland’s best downhill skier and snowboarder. He was the first Swiss athlete to win gold in both downhill sports. Antonio had multiple sponsorship deals from Ferrari, O’Reilly Snowboards, and Luxottica Eyewear and even hosted his own sports podcast. Antonio had a habit of both coaching and dating upcoming female skiers and snowboarders. And thanks to three high-profile divorces, he managed to keep himself in the tabloids.
But Jay knew Antonio had a darker side. They met in Iraq during Operation Enduring Freedom. Antonio helped rescue a young family kidnapped by Al Qaeda fighters. Then led a mission to track down the roadside bomber who almost killed General Andrews. The police never found the bomber. Antonio was also a master of disguises who loved to mingle with the rich and famous. And he put his skills to good use by trolling the seedy financial world that funded terrorism. Most important, he knew how to have a good time.
Jay squeezed through the crowded bar and slid into the booth next to Antonio without saying a word. Antonio was so engaged in conversation. He didn’t notice Jay sit down. The woman smiled as she listened.
“I was climbing Hillary’s steppe on the south face of Everest when the storm blew in. I held on to my rope for three hours as Sherpas attempted to rescue me.”
“You’re so full of shit,” Jay said. “You’ve never been close to Everest.”
Antonio turned to see Jay sitting next to him. “When did you arrive?”
“Long enough to hear three of your bullshit stories,” Jay said with a smile. “How are you, Antonio?”
Antonio laughed. “It’s great to see you. You look great, considering what you’ve been through.”
The woman stared at Jay. “Are you going to introduce me to your handsome friend?”
“Of course,” Antonio said. “I’m so rude. I’m pleased to introduce Jay Mendes. His friends and most of his enemies call him Chief. Jay, this beautiful and brilliant woman is Silvie Bruehner.”
“Nice to meet you,” Jay said as he extended his hand to Silvie.
“No, the pleasure is mine,” Silvie said as she accepted his handshake.
Jay’s eyes locked with Silvie’s for the first time. Her cobalt blue eyes were stunning. She stared back for several moments, then broke her gaze.
“How was your trip to Zurich?” Antonio said. “I hope your plane didn’t incur a lot of turbulence. I’m surprised you traveled so soon after your surgery?”
“Surgery?” Silvie said. “I hope it wasn’t serious?”
“No,” Jay said. “It was a minor procedure.”
Antonio choked on a glass of Aelpli milk.
“You know,” Silvie said. “Your face does look familiar. I saw you on GNN. Didn’t you shoot a priest in Boston?”
Now it was Jay’s turn to choke on his drink.
“A case of mistaken identity,” Antonio said. “Let’s take a walk. My friend and I need some fresh air.”
“All right,” Silvie said. “I’ll meet you outside. I need to freshen up.”
Jay and Antonio worked their way out of the bar and out the front door onto Ankengasse Strasse. Antonio lit up a cigarette and offered one to Jay.
“Antonio, you know I don’t smoke. When did you start?”
“I only smoke when I’m out drinking with beautiful women.”
“So that’s every day?”
Antonio laughed. “Not anymore. I’m a happily married man. Soon, I’m going to be a father.”
“Congratulations,” Jay said. “That’s great news.”
Jay spotted Silvie step out of the Aelpli and look around. He waved at Silvie, and she joined them. She wore a stylish black leather coat and carried a small Prada purse.
“Come, let’s go down by the river,” Silvie said. “The view of the city at night is spectacular.”
They walked down the narrow street and crossed onto a wide promenade next to the Linmat river. Across the river, the buildings of downtown Zurich reflected off the calm water.
Silvie grabbed Jay’s right arm and Antonio’s left arm and proceeded to walk towards Lake Zurich.
“You never answered my question, Mr. Mendes,” Silvie said. “What brings you to Zurich?”
“I’m looking for information. The sensitive kind.”
“I see. What type of information?”
Jay hesitated. Antonio insisted he could trust Silvie. But asking the question can get him arrested in Zurich.
“I need to know the owner of a Swiss bank account.”
“You know that information is secret,” Silvie said. “We have a national privacy law that protects bank account owners.”
“I understand. But the account owner might be linked to the Papal bombings in New York and Boston.”
“Any chance they were involved with the bombing in St. Peter’s square?”
“There could be, but we haven’t been able to connect them yet.”
“I may be able to help you. But not tonight. I need to make a few phone calls. Where are you staying?”
“I’m at the Swissôtel on Schulstrasse.”
“I’ll pick you up tomorrow morning at six. Wear active gear. I’m going to show you how the Swiss workout. My car is parked on the next block.”
They stopped at a dark blue Audi SUV with a government license plate. Silvie gave both Jay and Antonio a quick kiss on the cheek then got in the car.
As she drove away, Jay and Antonio continued walking towards the lake.
“What did you say Silvie does for work?”
“She’s a criminal investigator for the Swiss Federal Police.”
“And I asked her to break Swiss privacy laws?”
“Silvie doesn’t work for the Finance Ministry. She’s in the major crimes division.”
“So why would she break the law to help me?”
“You’ll find out. She has her reasons.”
Silvie pulled up in front of the hotel at six o’clock sharp. Jay threw his duffle bag into the back seat of the SUV then climbed into the passenger side.
“Good morning,” Silvie said. “I brought some hot coffee and croissants.”
Jay smiled as he sipped from the strong coffee. The croissant was filled with melted Swiss chocolate.
“Man, this is delicious,” Jay said. “It melts in your mouth.”
“My mother bakes them fresh every morning. I stopped by my parent’s house to pick them up.”
“Where do they live?”
“Not far from here. My father’s a surgeon at the University Hospital. I have my own flat a few blocks away.”
“I’m curious,” Jay said. “Why are you helping me?”
“I have my reasons.”
“That’s what Antonio said. Would you like to share?”
Silvie hesitated. Jay thought he noticed tears welling up in her eyes. “I will. Soon enough. Let’s get to our destination before the traffic gets too heavy.”
Silvie sped down the I-14 motorway at close to one hundred miles per hour. They passed by beautiful Lake Lucerne and climbed into the Alps. When they reached Interlaken, they turned up into the mountains. After going through several fear-inducing switchbacks, Silvie pulled into a gravel parking lot. They sat at the base of the famous Swiss mountain known as the Eiger.
Jay cringed as he looked up at the thirteen-thousand-foot-high mountain.
“We aren’t going straight up, are we?”
“No, that’s the north wall. It’s known around here as the Mordwand. In English, you would say the murderous wall. It’s for serious climbers. Over the years, sixty-four climbers died up there.”
“Are you a serious climber?”
“No. I’ve attempted the climb once. I made it halfway up before the weather turned. We had to come back down. Come on. We’re going to a spot where we’ll get a better view.”
She handed Jay a backpack and a pair of walking sticks. “The bags contain snacks and extra clothes. Okay, let’s go.”
They jogged up a winding path through the alpine meadows and up into the mountains. Several times they stopped to let other runners pass.
“Do they always run up this mountain?” Jay asked at one of their breaks.
“They’re training for the Eiger Ultra Trail. It’s a 101-kilometer cross-country race that crosses over the top of the mountain.”
“Do you run that race?”
“No, I don’t have time to train for that. I did compete in the Panorama and Couples trail events. It’s quite fun.”
Jay pressed through the pain and exhaustion to keep up with Silvie. He wasn’t going to let her see him struggle.
Silvie stopped when they reached a large meadow with beautiful alpine ponds. She pulled a blanket from her backpack and placed it on the grass. The view of the surrounding mountains was breathtaking.
“This is a good place for us to talk,” Silvie said as she handed Jay an energy bar.
“What do you mean?”
“There’s no cell phone service in this spot, and I’m sure we weren’t followed.”
“Why all the cloak and dagger stuff?”
“I want to make sure we can speak without fear of my employer monitoring our conversation. The Swiss government is very serious about protecting its secrecy laws. They’ll go to extreme lengths to ensure their client’s identities remain secret.”
“Why are you concerned?”
“It’s why you are here, right? You told me you need the name of the account holder. I want to help you. Let’s say we have a mutual interest.”
“What do you mean?”
Silvie didn’t respond right away. She gazed out at the mountains in silence for several moments.
“This is the spot where I met Hermann Koenigg,” Silvie said. “We were on a social trip. I didn’t want to go, but one of my co-workers insisted. He was a handsome man. Very athletic. He was a competitive triathlete and soldier.”
“Where did he serve?”
“Swiss Army in special operations. He was a member of the Swiss Guard. One of the Pope’s personal bodyguards.”
“Impressive. I’ve heard the Guard’s training is second to none.”
“Yes. Hermann was very proud of his accomplishments. Only one hundred Swiss soldiers are selected for the honor.”
“Silvie, you said he was a Swiss Guard.”
“He was killed at the Vatican by one of the suicide bombers. He was standing right next to the man dressed as a monk. Over thirty Guards lost their lives that day.”
“Were you there? In St. Peter’s square?”
“Yes. Hermann invited me and my sister, Abbie. We were far away from the Pope at the entrance of the square. But we saw the bombs explode—five at once. The sight was horrific. We were almost trampled to death by the panic. Abbie pulled me to safety. She saved my life.”
“That’s terrible. I’m so sorry for your loss. Abbie must be a special girl.”
“She has Downs Syndrome. Many people are mean to her because of her disabilities. They assume she is stupid because she speaks and looks different. But she is exceptional. I’m blessed to have her in my life.”
“So that’s why you’re willing to help me? You know, to identify the secret account?”
“Yes, that is one reason. But I’m also very frustrated with the Secrecy laws. They forbid law enforcement from accessing the names unless we can first prove a crime.
“How hard is that to prove?”
“Very hard. We have to know who the account owner is first before they will issue the search warrant. We can’t search the accounts. In fact, we don’t have access to the accounts.”
“What do you mean? There isn’t a central database?”
“No. Each bank has its own list, and they protect it like it’s the Holy Grail.”
“So how can you help me? We don’t know the name of the account owner. That’s what we’re trying to find out.”
“I know. But there is someone who can help who has a list of accounts. Based on the account number, it should be on the list.”
“Great, how can I contact him?”
Silvie reached into her backpack and pulled out a business card. “Call the number on the card. I heard they would help. Be prepared to pay cash. Be careful. It may be a trap by Swiss counterintelligence.”
“What will happen if the Swiss government finds out you helped me?”
“You’ll never see me again. You need to find out who’s responsible for the bombings. You must find Hermann’s killer.”