The Cleaner (19 page)

Read The Cleaner Online

Authors: Brett Battles

Tags: #Fiction, #Thrillers, #Suspense, #General

BOOK: The Cleaner
3.33Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

Quinn broke off a piece of naan and dipped it in his sauce before popping it in his mouth. 'What do you think?' Orlando asked. 'Are these the guys?' 'I don't know. It could be nothing. ' Quinn reached for another piece of naan.

'But if it is them?'

Quinn didn't answer.

On Sunday at 1: 45 p. m., Quinn left the Four Seasons through the exit on Friedrichstrasse, then took the U-bahn across town to Charlottenburg. There he grabbed a cab and rode it basically back to the point where he'd begun, exiting in front of the Dorint Hotel. It may have been overkill, but there was always the possibility someone could have discovered what Duke was up to and, in turn, learned about Quinn's arrival. If that was the case, he didn't want anyone to realize Orlando and Nate were set up right next door.

As an additional precaution, Orlando was stationed in the square across the street from the Dorint, keeping him briefed via a micro-radio transmitter and receiver she'd brought with her. The receiver fit comfortably in Quinn's ear and was invisible to the casual inspection. The microphone was no bigger than a button and was affixed to the inside of his collar. Nate, similarly wired up, sat in the small hotel lobby, glancing at a magazine and pretending to wait for someone.

Quinn's check-in went quickly and efficiently. His room was prepaid, and all was ready for him. He asked if he had any messages, but there were none. The room was on the sixth floor. Another suite, though considerably smaller than the one at the Four Seasons. Quinn half expected to find an envelope with instructions waiting for him when he entered, but nothing was there.

He put his suitcase on the double bed, then took a seat on the couch in the living room. He switched on the TV and found that there were only two channels in English, CNN International and BBC World. According to the brochure on the coffee table, there

was an additional pay movie channel in English, this month featuring a Stanley Kubrick retrospective including
2001: A Space Odyssey and Full Metal Jacket.

He flipped on the news first and caught the end of a report about a bus driver strike in France, then the beginning of a report about the upcoming Balkan conference sponsored by the European Union president, Gunnar Van Vooren. Uninterested, Quinn switched over to the movie channel and found himself in the middle of the space station scene of
2001.

'Taxi, ' Orlando said in his ear. 'Two men, suits. No luggage, but one is carrying a briefcase. ' It was the third time she'd informed him of an arrival in front of the hotel. 'They're going inside. '

'Got 'em, ' Nate said a few seconds later. 'They've bypassed the front desk and are heading for the elevators.'

Several minutes later, Quinn heard footsteps in the hall outside. They stopped in front of the entrance to his room. For nearly thirty seconds, nothing happened. Then something was slipped under his door. Immediately Quinn could hear the footsteps receding down the hallway.

'Looks like I've just had a visitor, ' Quinn said.

'They're there now?' Orlando asked.

'No. But they left me something. '

He approached the door. On the floor was a manila envelope, not very thick. On the outside, in red, was a large X. Quinn shook his head. Sometimes he wondered if the people he worked with got their training out of Ian Fleming novels.

'They just came back out the elevator, ' Nate whispered. 'Could it hurt these guys to maybe smile a bit?'

'They're grabbing a cab, ' Orlando said in his ear.

'Did you get pictures?' Quinn asked.

'Of course. '

Quinn picked up the envelope and carried it back to a desk along the wall behind the couch. He used a letter opener from the desk drawer to slice open the top, then carefully slipped out the contents. Five pieces of paper. The top two were maps of Berlin; one focused on the Mitte, where the Dorint was located, and the other on the area known as Neukolln. One of the other pages was a wire-transfer confirmation of payment into one of Quinn's many accounts, something he had already confirmed on his own earlier that morning. Another was a detailed brief of the operation. The final page was a reduced-down copy of blueprints to a building. Presumably it was the location of the upcoming meeting.

Quinn skimmed through the documents until he found what he was looking for. 'Looks like Duke's found out more about that meeting. He thinks it's happening on Tuesday night. '

'Thinks?'

' "Meeting Tuesday night, ninety percent, '" Quinn read. 'In a building in Neukolln. ' 'Any ID on the players yet?' Orlando asked. 'Only a partial. RBO out of South Africa. But

even that's uncertain. ' 'Odd. '

'Yeah. I know. '

'Any mention of Borko?' Orlando asked.

Quinn scanned the brief. 'Nothing. '

'Maybe Piper's information was wrong. '

'Maybe, ' Quinn said, voice neutral. He read a little more to himself. 'Duke wants to do a drive-by with me this afternoon. '

'When?'

'In an hour. '

'Can I go back inside now?' she asked. 'I'm freezing my ass off out here. '

'Yeah. When you get to the suite, download the pictures, and e-mail them to me. I'd like to take a look at them before I meet Duke. '

'You don't want to come over to see them? Maybe bring me a king-size cup of coffee?'

Quinn smiled to himself. The cold Berlin winter seemed to be thawing Orlando out. 'Just e-mail them. Nate'll bring you a cup. '

'I hate you, ' she said.

'So you've told me before. '

Chapter 18

Duke arrived in front of the Dorint Hotel ten minutes late in a Mercedes C320 sedan. 'Quinn, so good to see you, ' Duke said as Quinn climbed in.

'You haven't changed at all, ' Quinn said, smiling. That was the truth, too. Duke had not lost a pound since the last time Quinn had worked with him.

Duke just laughed, then put the car into gear and pulled away from the curb. 'Any troubles?' he asked.

'No, ' Quinn said.

'Did you have to travel far?'

'How can you live in this kind of weather?' Quinn asked, ignoring the question. Once again Duke's laughter filled the car. Tuesday's meeting was apparently going to take

place in an old, unused waterworks building in the Neukolln district of Berlin. The building was on a cobbled street only a block long named Schandauer Strasse. The water plant was on the east side, in the middle of the block. Duke parked his Mercedes at the end of the street, then handed Quinn a pair

of compact binoculars so he could take a better look at the structure. 'Are there any guards?' Quinn asked before looking through the binoculars.

Duke smiled. 'One in front and one in back, ' he said. His accent seemed thicker than it had been two years before, sounding Czech or something similar. They were speaking in English. Quinn suspected it was actually Duke's native tongue. 'The one in front, he is usually sitting in car on street near gate. '

Quinn raised the binoculars to his eyes and took a look. Sure enough, there was a man sitting in a beat-up Volvo near the entrance to the water plant. It looked like he was reading a newspaper.

'No one inside?' Quinn asked. 'Not as far as I have been able to determine, ' Duke replied, then shrugged. 'But who knows?'

The property was surrounded by a six-foot-high wrought-iron fence. Duke told him the driveway gate was latched in the middle and swung inward rather than out. The building itself was four stories high, excluding an attic, and was taller than it was wide. The facade was a mix of dark red bricks and concrete. Spaced approximately every three feet were tall, narrow sets of windows that ran vertically up the side of the building. The windows were framed in blue-painted metal.

Duke told him when he got close enough he'd be able to see gouges in the exterior where bullets and shrapnel had struck the building in the last days before Berlin fell at the end of the Second World War.

'Don't let bricks fool you, ' Duke said. 'Underneath, concrete reinforced walls. Half a meter thick. '

'What's the layout?' Quinn asked. He'd studied the blueprints, but he was hoping Duke could give him a few more details.

Duke pointed across the street to the southwest corner of the building. 'There, ' he said. 'The entrance is just around that side. Inside, the front two thirds is open space that stops just below attic. Four stories high, approximately twenty meters long by twenty meters wide. '

'That's a lot of room. '

'Used to hold machinery, but it's all gone now, ' Duke told him. 'In back there is stairway along south side. On each floor are two rooms. A small room, six meters by eight meters. And a large room, ten meters by twenty. '

'Are they all in use?'

'I do not think so. Maybe just ones on first and second floors. ' Duke paused. 'Excuse me, I forget you are American. Second and third floors. '

In Europe, the ground floor was the ground floor and the first floor was one flight up. But Quinn had already made the adjustment. 'Is that it?' Quinn asked.

'Attic, ' Duke said. 'A large space. Goes over entire building. But my guess is it is empty, not being used. I would not advise going up there. I was inside building one time many years ago. But even then the floor of attic was quite unstable. If you fall through, it is long way down. '

'And the basement?' Quinn asked.

Duke shook his head. 'I never went down there, ' he said.

The blueprints had shown only a large open area in the basement. Nothing more. 'When can I get inside?'

'Tonight would be best, if you are ready. The closer we get to time of meet, the more difficult, I think. Yes?'

'Good, ' Quinn said. 'That's what I was thinking. How do I get in?'

Duke smiled, then reached into his pocket, a process that took a lot of effort. When he pulled his hand back out, he was holding a shiny silver key.

'For front door, ' Duke said. 'Lucky Berlin is my home now. I know everyone. ' Duke chuckled. 'Is your team in place?'

'Yes. '

'May I ask who they are?'

'I'll take that key now, ' Quinn said.

Duke handed the key to Quinn. 'How will you get around the guards without causing concern?' 'You don't need to worry about that. ' Quinn raised the binoculars to his eyes again and

took another look at the building. When he was through, he handed them back to Duke.

'You have seen enough?' Duke asked.

Quinn looked at the building a moment longer, then nodded. 'For now. '

Quinn had Duke drop him off in Charlottenburg on the pretense that he had a few things to pick up before visiting the water plant that evening.

Instead, he made his way to the U-bahn station and caught the U7 east. He got off at Berliner Strasse, checking as he did to see if anyone had decided to join him. No one had.

He switched to the U9, taking it north to Kurfürstendamm, where he got off in the same manner. Still there was no one suspicious. He went up to street level and inserted himself into the crowds on Ku'damm for nearly a half hour. He pretended to window-shop, all the while keeping an eye on his back trail. Finally, when he was confident he was alone, he caught a taxi back to the Mitte. He had the driver drop him off two blocks from the Four Seasons, then made the rest of the way to Orlando's suite on foot.

He let himself in with the key he'd kept. As he entered, Nate jumped up from the couch where he'd apparently been watching the TV. Immediately his apprentice grabbed the remote and turned the volume down. Orlando, on the other hand, was hunched over her computer, her attention firmly on the screen.

'How did it go?' she asked without looking up.

Quinn gave them a quick rundown.

'Still no direct connection to the disruption of the Office, though, ' he said. 'Did he have anything else?' Quinn shook his head. 'Not really. He said while

the Office was never mentioned by name, he felt certain it was what all the noise was about. He said he "had a feeling. '"

'No mention of Borko?' Nate asked.

'Nothing. I didn't ask either. Borko scares a lot of people, and I was afraid Duke might suddenly disappear on us. Like it or not, we need him right now. ' There was a bottle of water on the coffee table near Nate. Quinn pointed at it. 'You drinking that?'

Nate picked it up and tossed it to him.

'So what do you think?' she asked.

Quinn shrugged. 'It's probably better than an even chance this is a dead end. But we don't have much else to go on. ' He opened the bottle and took a sip. 'Learn anything?'

She hit a couple keys on the keyboard. 'Yes. But it's not what I was expecting. '

Quinn waited.

'Word is, the reason Borko was out of touch for the past month and a half was that he was recovering.'

'From what?'

'A bullet in the shoulder and another in his hip. He was doing a job for the Syrians. Apparently it didn't go well. '

'Who shot him?' Quinn asked.

'I don't know. But I do know it took place in Rome. Zeus was on cleanup. He said he barely had time to get Borko out of there before the local cops showed up. '

'You talked to Zeus?' 'Uh-huh. But that's all he'd give me, ' she said. 'He claimed he didn't know who Borko was meeting. '

'It was an exchange?' Quinn wandered over to the window and peered outside. Dark clouds were gathering over the city. Snow was forecast for later that evening. 'You sure it wasn't just an ordinary hit?'

'You mean with Borko as the target?'

'Him or his contact. ' 'Zeus said it was a straight exchange. He doesn't

know why it went bad. ' 'And Borko was working for the Syrians?' 'According to Zeus. ' Quinn looked back at Orlando. 'Do you believe

him?' She hesitated, then shook her head. 'What do you think happened?' he asked. 'Nothing.' 'Nothing?' 'I did a little more checking, ' Orlando said. 'There

are no police reports in Rome even hinting that something like what Zeus described went down that night. If the cops almost caught them, there should have been something. '

'You don't think the operation in Rome ever

happened.' 'No, ' she said. 'I don't. ' Quinn glanced back out the window. 'Interesting.

Other books

Johnny and the Bomb by Terry Pratchett
The Stranger by Albert Camus
Task Force Desperate by Peter Nealen
The Four Temperaments by Yona Zeldis McDonough
The Sultan's Bed by Laura Wright
If it is your life by Kelman, James
The Insect Farm by Stuart Prebble