“No, not numbers. Look.” He showed her his cell phone. An untraceable number sent a text with a station reference. “I tuned the radio to that station, and he told me to quit — in plain English.”
“He threatened you?” she frowned. “Are you sure it is not someone else fucking with you?”
“How would he send me a text with the frequency of the station and then talk to me there?” he countered.
“No, that is not what I mean. How do you know it is from Milla? There are many of these stations scattered all over the world, Detlef. Be careful who you communicate with,” she warned.
“You are right. I did not even think about that,” he admitted. “I have been so desperate to hold on to things Gabi loved, the things she was passionate about, you know? It has made me blind to danger and sometimes…I don’t care.”
“Well, you have to care, Widower. The world depends on you,” Nina winked with a reassuring pat on his arm.
Detlef felt a renewed sense of purpose at her words. “I like that,” he grinned.
“What?” Nina asked.
“That name — Widower. It sounds like a superhero, don't you think?” he boasted.
“I think it is pretty cool, actually, even though it is a word that denotes a sad state. It refers to something heartbreaking,” she said.
“That is true,” he nodded, “but that's who I am now, you know? Widower means that I am still Gabi's husband, you see?”
Nina loved the way Detlef saw things. Through all the hell of his loss, he still managed to take his sad moniker and turn it into an ode. “That is very cool, Widower.”
“Oh, by the way, these are the numbers from the actual station, from Milla today,” he pointed out, giving Nina the sheet of paper. “You decipher it. I am terrible at anything without a trigger or a pull pin.”
“Alright, but I think you should get rid of your phone,” Nina advised. “If they have your number they can track us, and I get a very foreboding vibe from that text you received. Let's not lead them to us, okay? I don't want to wake up dead.”
“You know people like these can find us without tracking our phones, right?” he retorted, getting a firm look from the pretty historian. “Alright. I’ll dump it.”
“So we have someone threatening us via text messages now?” Purdue said, leaning casually against the doorway.
“Purdue!” Nina cried and lunged forward to throw her arms around him with delight. “I'm so glad you're awake. What happened?”
“You really should get rid of your phone, Detlef. The people who killed your wife might be the ones who contacted you,” he told the widower. Nina felt a little neglected by his seriousness. She promptly withdrew. ‘Suit yourself.’
“Who are those people, by the way?” Detlef sneered. Purdue was not his friend. He did not like being dictated to by someone he suspected of murdering his wife. He still did not have a real answer to the question who killed his wife, so as far as he was concerned, they were only getting along for Nina and Sam's sake — for now.
“Where is Sam?” Nina asked, breaking up the looming cock fight.
“In the shower,” Purdue said indifferently. Nina didn't like his attitude, but she was used to being in the middle of testosterone-driven pissing contests, even though that didn't mean she liked it. “Must be his longest shower ever,” she scoffed, pushing past Purdue to get into the corridor. She went into the kitchen to make coffee to defuse the brooding atmosphere. “Are you clean yet, Sam?” she teased as she passed the bathroom where she heard the water clattering on the tiles. “Going to cost the old man all his hot water.” Nina intended to decipher the latest codes while savoring the coffee she had been craving for over an hour.
“Jesus Christ!” she screamed suddenly. She stumbled back against the wall and covered her mouth at the sight. Her knees buckled as she collapsed slowly. Her eyes were frozen, just staring at the old Russian who sat in his favorite chair. Before him on the table sat his full tumbler of vodka waiting while next to it rested his blood stained hand, still gripping the shard of a broken mirror he had slit his own throat with.
Purdue and Detlef came rushing out, ready to fight. They faced the horrific scene and stood stunned until Sam joined them from the bathroom.
As the shock set in, Nina started to shake profusely, sobbing at the heinous incident that must have taken place while she had been in Detlef's room. Sam, only wearing a towel, approached the old man curiously. He scrutinized the position of Kiril’s hand and the direction of the gash across his upper throat. The circumstances were consistent with suicide; he had to accept that. He looked at the other two men. There was no suspicion in his gaze, but there was a dark warning there that provoked Nina to distract him.
“Sam, once you are dressed, would you help me clean him up?” she asked, sniffing as she got to her feet.
“Aye.”
Chapter 24
After they had taken care of Kiril’s body and wrapped it in sheets on his bed, the atmosphere in the house was thick with tension and grief. Nina sat at the table, still sporadically shedding tears over the death of the sweet old Russian. In front of her, she had Purdue's machine and her laptop, deciphering Detlef’s number sequences slowly and without enthusiasm. Her coffee was cold, and even her pack of smokes was untouched.
Purdue joined her und gently pulled her in a sympathetic embrace. “I'm so sorry, love. I know you adored the old man.” Nina said nothing. Purdue affectionately pressed his cheek against hers, and all she could think of was how quickly his temperature had returned to normal. Under the shelter of her hair, he whispered, “Be wary of that German, please, love. He seems to be a damn good actor, but he is German. Catch my drift?”
Nina gasped. Her eyes found Purdue's as he frown silently demanded an explanation. He sighed and looked around to make sure they were alone.
“He is adamant to keep his cell phone. You know nothing about him, other than his involvement with the Berlin assassinations investigation. For all we know he could be the kingpin. He could have been the one who killed his wife when he realized that she was playing for the opposing side,” he stated his case softly.
“Did you see him killing her? At the embassy? Are you even listening to yourself?” she asked in a tone full of resentment. “He helped save you, Purdue. If it weren't for him, Sam and I would never have known you were missing. If it weren't for Detlef, we would never have known where to find the Black Sun's Kazakh shit hole to rescue you.”
Purdue smiled. His expression conveyed his victory. “Exactly my point, my dearest. This is a trap. Don’t just follow his every direction. How do you know he was not leading you and Sam to me? Maybe you were supposed to find me; supposed to get me out. All part of the grand plan?”
Nina did not want to believe it. Here she was preaching for Detlef not to be blind to danger out of nostalgia, but she was doing precisely the same thing! There was no doubt that Purdue had a valid point, but she could not process the possible betrayal just yet.
“The Black Sun is predominantly German,” Purdue continued to whisper while checking the hallway. “They have people everywhere. And who do they want to wipe off the planet most of all? Me, you and Sam. What better way to get us all together to chase an elusive treasure than to insert a double agent, a Black Sun operative, to play the victim? A victim with all the answers is more like… a villain.”
“Have you managed to decode the information, Nina?” Detlef asked as he came in from outside, dusting off his shirt.
Purdue gave her an intense look as he stroked her hair one last time before going into the kitchen to get a drink. Nina had to keep her cool and play along until she could somehow figure out if Detlef was playing for the wrong team. “Almost done,” she told him, hiding any doubt she was harboring. “I just hope we get enough information to find anything useful. What if this message is not about the location of the Amber Room?”