Michael felt over the top with suspicion at this point. His first concern was the guy with the cane. It was becoming worrisome; he had turned up in too many places. Was this the man Annalise had referred to as a nosy neighbor? Also, however slight, Michael still a modicum of uncertainty about Sven. Michael knew, in the present situation, he was way out of his league. He required an extraordinary amount of trust when it came to sharing the details of his find. Sven could be an imposter; how the hell could he be sure? Here he was, following Sven like a lost child, trusting his judgment. Maybe Sven was in cahoots with the Irish and their customs agent would nab him in order to keep the cover in Ireland. Maybe, but not likely. When would he tell Sven about the man with the cane? Maybe they were on the same team. He had to get control of his paranoia. He was far away from his home turf and perhaps not totally rational.
Time and again, he observed Sven looking in his rear view mirror. Michael asked him if he had a particular concern.
“No one knows the specific details of our common interest. However, I have a significant reputation in these particular types of acquisitions. My sudden trip to a foreign shore is enough to arouse questions in certain quarters. It’s better to be safe. I have noticed nothing so far; however, I will remain vigilant. You might keep an eye open for any recurring faces. I have never had a problem in my twenty years doing this sort of thing, if that is any consolation.”
“I'll keep an eye out.”
Sven spoke in a reassuring tone. “There is always the unexpected. I have crossed these borders many times, but not with a discovery of this magnitude. I am using my usual connections at our border crossings. As luck would have it, we are not transporting anything bulky or large that commands extra scrutiny.”
“Sven, I must tell you of three situations that may or may not involve the reappearance of a certain gentleman.” Michael saw that Sven’s body language had assumed a new demeanor. “After I see your credentials, I will share the details.”
They stopped at a local museum. They browsed around for a little while, and upon returning to the car, Sven got out a map. He spread it out on the seat between them. Using the map as a ruse, he brought out documents and placed them on top of the map. He continued to point down as though he was referring to the map.
“Here is my current Swiss Attorney License and my diploma from the University of Genève. Also, my degree in advanced business law from the University of Freiburg; I graduated in 1974. I attended Eton for my primary education. I have brochures and the official recognition of both universities.
Sven continued, “These are articles depicting various people I have represented in the past.” He produced newspaper clippings with photos of himself with various clients. “These are some of the references from former and current clients.” The pictures depicted Sven with several curators and art appraisers. “I have made photocopies of my original driver’s license and passport.” He produced his original passport and international driver’s license for comparison.
The items assuaged Michael’s initial reservations, though there remained some doubt in his mind. The letters and pictures could be forged—easy to do in this day and age.
Sven continued, “There are phone numbers on the brochures. Or, if you wish, you are welcome to obtain the telephone numbers from an independent source. You will be able to verify my attendance at these colleges. We will return to the hotel in time for you to check these references. These are copies of honors I received while attending Freiburg University.”
Michael noted the awards were for excellence in international law.
“Let’s drive on to a small town for lunch. I’ll answer any questions you might have.”
“Good enough, Sven.”
“My goodness, you are monosyllabic.”
Michael just smiled and nodded. Sven’s comment made him feel more in charge. He wanted to remain in the driver’s seat as long as possible. Once they were on their way, he realized, Sven’s judgment and decision-making would prevail.
They lunched at an outdoor café. Sven continued to enlighten Michael. “I have never handled anything of this magnitude. Frankly, I don’t know anyone who has. There was an American soldier in WWII who returned to Texas with a similar ninth-century illustrated manuscript. He found it in a mineshaft, where the Germans had hidden it during the war. The manuscript made its way back to Switzerland for auction. This sale did not get the publicity this cover will command.”
“I’m somewhat familiar with the Quedlinburg case, Sven. It’s the reason we chose Switzerland as our liaison.”
Sven added, “My father was the lawyer who handled that case.”
Sven’s statement confirmed Michael’s theory. He hoped his body language appeared calm; on the inside, he was jubilant. He took a couple of lengthy, subtle breaths and proceeded. “Really? What a coincidence.” He had hoped against hope he would be dealing with the same family of lawyers. What good fortune! If this were true, he would be more than relieved—he would be ecstatic!
They returned to the car, and Sven produced a yellowed newspaper clipping. It was a picture of his father, followed by an article regarding the German manuscript. Michael recalled that if the Swiss lawyers had not come to an agreement with the Germans, it would have been transferred to Japan for auction. It had ended up in Germany where it belonged, in the hands of the church in Quedlinburg.
He needed to verify Sven’s claims. He would look up the particular article on the Internet, hoping the same picture would be there. It would have been difficult to forge a clipping that looked so old—or would it? He shuddered at his lack of knowledge in matters of forgery.
“Of note, Michael, I would prefer to bring you to Zurich before I take a look at the cover. I think that you would feel more comfortable presenting it in a secure, formal setting, with master appraisers present. I have learned enough from your New York associate to warrant my trip here. My mission is to escort you and the cover to Zurich. We must avoid an inadvertent discovery on our trip. God forbid some disreputable person is tracking you; my accompanying you could be of some deterrence against aggression.
“I appreciate your concern, Sven.”
“If you are in agreement, we will drive through France. I have Embassy contacts both here and in Roscoff, and I anticipate they will be of assistance at the border. We will stop in Pontarlier; it is the home of the infamous absinthe. Are you familiar with this infamous aperitif?”
“I remember hearing that it was quite deadly, and—isn’t it green?”
“Yes, although it may also be colorless. I doubt many Americans get the chance to see the actual production of absinthe. I will take you through their distillery.”
“Sounds like fun.”
“This will be one of our planned stops. Although, I must say, our plans could change on a dime. At that point, I will contact my office in Zurich; they will advise us regarding our crossing into Switzerland.”
“Changing the subject, I do have a question. Are you representing me, or are you an intermediary?”
“At this juncture, I will be representing you exclusively. If you choose our firm I will continue to represent only you for both the evaluation of the cover and proceeding on to the sale and final disposition. Your New York associate stated that you would be directing me with specific requests.”
“Yes, it is my hope and intention that the cover must end up reunited with its book at Trinity College in Ireland.”
“I think it would be best if we kept that wish confidential—if you wish to fetch top dollar.”
“I see what you mean. I must say, my present funds are limited. How are you reimbursed in this type of situation?”
“My services are free of charge until the cover is appraised. At that juncture, you will need to make a decision whether you wish to retain my firm. If you choose us, we will formalize that I am your sole representative. Ten percent will come off the top to my firm. It is similar to how a real estate agent works. I will
receive one and a half percent of that, and the firm will collect the remaining eight and a half percent. Our firm will cover all expenses for the promotion and storage of the cover, as well as employment of security personnel. You will incur no expenses until the item is sold and out of our hands. If you choose to not use our services, you will be billed for my services already incurred.”
“Sven, assuming this cover is authentic, and I have every reason to believe it is, have you any idea what it might fetch if it went to auction?”
“Marketing and publicity have a good deal to do with the participation of interested parties. I would think, at minimum, between sixty and seventy million American dollars. As you are aware, auctions are a strange entity; one can only estimate what the selling price would be. One hundred million is not out of the question. Although, if I understand you, an auction would not work, as Ireland is the intended recipient?”
“Yes, I was just curious. This information will be valuable in deciding my asking price. ”
“It is very exciting to find an ancient treasure that has been missing for one thousand years.”
Michael agreed, “Yes, it is. I do not want to gouge Ireland, but I want whatever is reasonable. First things first, though—the appraisals.”
Sven offered, “Because we already know Ireland will be the recipient, there is one scenario which may be the best answer.”
“Oh?”
“A private treaty offering. In that case, the commission for the sale would be five percent, as the expenses would be minimal.”
“I’ll digest this information as we travel along. We can discuss this in more detail in Zurich. I’m a little distracted, as I have never passed through a border check in a foreign country.”
Michael proceeded to tell Sven about the stranger who had appeared at the convent, the man inquiring about the property where the cover was hidden, and Annalise’s suspicion of the nosy neighbor. He described the tidbits regarding the physical appearance of each man in question: the cane, the limp, black hair, and the beard. He reminded Sven that the description of the hair and beard only pertained to the man in Slane. He explained that he was not comfortable questioning the sisters for any details of the man; he didn’t wish to raise any curiosity at the convent. Michael mentioned his intent to purchase the property as soon as he had confirmation of the cover’s authenticity.
After a few purchases at a high-end men’s store, they strolled down the street. Sven reassured Michael, “Border guards and security are interested in narcotics, illegal immigrants, and fringe groups of the IRA. Our body language, dress, and luggage are paramount, and we have that covered. As I said before, I have a connection at each end on this ferry line.”
Michael realized he would have some degree of angst for the duration of the trip; this was to be expected. The Franco-Swiss border seemed like a safer border situation. He didn’t want to share more details about the cover or the sister’s letter at this time. He needed time to think about the upcoming journey and a possible fallback plan. He had never been involved in an act that bordered on illegal. It became apparent he could not have made this trip alone. Thanks to Sara, he had an escort who was educated, multi-lingual, and connected. The proverbial “angel on his shoulder” continued to resonate in his head.
The day slipped by with banal conversation. He had purchased a classic trench coat and tweed cap along with a complete ensemble. He would place the cover in the suitcase for the ferry crossing, and the messenger bag would be perfect once they landed in France. Sara had already confirmed Sven’s legitimacy as far as education. He surfed the web and found identical pictures on the Quedlinburg site. The odds were good that Sven was exactly who he claimed to be.
Michael found a picture of Sven’s father. He noticed their surname was different. He sat for a while, sipping a sherry, and concluded the evening with a shower.
The following morning, the two men sat together at breakfast. Sven elaborated on the immediate issue—the customs officers at the Rosslare Ferry port. Contraband cigarettes and cannabis discoveries were mainly due to a Springer Spaniel named Max. The dog had become invaluable for his uncanny ability to sniff out hidden cannabis and the like. Risk profiling often led to searches of suspicious persons. The men remained relaxed; Michael noticed Sven discretely scanning the room at frequent intervals.
Michael did not want to know the details of Sven’s contacts. He suspected there was some sort of deal, perhaps with the government’s knowledge. On the other hand, there could be some cash changing hands. They split up for the rest of the day to avoid speculation, in case someone was following them. Michael was reluctant to wander very far. He sat on the verandah of the hotel and read about the French countryside and their intended travel route. He ate at the hotel.
He met Sven at the ferry dock just before eight forty-five p.m. There were many passengers present; the duo spoke briefly in an impersonal manner.
“We will board the ferry at twenty-one hundred hours. That is about fifteen minutes from now. You will board directly behind me; after customs, head for your cabin. Do not leave the cabin or answer the door. I am next door in cabin twelve.”
Michael put on his new raincoat and adjusted his bag; he held his suitcase in his right hand. For this leg of the trip, the cover was in the false back of his suitcase.
“I will call you in the morning just before we land. This evening we will dine separately but within eye contact. Make sure these cells are charged.” Sven handed Michael two small cell phones. “Put one in your shoulder bag and the other in your inside pocket. I have programmed my phone number under the name George. There are other numbers under the name Sally and Judy. The female names will connect you to my office. If you need to contact the office, they are alerted to your name and will contact me right away, day or night. Feel free to enter your American contact’s number. These phones will work worldwide. There is a charger and an emergency battery attachment for extra minutes. The phones are prepaid. The second throw-away phone is for backup. Keep it on your person at all times. I do not expect us to be apart, however, I want to plan for all situations.” Sven’s tone had become more clipped and methodical—if that were possible.
The passenger queue for the ferry was modest and moved along without a hitch. As they entered the customs area, Michael observed passengers filing past the officer. Most folks were asked a few questions. Sven was just ahead of Michael; he watched Sven open his passport. The officer went to the front page and then to back page and nodded. That was it. Michael was next; he opened his shoulder bag and presented his passport. It was scanned, but the officer did not speak with him or make eye contact. After observing the inspector’s scrutiny of the passengers in line ahead, he was prepared to answer some questions. The officer’s indifference to Michael made him think he and Sven were somehow protected from any serious scrutiny.
They were travelling on an upscale ferry named the Oscar Wilde. The suites were spacious and elegant; the dining areas were luxurious. Both Sven and Michael personified distinguished business travelers. Things had started on a good foot, organized and positive. He enjoyed portraying a “man of means.” He proceeded to his cabin and settled in. He sat for a few minutes getting his bearings. Sven’s cabin was to his left. There was no cabin to the right; it was a stairwell. He had heard the Irish Sea was one of the most treacherous in the world. It was notorious for bringing on seasickness. Sven had given him a motion sickness patch. The fortuitous side effect of the patch was Michael’s sound sleep.
CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
Morning arrived with the unfamiliar sounds of a large seagoing vessel. There was a remote clanking and groaning of metal against metal and the distant sounds of people in the corridor. He dressed and waited for Sven’s call. The phone rang, and Michael responded to Sven’s signal rap on the door. They made their way to the deck. It was a beautiful day; the sea was calm, and the air was invigorating. As they leaned over the railing, Sven informed Michael that he ha
d seen nothing suspicious. Sitting at different tables for breakfast, Michael was optimistic, at least for the time being. They met at Michael’s cabin and played gin rummy for a few hours. After enjoying a leisurely lunch, Michael strolled around the deck. Sven remained aloof, yet close by. The ship arrived in France on time. Again, all went well during the customs check upon disembarking. The men checked in separately at the same B&B, paying cash in advance for one night. It was in the downtown area of Roscoff.
Roscoff was a lively town; the Isle of de Batz protected its shores from the harsh sea. The architecture was predominately sixteenth century, and the main artery was named the Rue Gambetta.
Plans for the next day were discussed in Michael’s room. The desk clerk had been talkative; without hesitation, he had told Sven there were no other new travelers arriving today and none were booked for the following day.
Michael was to keep his eyes open and stay on the busy streets. He found an Internet café and emailed Sara.
Dinner was exceptional; Michael took Sven’s advice and ordered seafood. There was something about the French sauces that tempted him to lick the plate. Sven suggested that France’s superb dairy products were part of the equation. They ambled back along Rue Gambetta and turned in for the night.
The next day began with melt-in-the-mouth croissants, homemade jam, and coffee. Michael decided he was in no hurry to leave this country. It was culinary heaven.
Sven possessed good taste and indulged in the finest of everything. He rented a luxurious grey Mercedes sedan, and their journey began later that morning. They avoided Paris and lunched in LeMans.
On the second night, they moved on to Beaune. After a short stroll, Sven mentioned, “I am taking this journey at a slow pace; I want to be sure no one is following us. It will be a relief to have your possession in a Swiss vault.”