“Hermann gives me plenty,” she whispered back at him.
He took another swig of his beer, finishing it. “I’ve seen him in the locker room. I can give you so much more.”
Wanting to spit in his face, she held back. She had to calm herself. This man meant nothing. He was a lower-level player. Conrad was the man. She simply brushed by Miko and whispered, “I thought you liked little boys.”
Not knowing his expression, she kept walking until she reached the master suite, locking the door behind her. Moving to the window, she looked out at the back yard and the dead garden, the snow glimmering in the sunlight. Was that movement on the mountainside? A deer looking for food, perhaps. Her mind drifted and she wondered how long it would take before the first man hit on her. Less than twenty-four hours. Not a record, but not too unimpressive. Maybe she could use that tension to her advantage. Backing away from the window, she smiled and lay back onto the bed, the shower echoing through the wall at her.
Toni and Kurt had watched from the gasthaus as the cars rushed past their window back toward Conrad’s castle. Kurt had set up the bugs to stream to a recorder. He could listen to only one at a time, though.
“Did you just hear that?” Kurt said to Toni, who was laying on the bed, her eyes closed.
“Hear what?”
“It was Miko. He just asked Conrad’s girlfriend for a fuck.”
Toni’s eyes opened. “Really? What’d she say?”
“First, it sounded like she did something physical to him. Maybe grabbed him in the balls. Then said she gets plenty from Conrad, and said she thought Miko liked young boys.”
She sat up in the bed. “That’s balls,” Toni said. “Doesn’t she know this guy is a killer?”
“I don’t know. Maybe she knows Conrad will protect her. Anyway, the bugs are working. Conrad is taking a shower.”
“Hope he puts the same shoes back on.”
“If he’s a real guy, he probably only has the one pair with him.”
She looked down at Kurt’s hiking cross-trainers. “Maybe you’re right. Why don’t you call Jake.” She lay back down on the bed.
He took out his cell phone and tried calling, but there was no answer. “Doesn’t answer.”
“If I know Jake, he’s probably already in place with his phone off.”
Kurt picked up an earpiece with a thin microphone. “When it gets closer to the time, we can get him on this.”
She patted the bed. “Better get some rest. Could be a long night.”
The small plane flew over the peaks of the Austrian Alps, Franz Martini in a seat just behind the pilot, his eyes on the snowy mountains below, and his assistant, Jack Donicht, sat in the seat next to his boss, trying his best to keep down his lunch. He hated to fly, and only Martini’s order had made him come along.
“What’s the matter, Jack?” Martini said, his gaze now on his assistant. “Having a schnitzel attack?”
Donicht’s eyes were closed. “You could say that. And why couldn’t we drive?”
Martini plopped his head toward the outside. “The roads are terrible. Besides, we want to make sure Conrad doesn’t decide to take off back to Germany before we get a chance to talk with him. I’m sure he had something to do with the murder.” He was thinking about the Interpol liaison, but at the same time wondering about Anna Schult. He was sure that man’s murder had something to do with Gustav Albrecht’s kidnapping and the Teutonic Order. Same with the triple murder at the Donau Bar. They were all connected, and he knew it. He only questioned the motive. Why? A simple question that wouldn’t go away.
24
Herr Doctor Wilhelm Altenstein had spent most of the day locked in his room, trying his best not to interact with the other men. They were animals, he was sure. Crude and unrefined. He had no idea what Hermann Conrad had in common with any of the men. And Altenstein had only come across the woman one time. She was beautiful and seemed somehow familiar. He couldn’t remember why he thought that, though.
When it came time for the grand dinner in the great hall on the first floor, he was more than a little apprehensive. After all, what could he say to these men that would do anything to further the examination of nanotechnology and its wonderful applications? These knuckle-draggers were no more likely to understand his work than a family of monkeys.
It was with that apprehension that Altenstein descended the stairs and entered the great hall — all of the men were in place along a huge table, but something had changed. They were all dressed in fine suits, the table made up with expensive China and more forks than even Altenstein knew what to do with, his angst shifting from his presentation to his own inadequate social training.
He thought about his own off-the-rack tweed suit, the leather elbows worn from years leaning on a lectern.
What stood out in the room was a man in a rumpled suit sitting at a table by himself, like a child would at a grown-up meal.
At the head of the main table was Hermann Conrad, impeccable in a gray Armani suit with a blood-red silk tie. To his right side was the woman, in a matching red dress with spaghetti straps trying to hold back the tide of her breasts flowing toward freedom. There was only one chair open, the one to Conrad’s left, where his benefactor nodded his head for Altenstein to go.
Reluctantly, Altenstein came around the table, all eyes on him. He was carrying his laptop, which he set on the table in front of him and plugged into the power and the projector.
“Welcome to Marienburg, Herr Doctor,” Conrad said. He rose and introduced each person at the table, starting with his girl friend and ending with the man on Altenstein’s left. Each man rose and nodded his head at the professor when named. There were men from Germany, Austria, the Czech Republic, Poland, Slovakia and Hungary. Twenty total, not including Herr Conrad, the woman and himself. Conrad also neglected to introduce the man who sat alone.
Maybe he had been too hasty judging these men. Perhaps they were financiers. Even men of distinction could act crude at conferences. He had seen this himself with professors — the most anal of people.
“Please, Herr Doctor, the presentation,” Conrad said, raising his glass of champagne and sipping.
Altenstein rose and started by introducing himself and the nature of his work. His slide presentation included a graphic 3D movie of nanotech probes moving about in a space of liquid that could represent body tissue.
“The nanoprobes attack cells based on the programming you give them,” Altenstein said. “Under the recent direction of Herr Conrad, me and my graduate assistant coded for hair color of mice and found that we could make the nanos attack either those mice without pigmentation, or those with any pigmentation.” He switched to a movie of actual nanos attacking cells. “This was shot with our digital camera attached to a nanoscope.”
Although the men seemed mesmerized by the images, Altenstein knew this could get boring to the average observer. So he added, “These little nanoprobes kicked some major cellular ass.”
The room erupted with laughter. There. Got them back.
Conrad rose from his chair and raised his glass toward Altenstein. “Gentlemen.” All of the others, with the exception of the woman, got to their feet and raised their glasses. The man in the corner table by himself stayed in his chair also. Conrad continued, “To Herr Doctor Altenstein. The greatest man in science, and a man who will go down in history with the New Order as a visionary without equal. They will be reading about you in books for years to come, Wilhelm. Prosit! Cheers!”
All of the men drank freely, finishing the champagne.
Now Conrad turned to the man in the corner and said, “What’s the matter, Herr Albrecht?”