“Wonder who he worked for,” Joanne noted. “It sounds illegal to me.”
“Aye, probably a cover,” Nina replied.
“I could not leave her there and I could not drive to Montreal to drop her off, you know? So I took her with me in the plane. At the airstrip I met up with my sire, Johann… he is dead now.”
“Your sire?” Sam's voice sounded sharply on the speaker.
“That’s what they called the guy who brings you in, you know, the guy who is responsible for you and gives you High Command's orders. Johann Kriel was my sire. And his sire was waiting for us to get to the Torngat Mountains, but they told me nothing up front. Johann was very upset about Leslie, but she promised to stay out of the way and she promised, you know, not to let Yvetta see her.”
“Yvetta was Erich and Johann's boss, an Austrian aristocrat with a hard-on for gold and guns,” Sam said briskly.
“They flew us to Weather Station Kurt way up, up, up, you know…there by Martin Bay?”
By Erich's expression his interviewer (Sam) was not familiar with the places he mentioned, so he carried on. “There was a weather station there, but a few miles from there a temporary weather camp was set up by my peopl, for us to stay over if we had to, you know? I’d never been there before, but before Yvetta got there Leslie hid under one of the military beds in the second prefab structure, waiting for me.”
“We're running out of battery. Shit,” Sam's voice same from behind the camera again. “Erich, can you maybe recount your story a little bit quicker?”
“Of course. We were there to load three MAC trucks' worth of stuff hidden off-shore in Martin Bay onto two trawlers. Gold coins, precious metals cast as kettles, pots and vases, you know? Even entire boxes made of solid gold with jewelry inside! Took eight of us to load it. Of course, Leslie got curious about the temporary stores so near to the place where nothing happens…”
Nina gawked at her friend, who in turn gloated and smiled. They would leave this discussion until after the credits, so to speak.
“…and she somehow got her hands on one of the large coins when Johann and two of his men saw her come out of the toilet with it in her hand, but they decided to deal with her later. So when Yvetta arrived, we were all in deep trouble — cavity searched by Yvetta's security men for gold pieces because she did not trust us after loading the loot into the containers on the boats.”
Sam turned to Nina and Joanne. “See, he told me afterwards that the loot was kept in a sunken German U-boat under the water of Martin Bay. The perfect vault to have hidden treasure, right? I almost admire their guile.”
“It is rather cunning. Besides, nobody would even think to go up there. It’s cold as fuck and there’s no indication that a shit load of gold is stashed there,” Nina said. “It’s a perfect hiding place.”
“When I went back inside, Yvetta was on my ass. I tried to warn Leslie, but she was climbing out of the bathroom window with Johann grabbing at her feet. He told Yvetta that Leslie was a thief, but before he could point fingers I…” Erich swallowed hard and dropped his chin in remorse. “I shouted out that Leslie was with him, that she was his girlfriend and he was playing Yvetta… and then… she shot Johann in the back of the head right there!” he wailed, wringing his hands again. Erich's eyes were so wide with terror in his recollection that the lens almost captured the long lost humanity in them. “Just like that, Mr. Cleave! Right in front of me without even thinking twice, she shot my sire for a lie I told. I betrayed him and I betrayed Leslie, because Yvetta immediately promoted me and told me to help her hunt Leslie down!”
“You had to or she would have killed you,” Sam's voice sounded through the speaker.
“Do you know what it is like, Mr. Cleave? To live your whole life a wretch because your recklessness caused your woman's death?”
Oh shit, thought Nina, quickly glancing at Sam, wondering if he was thinking of the same thing she was — that his passion for getting a good story inadvertently got his fiancé killed right in front of him. Nina wondered if Sam still cried in his sleep when his recurring nightmares cheated him out of saving Trish to perpetuate his guilt complex.
But Sam did not return her gaze. Either he was actively fighting the horrible recollection or he was simply past the compunction. So she let it go, not having heard if the voice behind the camera lens even answered the wasting, weeping man.
“A day after running my beloved Leslie into a corner, Yvetta killed her like a dog after she… we… hunted her down in the outskirts of a small village a few miles away. They never told me where Yvetta's men dumped her body. Jesus! What have I done? Wh-what have I done? I was in love with her moments after I met her and that was what I gave her as a gift?”
They watched Erich curl up in his chair, sobbing like a child. Shifting uncomfortably in their seats, Joanne, Nina, and Sam sat watching Erich Bonn breaking down while the camera kept rolling. From under his hands he wailed. “I still hear her shivering breath before those gunshots ripped twice through her beautiful face. I still hear her at night. Oh Jesus, she must have been so cold before we caught up with her. So very cold! So very lonely.”
Again Nina looked at Sam. He had to relate to seeing his lover's face get blown off. It had happened to Leslie. And it had happened to Patricia. As the camera swayed, with the Low Battery light flashing on the display, Sam looked at Nina in silent reverence and sorrow. Until the clip ran its full length, the historian and the journalist — best friends, former lovers, confidants — just basked in each others eyes. They both knew. They both cared and they both found the experience deeply therapeutic.
“Well,” Joanne broke the thrall with a loud exclamation that shattered any emotional reminiscence, “now we know what happened to Leslie.”
“Aye,” Nina agreed, but her words were directed at Sam. “But I’m sure she is at peace now. He did love her and the world knows.”
In the glare of the monitor screen Nina noticed an unusual glimmer in Sam's dark eyes before a single tear escaped and fell from his cheek.
Chapter 18 — Going Down to Die
Purdue woke up in a moving car, but unlike what he’d had expected, he was not en route to the Oban Police Precinct. This only affirmed his assumption about the phony police officer. He kept his eyes shut to ascertain his position and destination first. It was imperative to keep his consciousness secret for now, since he had no idea what his condition would prompt in the man who’d abducted him.
Is he going to take me to Nina? he wondered in the dark of his charade. This has to be the man who took her. Hopefully I’m just a loose end he will keep as leverage until I can figure out what he wants with us.'
With his eyes closed it was very difficult to see where they were driving, but Purdue could tell that it was a highway of sorts by the way in which the car smoothly changed lanes and he could hear passing cars speed by frequently. Other than that, he had no idea who the man was, what he wanted, or just how expendable his kidnap victims were. Whenever in doubt, Purdue had learned through many trials, play dead, look asleep, or behave oblivious in some way. It was a trick that had worked as well in the hazards of his life as it had in a poker game. To add to his vexation, he’d been relieved of his wrist watch. Of his own design, his watch recorded global positioning details and performed a wealth of other functions, functions he could have found very useful right now.