The Legacy: A Kimberly & Sykes Mystery Novel (5 page)

The Bermannus Club, established in 1822, was named after Georgius Agricola’s ‘
Bermannus; or a dialogue on metallurgy’
published in 1530. Anyone worth his salt in mining had studied the father of mineralogy, Agricola, at some point or the other. Back in 1822, the most successful of them had established
The Bermannus
in his honor. Once a male bastion, the club had admitted women long before any of the other prestigious men’s clubs and, Frank Daniels had voted in favor.

Daniels parked close to the entrance. It was too awkward to walk right in, and from his vantage point, he could see the activity inside through the etched glass panel that filled the top half of the door. Seeing his chance, Daniels quickly strode the few feet across the parking lot and slipped in unnoticed. He was pleased to see the back of the club manager heading in the other direction guiding a member to the sitting room. It was getting tricky avoiding the subtle demands for payment of his dues. It was only a matter of time before Daniels would be barred from entering the club until his bill was paid. Daniels gave a crooked smile; in another few days he wouldn’t have to worry about it again.

Daniels knew he would never have been accepted as a member of the club in its early days because he wasn’t involved with mining. Fortunately, that became less of a requirement in the 20
th
century. Anyone even remotely connected with mining and geology was welcomed. As long as they could pay the exorbitant fees. Daniels chuckled as he thought about the future. One day he would buy this club and then they would grovel before him. But, for tonight, he only needed to get passed the manager.

The money and prestige that came with being rich attracted Daniels to take a membership. The fact that there were some very wealthy women members added to the attraction. He never did business at the club. He liked to keep his business dealings as private as his personal life, and, at the club, there were too many people paying too much attention and coming up with too many correct assumptions for his liking.

No, Frank Daniels liked to be seen with the high flyers, but he kept his dealings close to his chest. In the last year it had been the only thing that saved him from ruin.

Daniels ordered fillet mignon, new potatoes and roasted kale heads, and savored a glass of Inglenook Rubicon 2009. To hell with the cost. The intensity of this Californian Bordeaux was just what Daniels needed to match his own intensity after this evening’s performance. Not only did Daniels have to keep up appearances, he bloody well loved good food and wine and he wasn’t going to stop consuming them just because he was temporarily broke.

Daniels let the evenings events run through his mind. He knew he shouldn’t have stormed out of the room like that, and more to the point, he wondered if anyone really did suspect Mike Kimberly didn’t kill himself. Probably just another of Hart’s usual fishing expeditions. Hart could be relentless: he could sniff out a chocolate chip in a landfill if you gave him the chance. Mike Kimberly was dead, and all Daniels had to do for another few days was keep everyone focused on finding the analyzer. And the diamonds.

Daniels smiled, contemplating what the diamonds could buy. He would never be broke again with that amount of money in his hands. He could pay his dues in advance, even if he no longer frequented the club. It would show them how foolish they were to hound him for a few thousand dollars.

The arrival of his meal brought Daniels out of his pleasant reflection and he attacked his food with gusto. After he cleared his plate, Daniels asked for the bottle of wine to be placed in the reading room next to the fire. It was far too early to head out, and besides, Rubicon was far too good to leave for the staff to finish off. As the waiter placed the wine on a silver tray and left to do his bidding, Daniels went to one of the private phone booths to make a call. Even the phone booths at The Bermannus were luxurious and comfortable. Though called ‘phone booths’, they bore no resemblance to the small cubicles of the 19
th
and 20
th
century. Each room was ten feet square with polished wood floors, India rugs, a writing desk - complete with pen and paper for the old fashioned, and a laptop with high speed internet for the rest. The phone, while reminiscent of the old dial phone, was a sophisticated modern replica equipped with scrambling service. Fortunes had been won and lost on these phones and secrecy was paramount.

Sitting in the Queen Anne armchair, Daniels wished he had thought to bring a glass of wine with him. Hopefully the call would go quickly and he would be back with his bottle in front of the fire in no time.

Dialing the number from memory, Daniels heard the familiar mechanical sound of the scrambling service activate. The phone was answered immediately.

“It’s Daniels.” Though there was no response, Daniels knew who was listening at the other end of the line. “We’ve got Kimberly’s girl looking for the analyzer and the diamonds. She’s been given a week.” Daniels waited. He was feeling particularly belligerent after being told off by Hart and felt irked talking to thin air. “Would it be so difficult to just acknowledge that you are there! I don’t know why I bother giving you these blasted updates!” Daniels regretted his outbursts the second he heard the guttural accent.

“Ah, but you do Mr. Daniels. Indeed, you do. We expected more from you. A week is not enough time. It will be very difficult to meet that deadline. We need at least another two weeks. Make it happen!.”

Daniels felt a cold sweat running down his spine. He had been providing updates every day, and this was the first time Ivan Volkov had responded. Daniels’ fear was palpable. His hand trembled and his throat was so dry he had to swallow several times to make his vocal cords work.

His false bravado caved in a flash. “Mr. Volkov. I apologize. I…we had a very tense meeting and people are questioning whether Kimberly killed himself and-”

“And I don’t care! You disgust me Daniels. You better pray that we have enough time.”

The line went dead. The phone still to his ear, Daniels heard the click of the scrambler disconnecting. With a shaking hand, he dropped the receiver back in the cradle. Daniels had not expected to hear the heavy Eastern European voice. No matter how much he pretended to be in control, the only thing he feared was the Limousine Man - Ivan Volkov. Daniels needed a drink, something much stronger than his wine. Pushing himself up from the plush seat, he walked slowly to the reading room to order a double scotch which he downed in one gulp and immediately ordered another.

Sitting back in the leather chair Daniels mind was bombarded with memories of his first meeting with Volkov.

Daniels refused to admit he was addicted to gambling even when his losses hit five million dollars. His wife left with their two kids the day the bailiffs came to repossess his BMW Zagato and her Alpha Coupe.

With his family gone, Daniels’ only thought was he now had more time to do what he loved - playing poker. He worked his way into most of the high hand poker games trying to recoup his losses but, two years later, though he still had the house; it contained only a single bed and a few kitchen necessities. Everything had been repossessed, or sold to fund his habit and the expensive facade he was determined to maintain.

It wasn’t until he was woken up by two men and dragged from bed one night that Daniels finally realized he was in a dire situation. The two men didn’t even let him put clothes on. Naked, he was dragged kicking, though he stopped screaming as they pulled him out the front door because he didn’t want to alert the neighbors to his demise: things were bad enough without being seen dragged naked in the street. Thrown into the back of a filthy van, he swore and shouted at the two silent men until he found himself dumped unceremoniously in a parking lot by the docklands.

Shivering, afraid, wet and stinking, having peed over himself, he was sure he was about to die. He lay on the cold wet ground shaking and trying to shield his private parts from the men. They laughed at him and reached into their pockets -Daniels, convinced he was going to be shot, started praying. Instead of a cocking gun, he heard the unmistakable sound of two lighters as both men lit their cigarettes.  The men continued to laugh as he lay shivering.

“Why are you doing this to me? Who are you? What do you want?” His questions went unanswered.  Shortly thereafter, a black limousine pulled alongside. The men moved away a short distance but remained watchful.

The back passenger window opened noiselessly and Daniels pulled himself up to a sitting position. In fear, Daniels sobbed and begged for his life. To his shame and horror, he felt his bowels empty.

“I always knew you were full of shit. Is this what you have come to Daniels?”

Daniels didn’t recognize the voice. He reached for the door handle to pull himself up from the ground but dropped back down as the two thugs started forward. They retreated. Daniels was aware of how pathetic he looked and he felt ashamed and disgusted with himself as the smell from his own feces and piss hit his nostrils.

“Who are you, what do you want from me!” he cried.

Laughter came from within the limousine. “Forever a comedian eh! Daniels? I own you. I bought your gambling debt.”

“What? How? I told Romero I would have the money soon.”

“You are very fortunate Daniels. Romero was going to get rid of you. He wanted to send a message that non-payment of debts would not be tolerated. Fortunately for you, I have plans for you Frankie, you are still alive. I own you and you now owe me.” The man in the limousine gave a harsh laugh.

“He can’t do that! We have an agreement!”

“Shut Up! I make the agreements now. Count yourself lucky Mr. Daniels. I am going to let you off lightly, and it won’t even cost you five million. I have a task for you.”

“What task? What could you possibly want from me?” Daniels was so cold his face was numb and his words slurred.

“Your company is about to embark on a project. You are going to hire some genius to make you a diamond analyzer. When it’s done, it’s mine. And you are going to give it to me.”

“But…but we have only discussed the possibility of an analyzer, how could you possibly know this? We don’t even know if it can be done! It could be years before we have a working prototype.”

The man laughed and snapped his fingers. The two men swiftly approached Daniels and attacked him with blows and kicks. Screaming in pain, tears, and snot streaming down his face, Daniels curled in a ball trying to shield himself. The men were careful to stay away from his lower body to avoid contact with his feces covered extremities and didn’t stop their assault until he screamed, “OK, OK, it’s yours, please…. please…. don’t hurt me anymore.”

“Now, why did you make me do that to you Mr. Daniels? The next time I tell you to do something, do as you are told and we won’t have to resort to this ungentlemanly display of violence.” With a wicked smile, the limousine man retreated into his seat and the limousine sped away.

Daniels was grabbed unceremoniously by the arms and dragged back to the van. Thrown onto a plastic sheet, he lay on the cold floor, sickened by his own smell. Curling into the fetal position, he cried.

A lot had happened since then.

Lauren’s was having trouble focusing, her mind was spinning. Sykes’ behavior in the meeting had unruffled her. One minute he was solicitous to her, the next he seemed to agree when they called her father a thief. Who was he? Not the chauffeur, she thought, of that, she was certain.

“Who are you?”

Sykes looked to the meeting room before answering, as if making sure the door was closed.

“Security. I’m the head of Security.” 

Lauren’s eyes opened wide and her mouth opened forming a perfect circular shape. “And
you
also think my dad’s a thief?”

“Lauren, Mike told the board that he was just a few days away from having a fully operational analyzer. One minute we are talking about an idea- a prototype that may or may not pan out. The next... well, he stops talking about a prototype and starts talking about a working analyzer. He asked for a selection of high-grade diamonds to run the final tests. Daniels gave him fifteen million dollars worth of diamonds. Three days later your father was dead and the diamonds and analyzer nowhere to be seen. Where are they? Who did he give them to? Why can’t we fine them?”

“And you all think he gave them to me?”

A vivid pink blush peeked out of the top of Sykes’ shirt collar. He put his hand to his neck and massaged it a couple of times, loosened his tie and opened the top button of his shirt.

His voice thick with emotion, Sykes spoke slowly and deliberately. “I don’t think anything. I operate purely on the facts. The sooner we find them, the sooner this is over. You’ll have your reward and you can get on with your life.”

“Is no one listening to me? I don’t know where they are! I’ve said this at least ten times already!”

“I can tell you with certainty they were not at your father’s apartment because I searched that myself. So the question is, if not there, then where? Someone knows where they are. And we need to find them.” Sykes walked past the limousine to the black Audi TT parked at the end of the luxury cars. Opening the passenger door he stood aside for Lauren.

Lauren hesitated, then, with some reluctance, she bent low, sat on the seat, swung her legs in and dropped her purse on the floor. She put her seat belt on while Sykes closed the door and walked around the front of the car. In a few seconds he was strapped in behind the wheel.

“This is your car?”

Sykes nodded. Lauren put her head back against the seat rest and closed her eyes. She needed to think. She felt perplexed at the assumption that she knew the whereabouts of the missing prototype and diamonds. If she showed Sykes what she did have of her father’s belongings, then maybe he would understand. This was just a big misunderstanding. What else could it possibly be? Lauren nestled herself down into the soft leather seat as Sykes started the car. The engine hummed into life and she the car surge forward as Sykes engaged gear.

In the ride down the car elevator Lauren looked at Sykes out of the corner of her eye, conscious she found him attractive. His skin could benefit from regular moisturizer but Lauren had never come across a man comfortable using it. For some reason men thought they didn’t need to moisturize and protect their skin and Sykes appeared to be no different. Her eyes traced his profile and she noticed the beginning of evening stubble on his cheek. She looked away when Sykes caught her looking at him.

“If you are head of security how come you let my father take the diamonds? Surely you checked him out before hiring him? I don’t want to keep harping on about this but my brain just can’t get around how those guys trusted him with this major contract and gave him millions of dollars worth of diamonds. If this wasn’t so serious I would be laughing.”

Sykes drove out of the elevator and through the open parking lot barrier into the street. 

“I wasn’t involved in your father’s hiring. I was out of the country at one of our sites. The first thing I did when I came back was do some checking on him. He was legit. You may not have been aware of it, but, the truth is, your father had been working on some major industrial projects and was highly skilled at what he did. One day though, he took off. Nobody knew where he was. He returned a couple of hours later and said he had gone for a drive to clear his thoughts. After that, I kept my eye on him for a while. He had gone to your place, at least that’s what I think he had done because he did it two more times, a couple of hours each time. He drove to your building and sat in his car outside. You may have had nothing to do with him but your father certainly had you very much on his mind.” 

“He came to see me?” Lauren said whipping her head around. “When? Why didn’t he come in? Why didn’t he call me?” The questions tumbled out of Lauren’s mouth.

“I have no idea. I did some checking to see what his interest in the building could be, and I came up with your name. I figured he was checking up on you, or keeping an eye on you. Only he could have answered your questions I’m afraid.” 

The remainder of the return trip to Lauren’s apartment passed in silence, Lauren and Sykes lost in their own thoughts. In no time at all, Sykes parallel parked in a small space close to her apartment building.

Lauren got out of the car and slowly made her way to her building. Behind her, she heard the driver’s door close and the unmistakable beep of the alarm activate. She couldn’t hear Sykes’ steps on the hard sidewalk but knew instinctively he was behind her. Opening the door she walked with heavy steps to the elevator, leaning against the wall until it arrived. When the doors opened, Lauren and Sykes stepped in together. She was so tired she wanted to fall asleep standing up against the wall. Sykes propped himself in the far corner as they rode up to her floor. Lauren could sense he was watching her yet she didn’t care. A big sigh escaped her lips.

“Lauren, I was simply following your father to make sure he was safe. I needed to make sure he wasn’t having clandestine meetings with our competitors. I had to make sure that our interests were safe. When it became evident he was a dad watching his kid, I backed off.”

Lauren refused to engage. She wanted to switch off her brain and have this bizarre series of events over. When she got to her apartment she went straight to the kitchen and took a bottle of Pinot Grigio from the small wine fridge, leaving Sykes to close the door. To hell with watching how much she drank, right now she needed a drink. Ignoring Sykes’, she removed the cork and walked, bottle in hand, to the living room where she took one of her favorite Waterford crystal wine glasses from the china cabinet. It was only after savoring her first taste that she turned to Sykes.

He was standing by the door with his hands in his pocket. Lauren closed her eyes and shook her head, willing for him to disappear. When she opened her eyes he was still there, his head tipped to the side and his right eyebrow arched, watching her.

Lauren switched on the table lamp, and sat down. A muscle twitched in the corner of her eyelid and her ears were filled with the sound of her blood pumping through her veins. Taking a handful of tissues from the box on the coffee table Lauren wiped her eyes. The tissues were stained with black mascara.

“Look Ms. Kimberly…”

“Lauren,” she said dully. “My clients call me Ms. Kimberly. Just ‘Lauren.’ Please.”

“Lauren, I know this has hit you suddenly, but this is very serious business you are tied up in. My employers don’t fool around.” Sykes sat in the armchair and leaned forward. “Your father was a very skilled man and in high demand. The analyzer that he designed can do things that have never been done before. Even the concept was considered foolish thinking. Do you know how much mining companies spend before they start to dig a mine? Want to hazard a guess? Earlier, when St. John said it was in the millions, he wasn’t kidding. To get an edge on what the core sample reveals means the difference between making billions of dollars in profit and making nothing, not even cost recovery. Your father’s analyzer does that. We have to find it.”

Lauren groaned and dropped her face in her hands.

“You must know something. Think…anything at all could be important. Trust me; I don’t want to be here anymore than you want me here. This is not what I signed up for.”

“Ha! A thug with a conscience!” Lauren mumbled with her head still cradled in her hands.

“Tsk! Not everything is what it seems to be Lauren,” Sykes snapped back.

“Right! And any moment now you are going to tell me ‘your employers’ are really nice and didn’t really threaten me! I can’t believe my father used to park outside. I wish he would have knocked on the door and come in, and, I can’t believe you were following him and watching my apartment. That’s creepy and invasive,”

Lauren’s eyes were blazing as she wished she could vaporise Sykes and pretend the last few hours had not happened. Sykes confused her. One minute he seemed to be understanding and compassionate, the next he was heavy handed and dismissive. Sykes was right in one view: the only way for this nightmare to end was to find the analyzer and diamonds.

‘This really does feel like a dream, or one of those awful soap operas on TV. Yet, how did I get to play a leading role?’ she asked herself. The wine was helping her calm down and Lauren got up and walked to the window. She peered through the blinds trying to picture her father parked on the street below. She gasped, her heart caught in her chest as she realized someone was sitting in a parked car. A small flash of light caught her eye as she peered through the darkness. There it was again, a momentary burst of light. The person was smoking.

“Am
I
being followed now!” she turned angrily towards Sykes.

Sykes’ forehead crunched in a frown. “Why would we be following you?”

“Someone is smoking in a car parked outside my apartment. Don’t tell me that’s just a coincidence!”

In three strides Sykes was at her side. He clutched her arm and pulled her roughly back from the window.

“Ow!” She cried, wrenching her arm from his grasp. Lauren looked in dismay at the wine spilled down the front of her white blouse. Not again! she thought. Ready to complain, the words stuck in her throat when she saw Sykes peeking outside through a crack in the blinds.

“He’s not one of ours. I haven’t assigned anyone to watch you. It’s probably coincidence…some guy lost his key and is waiting for his wife to get home and let him in.” Sykes took one last look and moved away from the window.

Lauren was not convinced. She was a firm believer that there was no such thing as coincidence. Her predicament was sinking in. Her heart fluttered in anxiety and her body gave an involuntary shiver. “I’ll show you everything I have of my father’s. Maybe you can find something that I didn’t. It’s all in the den. You can get started, I need to change first,” she said pointing disdainfully to her wine-soaked blouse.