"That would indeed be the logical assumption," Lasche agreed. "And yet the fact remains they were gone. And what was in them, and where they are now, is something I fear we will never know."
CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR
It's him!" Bailey exclaimed, tapping the screen excitedly with his finger. "It must be."
"Are you sure?" Cody urged. "We only get one shot at this. If we tail him and someone else shows up, we'll miss them."
"Sure as I can be. Stocky, cropped blond hair, early forties, smoker. He matches the description we were given. And, according to your guy on the inside, he's just come down from Lasche's floor."
"Fine. Get a still off to the lab and have them run it through the system," Cody instructed the girl standing next to him. "See if they come up with a match."
"What about his buddy?" Bailey asked, angling his head slightly for a better view of the jittery picture being beamed in from the agent stationed opposite the hotel entrance. "We should check him out too."
"Good idea," said Cody. "Chances are, he's not acting alone."
The girl nodded and then disappeared into the adjacent room.
"What do you want to do, sir?" asked one of the operatives, looking over her shoulder at Cody.
"Our FBI friend says he's a match" — he winked at Bai-ley—"so tell Roberts to roll."
She turned back to face her screen. "Mobile One, this is Central. Be advised that the subject has been confirmed as our primary mark. Track and hold your distance."
The image on the monitor jerked unsteadily as the agent wearing the concealed camera set off, the shifting red dot on the plasma screen above confirming that he was on the move.
"All agents," the operator continued, "primary mark is leaving the hotel and heading north toward the river. Move to intercept at grid point—"
"Correction, Central," the speaker hissed. "Primary mark has turned east. I repeat, primary mark has turned east toward Bahnhofstrasse."
"Bahnhofstrasse? Shit," Cody muttered, approaching the back of the operator's chair. "Who else have we got down there?"
"Mobile Two and Three are—"
"Their names, Jesus, give me their names," Cody snapped. "We haven't got time for all this code-word bullshit."
"Marquez and Henry can be there in sixty seconds. Jones, Wilton, and Gregan will take about two minutes to get in position."
"Get them all down there, ASAP. I need as many pairs of eyes on this guy as we've got."
"What's the problem?" asked Bailey.
"The problem is that Bahnhofstrasse at this time is like Fifth Avenue on the first day of the winter sales," Cody replied with an anxious shake of his head. "If he gets down there and we're not sticking to him like a hot date on prom night, we'll lose him in the crowds."
Bailey glanced up at the plasma screen. Six red dots were rapidly converging on Bahnhofstrasse.
"Okay, here we go," Cody said with a rueful sigh, as the image on the camera showed the backs of the two men as they filtered into the thick stream of rush-hour shoppers and commuters. "Stay with him, Roberts," he muttered. "Don't lose him."
The man identified by Cody as Roberts stayed close, the image he was beaming back suggesting that he was only twenty feet behind the two men. That was much closer than was typically safe or advisable, but under the circumstances it was an unavoidable risk. Two more agents closed in on the targets, one from each side, so that they now had three camera feeds of the same scene, each showing a slightly different angle, on the small monitors in front of them.
The targets paused in front of one of the innumerable jewelers, paused, shook hands, and then separated, heading briskly off in different directions.
"What do you want to do?" Cody spun to face Bailey.
"Shit!" Bailey anxiously rubbed the bridge of his nose. "I don't know. I need to ask Carter."
"Carter isn't here. This is your call now."
Bailey was silent as he considered what to do. Carter had told him that he was there to observe, not to make decisions. But if he didn't make one now, both men would get away.
"Seconds count, Bailey," Cody urged.
"Blondi. Follow Blondi."
"You sure?"
"That's who we came here for," said Bailey, hoping his gut instinct was the right one. "We can't lose him now."
"You got it. Roberts, Marquez, Henry — stay on the primary mark," the operator intoned. "Jones, Wilton, Gre-gan — take up your positions and be prepared to relieve the others as they come past. I don't want him seeing the same face more than once."
"Roger," came the crackled response.
The man known as Blondi moved on, casually surveying the shop windows, pausing momentarily in front of one particularly gaudy display. And then, without warning, just as a tram came past, he broke into a run.
"Shit, he's made us," Cody exclaimed. "Okay, all units move in. Repeat, move in. Let's take him down."
"What do you mean, he's made us?" Bailey took a worried step toward the screen. "How did he make us?"
"Because he's good."
"He's getting on the tram," the speaker crackled.
"Well, get on it with him. Don't lose him."
The images being beamed back bounced wildly as the three agents broke into a run, the sound of their breathing echoing through the room. No one was talking, their eyes and attention totally focused on the screens.
Rapidly closing the gap on the tram, the two agents leaped aboard, one closely followed by the other, just as the doors shut behind them.
"Where is he?" Bailey whispered.
"Find him and get him off," Cody ordered.
The images showed the tram's interior and close-ups of other passengers' surprised faces. But there was no sign of the man they had followed.
"There!" Cody exclaimed, thumping his finger against the screen.
On one of the monitors they could see, through the tram window, a man standing on the pavement, waving them good-bye.
"How did he do that?" Bailey asked, his voice a disbelieving whisper.
"Because he's a pro." Cody banged the table in front of him with the palm of his hand. "Jesus, it's like he knew we'd be waiting for him."
"Maybe he did, sir." Returning from the room next door, the young operator handed Cody a piece of paper.
"What's that?" asked Bailey.
"Austrian police have just put out an APB on a man they are looking for in connection with the murder of a woman, Maria Lammers, and the fire-bombing of a church in Kitz-biihel in the Austrian Alps early this morning," Cody replied, reading from the sheet.
"What's that got to do with this case?"
"Several witnesses have reported seeing a stranger with the victim the previous day. They were able to give a description."
Cody held up the composite sketch faxed through by the Austrian police and next to it the still photo just taken of Blondi leaving the Hotel Drei Konige.
It was unmistakably the same man.
CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE
What's wrong?" Dominique's eyes were wide with concern.
"Is Archie back?" Tom was breathing heavily, his voice strained.
"Why, what's happened? Are you okay? You're not hurt, are you?"
"No, I'm fine. It's Archie I'm worried about. A man followed us when we came out of the hotel." Tom took off his overcoat and threw it over the arm of one of the worn sofas. "He was waiting for us." He turned to Dhutta. "Have you told anyone we're here?"
"No, Mr. Tom, I can assure you that—"
"I hope for your sake you haven't," Tom said coldly. "I can think of several people who would be very interested in your current whereabouts. If you've breathed so much as a word about us to anyone…"