“Sorry James. Where were we?”
Rogerson’s door flew open.
“Pete come in here please.”
“For fuck’s sake. Now what!”
As Dennis got closer to his editor’s office he saw the man in the brown suit rise out of a chair. The stranger waited until Rogerson closed the door before he extended his hand.
“Mr Dennis I am inspector Thomas Bauer of the Austrian Criminal Intelligence Service or if you wish Interpol. I am an Austrian police officer based in Vienna where I work and report to the minister of the interior.”
Dennis shook the hand.
“How do you do.”
“I’ll leave you to it,” Rogerson said. He closed the door quietly behind him.
“Your boss thought it would be better if we talked in here. I would appreciate it Mr Dennis if you didn’t discuss what I’m going to say to you outside of this room. I am, of course, investigating the theft of one of my country’s greatest treasures. A theft which has caused much embarrassment to my government.”
“Look I already told the police everything I know.”
“Yes you spoke with a chief inspector Jones did you not.”
Dennis nodded.
“The Metropolitan police are only interested in the gun crime committed and though they assure me they are investigating the theft of the ’Spear of Destiny’ I assure you they are not.”
“I don’t see what I can do to help.”
Bauer reached into his jacket and took out a large manila envelope. He took out a photograph and passed it to Dennis.
“The spear of destiny,” Dennis said, studying the picture.
“Not quite.”
“What?”
“That photograph was taken yesterday.”
“Then you’ve got it back.”
“No Mr Dennis. The one stolen on Friday was a fake.”
Dennis raised his eyebrows.
“A fake. Then the real one is safe.”
“No not exactly. The real one was stolen a month ago.”
“From where? The Schatzkammer.”
“Yes Mr Dennis. The schatzkammer.”
“How come this is the first anyone has heard of it. News of that nature would have made headlines.”
“No. The Austrian government managed to keep it quiet. As I said it is of great embarrassment. Three security guards died trying to protect the real one.”
“So if the real one was stolen why would someone steal a fake. Be prepared to kill for a fake.”
Bauer took another photograph from the envelope and passed it to Dennis.
“Do you know this man?”
Dennis looked straight into the eyes of count Otto Brest von Werner.
“Yes I know him. He was, that is to say, we were involved in an incident three months ago in which he took my partner and I hostage. He was killed.”
“Mr Dennis Von Werner is very much alive.”
“Impossible. I saw them pluck his body from the sea.”
Another photograph. This one was black and white and grainy. Dennis looked at a hooded figure, terribly disfigured, but there was no mistaking the eyes.
“Von Werner,” Dennis said quietly.
“Yes. This photograph was captured by CCTV. He was sitting in the lead range rover outside the British museum. This photograph was obtained when the spear was passed to him through the window. Dennis stared at the photograph open mouthed.
“He was in prison in Tunisia. His private army broke him out on a routine journey from hospital. Several Tunisian military and police were killed. Until Friday his whereabouts was unknown. We suspect he’s behind the Vienna spear being stolen.”
“How did he, they, get him out of Tunisia?”
“Helicopters took him to Carthage where he escaped on his own yacht.”
“And he made it home?”
“Back to his castle in Bavaria. We don’t know where he is now. The range rover’s were found abandoned at St Katherine docks. The fake spear was left in the boot of one of them.”
“There are a couple of things I don’t understand. First if Von Werner stole the real spear what did he want with the fake one?”
“Mr Dennis are you aware of the legend of the spear’s healing powers?”
“Yes I wrote an article on it.”
“We can assume that Von Werner has attempted to heal himself using the spear’s powers and that it didn’t work. That is probably why he has stolen the fake one. Upon close inspection he will have realised the London spear was a fake. It is said that the spear only contains healing powers where our saviour Jesus Christ spilled his blood.”
“You mean where he was crucified.”
“Or anywhere he has spilled his blood or healed the sick. There are many legends in the bible. He travelled for most of his adult life.”
“So it could work anywhere if it works at all.”
“That’s correct Mr Dennis.”
“I need to swot up on the bible.”
“You said there were a couple of things you didn’t understand. What was the other matter?”
“What exactly does all this have to do with me?”
CHAPTER FIVE
Peter Dennis rang Natalie’s phone again for the umpteenth time. She was just entering his pin number on the chip and pin device when she suddenly realised her phone was vibrating in her handbag. She saw the caller was Dennis.
“Hello,” she said, putting the phone between her shoulder and ear to keep her hands free.
“Babe where are you?”
“I’m still shopping in Harrods. I’ve bought some great shoes and some really nice lingerie I just know you’re going to love.”
“That’s great babe. Listen. Sorry. I know you’re excited but something has come up. Something you’re not gonna believe. How long is Jim in London?”
“He leaves on Saturday.”
“Is there somewhere we can meet him? How about his hotel?”
“If he’s there. He’s giving a talk tonight at a gallery in Chelsea. Why? What’s all this about?”
“Look can you get hold of him and arrange to meet him. Tell him he really doesn’t want to miss this.”
“Why don’t you ring him.”
“I’ve tried and besides I’m not sure how safe it is. My phone may have been hacked.”
“Hacked!”
“From what I’ve heard today. Listen I’ll explain when I see you. Get Jim. We need to meet somewhere to talk. All of us. A quiet bar somewhere if not his hotel. Okay.”
“There’s a winebar not far from me. I’ll get Jim to meet us there.”
“I know the place. I’ll see you as soon as I can get there.”
Forty five minutes later Peter Dennis burst through the front door of the pub. Natalie and Jim Hutchinson were standing at the bar waiting for him. He kissed Natalie briefly on the lips, then shook the American’s hand.
“What are you having to drink? It’s my shout,” Hutchinson said.
“Budweiser please,” Dennis answered to the girl behind the bar.
“Make that three,” Hutchinson said placing a twenty pound note on the bar. Dennis waited until the three bottles of beer had been handed out and Hutchinson had received his change before saying.
“Let’s sit in that booth at the back. It’s a bit quieter.”
The men waited for Natalie to sit and as Hutchinson sat Dennis threw himself into his seat and puffing up his cheeks he blew his breath out.
“You won’t believe the day I’ve just had.”
“I guess by the urgency you’re about to tell us.”
Dennis looked at Natalie long and hard, not sure of where to start. Then he began.
“I now know who was behind Friday night. Who stole the spear.”
Hutchinson leaned closer.
“Who?”
Dennis looked straight into Natalie’s eyes.
“Von Werner.”
“What?” Hutchinson said.
Dennis nodded.