Eight Days to Live (18 page)

“And has anyone come searching for her yet?”

“I don’t know. It wasn’t my business. If you want to know, you’ll have to ask her.”

“It’s not my business either.” But she was still curious. Her brief encounter with Lina Alsouk had been as intriguing as it had been frustrating. “If she does her job, that should be all that’s important to me.”

“She’s wounded,” Jock said. “You sensed it when you first saw her. That’s why you weren’t certain you should leave the translation with her. You didn’t want her to be hurt any more than she was already. You have trouble ignoring the wounded.”

“You make me sound like a do-gooder. If she’s wounded, then she’s walking wounded, and she’s using an AK-47 as a crutch.”

“It will still bother you.” He smiled. “Your instinct is to heal wounds. You can’t help it.”

“I just don’t want anyone else to be hurt or killed because of me.” She turned to Caleb. “You said we’d be at the bank in Zurich by five?”

“Yes, by the skin of our teeth. We have to stop at a drugstore first. And we just have to hope that Henrik Barnard isn’t taking a day off.”

“Who is Henrik Barnard?”

“Your own private banker.”

“What?”

“Well, Adah Ziller’s banker. It was the name on the same card that had her bank-account number.”

“Then why did you call him my banker?”

“Because the only way we’re going to get into that safety-deposit box is if you’re Adah Ziller.”

She stared at him in astonishment. “Are you crazy? Adah Ziller was black.”

“Actually, to be precise, a beautiful coffee-with-cream brown. A good bronzer makeup on your face and hands should take care of that. We’ll have to tuck your hair under a hat.”

“And where are we supposed to get that?”

“The drugstore. You can get practically anything at a drugstore these days.”

“I’d never get away with it,” she said flatly. “Drugstore? This is all too crude. Banks have cameras. Swiss banks are the most sophisticated in the world.”

“You’re right. And the most private. That’s why we have an excellent chance.” He glanced at her. “You don’t have to worry about being under intense scrutiny. No one is going to get close to you but Henrik Barnard. We only need the dark makeup to make sure that nothing is too obvious.”

“Obvious? It’s obvious that I’m not black. And I probably weigh ten pounds more than Adah Ziller. She was built like a runway model.”

“Trust me. It will all come together,” Caleb said.

“If she doesn’t get arrested,” Jock said. “There will be guards all over that bank.”

Caleb looked directly into her eyes. “Trust me.”

It was crazy. A bank full of officers and clerks and guards ready to step in and protect the sanctity of the Swiss banking system. Yet Caleb wasn’t crazy, and he thought they could get away with it. They needed to know what was in that safety-deposit box.

Why the hell not try? she thought recklessly. “You’d better not be mistaken, Caleb.”

“I won’t let you be hurt.” His glance shifted back to the road. “I promise.”

She looked back at Jock. “You’re not arguing with me.”

“It wouldn’t do any good,” Jock said quietly. “I’ll just have to go along with him and see if he hurts you.” He smiled. “And then I’ll kill him.”

Caleb burst out laughing. “A good plan.”

“Jock, you don’t go in that bank with us,” Jane said firmly. “I won’t have it.”

“I won’t argue about that either,” Jock said. “Someone has to be free to get you out of trouble if this idiocy blows up in your faces. I’ll be the getaway man again.”

“You said if,” Caleb said. “Not when. Interesting.”

“Is it?” Jock leaned back in the seat. “Take it apart, analyze it. It will give you something to do on the drive to Zurich.”

“THAT BRONZER IS PRETTY GOOD.”
Caleb was gazing at her critically. “But you need more on your hands.”

She took the pad and poured more bronzer on it. “I can’t get it dark enough. I just look like I have a deep tan.”

“So did Adah Ziller. You’re dark enough.” He handed her the black straw hat and gold hoop earrings. “Hurry. It’s quarter to five.”

“Pressure.” She tucked every strand of her red-brown hair beneath the wide-brimmed hat and put on the two-inch hoops. She did look exotic, she thought critically, as she looked at the mirror on the dashboard, but nothing like Adah Ziller. “It’s not going to work.”

“It will work.” He got out of the driver’s seat and came around to open her passenger door. “All we have to do is make it easy for them. Some of the other bank employees may possibly have seen Adah Ziller, but it’s not likely. This is a private bank.”

“What does that mean? What’s the difference?” Jock asked as he got out of the back and changed to the driver’s seat.

“Private banks are often by invitation only, and that invitation is extended principally to individuals with extremely high assets. Or by recommendation by another current customer in good standing. Since on the surface Adah doesn’t appear to have that kind of money, I’d bet that her recommendation must have come from one of her past liaisons. One of the privileges is that she’d be assigned a bank officer to take care of her assets.”

“Henrik Barnard,” Jane said.

He nodded. “And the chances are that there would have been some personal contact between them or that he would have at least seen a photo of her.”

“Then you’re screwed,” Jock said flatly.

“No,” Caleb said. “Not if I go in first and prepare the way.
Adah Ziller is probably not particularly high-profile on the bank’s charts. Unlike what the movies would lead you to believe, there’s no high-tech retina scan or fingerprint analysis. We only have to jump over the barrier of the bank officer. Here’s the way it’s going to work. Barnard will escort you to the vault and get your safety-deposit box. The box is actually a box within another box. You have a key and so does the bank officer. You both have to use your keys to open the outer box. Then he’ll take the inner box and you to an adjoining room and leave you there to go through the contents in privacy. You call him when you’re done, and he takes the box back to the vault.”

“What if they already know that she’s been murdered?” Jane asked as a sudden thought occurred to her. “What if it’s in today’s newspaper or something?”

“It’s a possibility, but that happened in Paris. It’s not local news here in Switzerland. We have a good chance of her death not being noticed here so soon. If it is, it won’t be front-page news. I’ll know before I call you to come into the bank. I’ll tell him I’m your attorney, Jason Smythe, and wish to accompany you to the vault.” He opened the glass door. “Wait here, Jane. It shouldn’t take long.” He disappeared into the bank.

“It can’t work,” Jock told Jane. “It’s not too late to change your mind.”

“I’ll take my chances.”

“You really believe he can pull it off.” Jock shook his head. “It’s not possible. He can’t just march in there and convince that bank officer that black is white.”

“Actually, he’s going to convince him that white is black,” she said ruefully. “I hope.”

“We’ll see.” He glanced up and down the busy city street. “I don’t like this. I feel . . . uneasy.”

So did Jane, but how else could she feel under the circumstances? she thought. Jock was right, this entire scenario was bizarre in the extreme. “It should be over soon.” It couldn’t be over too soon for her.

“Adah.” Caleb had opened the gold-lettered glass entrance door and was smiling at her. “I’ve already told Mr. Barnard how sorry we are not to have called and made advance arrangements.” He turned to a small, plump, gray-haired man in a navy blue pinstriped suit. “I promise we won’t keep you too long.”

“Nonsense.” Barnard was beaming at Jane. “As I told Mr. Smythe, I’m at your disposal twenty-four hours a day. All you’d have to do is call me, and I’d have come back and opened the bank for you, Miss Ziller. Come in. Come in.”

“That’s very kind.” She moved into the bank and was at once enveloped in the aura of hushed murmurs, charcoal-colored granite countertops, rich mahogany executive desks. “I don’t want to be a bother. My attorney just told me that he had to have those docu—”

“That’s none of my concern,” Barnard said. “My only business is to make things as easy for you as possible. Step this way, and we’ll get the matter taken care of immediately.” He smiled as he led her toward the back of the bank. “And may I say how wonderful you’re looking today? I understand you were a trifle ill when that photo I have of you was taken. But now you appear very fit.”

“Thank you.” She supposed that translated to the more than twenty pounds she had over Adah Ziller. “I’m feeling much better.” She glanced at Caleb. “Aren’t I, Mr. Smythe?”

“Blooming,” he murmured. “Though you couldn’t look anything but beautiful. That comes from within.” He stepped aside to permit her to precede him into the vault. “I’ve always known that you have an extraordinary soul. It shines through.”

“This way.” Barnard was waiting at the wall of boxes and gazing down at the numbers on the sheet in his hands. “You have your key?”

“Yes.” She reached into her bag and grasped the gold key. “I’m ready when you are, Mr. Barnard.”

JOCK GLANCED AT
his watch—5:20
P.M
.

Jane and Caleb had been in the bank for over fifteen minutes.

Not a long time, but he still was experiencing the frisson of uneasiness that had plagued him before Jane had gone into the bank.

He glanced down the street again. Just a typical urban rush hour, with all its attendant noise and bustle.

Not typical. His every instinct was telling them that there was something wrong, something that had nothing to do with Caleb’s weird shenanigans in that bank.

5:22
P.M
.

Come on, Jane. Let’s get the hell out of here.

THE LARGE SAFETY - DEPOSIT BOX
was empty except for a fourteen-by-ten black container that was no more than four inches in depth.

“That’s it?” Jane glanced down at it. “That’s not a jewelry box. It looks too heavy-duty. Maybe you’re right, and it’s blackmail letters or something.”

“Or something.” He lifted the black container onto the table. “It has some weight to it.”

She lifted the lid. “What the hell?” She frowned as she pushed aside the cotton padding. Inside was another box, but this one was gold and studded with blue lapis. “Wow. Now this is worthy of a Swiss bank deposit. But she’d have to have a lot of jewelry to fill this beauty.” She lifted the thin, filigreed lid. More cotton padding. She impatiently pushed it aside. “A tablet?” A large stone tablet with script that was tiny, precise, and completely filled the tablet. She studied the script. “Arabic?”

“I don’t think so. Maybe Aramaic . . .” His eyes were narrowed. “This is granite, and it looks old. Not that I’m an expert.”

“Well, we’re not going to be able to do anything with it here.” She closed the lid and put the black box in her tote. “It
is
heavy. And it must have been important to Adah if she put this in a safety-deposit box.”

“Maybe.” Caleb shut the deposit box and locked it. “Let’s get out of here.”

“What do you mean? ‘Maybe’?” She followed him into the vault room, where Barnard was waiting. She forced a smile as she handed him the metal box. “Thank you again, Mr. Barnard.”

“It was my pleasure.” He put the deposit box into the larger outer box and turned the key. “If you please?”

Jane inserted her key and turned it.

Caleb looked up at the video camera in a corner of the room. “It’s a shame you’re having trouble with those cameras, Barnard.”

Jane’s eyes widened. Count on Caleb to cover their tracks. She hadn’t even thought beyond getting to the box.

Caleb was shaking his head. “Perhaps if you erased the video and started it over, it would reset them?”

Barnard frowned. “I suppose that’s possible. Yes, I’ll try it. It’s a shame that you can’t trust technology when you need it.”

“I’m sure it will be fine once you reset it. You Swiss are the true
masters of fine workmanship.” He took Jane’s elbow and urged her down the corridor toward the front door. “Good day, Mr. Barnard. I can’t tell you how helpful you’ve been.”

“Good day.”

Jane glanced back to see Henrik Barnard standing where they’d left him, frowning up at the video camera.

“Will he erase them?” she asked in a low voice as Caleb opened the front door for her.

“Eighty-five percent probability. If he doesn’t do it now, it will bother him enough to make him come back later and do it.”

“It’s scary that you have it down to percentages.”

“I’ve been at this a long time. We didn’t need a video record of our presence in the bank. It was only another little push for me.”

“And what happens when he discovers that Adah Ziller is dead?”

“Nothing. After he erases the videos, he won’t remember that you were ever here.”

“What about the receptionist at the desk who announced you to him?”

He didn’t reply. He didn’t have to answer. “She won’t remember either, will she?”

“Not if I did my job.” He glanced at her as they reached the car. “It still bothers you, doesn’t it?”

“Hell yes, it bothers me. I either have to doubt my sanity or accept the unacceptable. No one should have the ability to do that.”

“But I do. I didn’t ask for it, but it’s part of me. I handle it the best way I can.” He opened the passenger door for her. “And I’m going to use it to protect you whether you like it or not.” He glanced at Jock behind the wheel. “Is everything okay?”

“No, I don’t think so,” Jock said curtly. “Get in the car.”

“Right.” Caleb jumped in the backseat and glanced at the rearview mirror. “What the hell is wrong?”

“I don’t know.” Jock started the car. “It just doesn’t feel . . . I don’t know. Are we going back to Lina’s place now?”

“Yes.” Jane was studying his face. She knew that expression. Tense, alert, on edge. “There was a gold box with a tablet in the deposit box. Very small script that might be Aramaic. We’ll have to have Lina take a look at it.”

“There wasn’t anything else? Maybe some more of those coins you found in her bedroom?”