“You bet!”
Michael could tell that Adam was dying of curiosity, but the bartender was a good enough friend not to pry further.
The conversation was interrupted as Joey challenged Michael to a game of pool. When they finished, Joey grinned from ear to ear. He had beaten Michael three games in a row! Dear Joey—he was a joy, in an uncomplicated way.
CHAPTER TWENTY
When Michael arrived, Sara was busy on the computer. He voiced his latest concern: “Do we have any idea how to get a bank account in Switzerland?”
“It entails giving proper ID and a social security number. All deposited funds are reported to the States. An American is able open up a Swiss bank account and safety deposit box online. Hard to believe! There are companies that will assist you. You can also wait until you’re over there. It shouldn’t take more than three hours. I think if this all happens, you would have a Zurich lawyer assisting you with the bank set-up. Also, there is no limit to the amount you can deposit.”
“Perhaps I’ll wait to see if it’s necessary.”
“It’s curious—Switzerland is not part of the EU. They continue to remain neutral, just as they did in both wars.”
“No wonder—they’re landlocked and depend on all neighboring countries. A clever move on their part. They have been able to stash valuables and deposits from both sides of the fence. I would love to have been a fly on the wall during some of the vault deposits throughout the World War II. The story goes that the Nazis stored priceless paintings and gold in Zurich. In fact, aren’t they still discovering artifacts?”
“Yes, but they’re not as secretive as they were back then. By the way, I have a few more details on the Quedlinburg Manuscript. There was a finder’s fee in that case.”
“A finder’s fee?”
“During the war, the Germans hid the manuscript in a cave; it was the property of a German church. The information I found in that article makes our project even more believable. I think we would be forced to be more public about this if we weren’t in the Internet age, where so much information is available from your living room”
“Tell me more.”
“In that case, the finder remained anonymous. As I said, it was an American soldier who discovered the manuscript. He smuggled it into the States, and the only way this guy would part with it was to receive millions. To get around the fact it was stolen, Germany negotiated a finder’s fee in order to settle the deal.”
“If I do find this cover, I wouldn’t consider myself as having stolen it. It was so long ago, and I have the letters to tell this story.”
Sara continued, “Having the cover on Swiss soil has its advantages. There would be more anonymity, and, perhaps, it is the best country to bargain with Ireland.”
“I agree. The negotiations will not be much of a chess game since I have already decided on its final destination.
“I imagine someone will benefit financially; it might as well be you, Michael.”
“It sounds greedy, but I hear you. This world is all about money, and there are tons of unscrupulous people out there. My wish is to distribute the money with integrity. I do feel I am as good a bet as anyone. Let’s make a pact to keep each other on the straight and narrow.”
“Of course, Michael!” Sarah smiled. “I’ll continue to research names of international lawyers and art appraisers. This German manuscript story is fascinating. Apparently, if there hadn’t been an adequate finder’s fee offered, the manuscript would have been sold to Japan. Can you imagine? I have printed out this Quedlinburg article along with an abbreviated description of the beginnings of Christianity in Scotland and Ireland. I thought it would give you a general idea of the period in which the book was written.”
There was a protracted silence as Sara continued her search. Michael used the interlude to scan the articles. “I can’t believe the parallels to our situation; the German manuscript was scribed around the same time as the Book of Kells. I guess the quality of the German copy is not in the same league as the Irish manuscript.” Michael continued, “The Irish monks began their great labor of copying all of Western literature.”
Sara interjected, “I love St. Patrick’s history. First off, there are no snakes in Ireland. The folklore depicted the pagans as snakes. I wonder how many know that St. Patrick was born into a Roman family. He converted to Christianity after being kidnapped. When he described the Holy Trinity to the pagans, he used the three-leafed clover as a symbol.”
Michael quipped, “Good old St. Patrick won them over. Snakes sound more exciting than pagans. It is interesting that Rome never canonized Patrick as a Saint. It was before formal canonization began. March seventeenth was the day he died.”
Sara added, “This is where the Book of Kells comes into play. Patrick’s successor was St. Columba, and he may have been the one who started the four Gospels in Iona, although, the scribing appears to be the type used after his death.
“Interesting.”
“There is a main thread of similarity with a few twists involving the last missing chapters. Anyway, St. Patrick did set up monasteries in Ireland. The book was kept in the church priory in Kells, Ireland, for years. When it was stolen, after that brief spell in a ditch, the book finally made its way to Dublin’s Trinity College for safe keeping.”
“Did you say the book is on display?”
“Yes, a few pages each day, with at least one page illustrating the famous calligraphy.”
“Well, Sara, it looks like Sister Abbey’s account was valid.”
“Oh, yes. I also have additional research on the best way to travel from Ireland to Switzerland. There is an overnight ferry to France, and then you can use trains to get to Zurich. This way, you can avoid the airport scrutiny. It’s somewhat under the radar.
“You will need proper clothing and a backpack or suitcase to conceal the cover. We need to consider the largest possible dimensions of the cover.”
“Is there a reference to the size of the book?”
“The largest measurements would be about thirteen by nine and a half inches; I’d estimate about two inches larger for the cover. I’m thinking a messenger bag would be great.
“I had no idea Switzerland wasn’t a member of the EU. Also, Ireland uses the Euro, so you’ll need two different currencies.” Sara continued, “It appears that Swiss banks do not charge income tax on a person’s account unless they invest in a Swiss-based company.”
“Hmm, I wonder how that will work out in this case.”
“There will always be hiccups; it seems funny to be planning as if this caper were a fait accompli.” Sara leaned towards the computer screen and started typing again. “I think I’d like to find a surveyor’s map of the Slane area.”
Michael got up, “Ok. You continue with that.” He heaved a sigh, “I guess the only other thing we need is the name of a possible contact. I’m going down to help Danny with some stuff.” He found himself looking forward to their farewell hug. They embraced as usual, yet he sensed Sara was preoccupied with the research on the cover. “See ya later.”
Sara was staring intently at the screen. “Good bye, Michael. I’ll let you know what I find out.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
The days grew colder; Michael continued his daytime routine. He did a few minor repairs for the sisters and continued to experience some degree of guilt about keeping the discovery a secret. He reassured himself as he re-read Sister Abreanne’s request. He knew that if he did find the cover, the convent would receive a substantial anonymous gift.
It was decided that he would purchase a suitcase with a hard shell. It was all about finding luggage that would conceal the cover. Clothing for Ireland would be mostly “tweedy” things and waterproof boots. If Switzerland was included, he wanted to have an “English gentleman” appearance—understated, but good quality. His appearance and presentation would be meaningful during negotiations. They priced out his clothing for the initial leg of the journey. Fi
ve to six hundred dollars would do it.
*******
One Sunday morning, they decided to make an adventure researching Michael’s wardrobe in case he continued on to Switzerland. They cruised the shops on Fifth Avenue. Michael felt a little out of place; nonetheless, the experience was fun. He was now confident about his clothing style.
He had converted six thousand dollars into traveler’s checks and had decided to prepay the last four thousand on two separate credit cards. Things were coming together.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
As Christmas drew near, Michael and Sara enjoyed their annual carriage ride in Central Park. They discussed Mrs. De’s prospective sale. Two couples had expressed some interest, but neither appeared promising.
This Christmas would be Michael’s best since his arrival in New York. He felt at home in his neighborhood. He enjoyed helping the sisters decorate the church. His special connection with Sara and Danny was the highlight, and his pals at the bar helped to round out the festive season.
He surprised Sara with an extra trip to Manhattan. They took in the Christmas storefronts and the Rockefeller Tree. He made reservations at the Blue Water Restaurant in Union Square. It was a picture-book perfect evening, enhanced by a rare soft snowfall. The flakes were lazy and big. They could detect the intricate pattern of each flake as it moseyed downward. A few fell on Sara‘s face, and she giggled as she brushed them away. He would cherish this evening. It was all about fresh memories to replenish his solitary heart.
On Christmas Eve, Michael delivered Joey’s necklace to him and treated him to lunch at a local deli. Joey mentioned he had a couple of new pals. This was news to Michael, and it concerned him. Why were they not joining him at Mel’s? He would ask Adam if he knew anything about these guys. The hairs on the back of his neck signaled something wasn’t right.
Later that evening, Sara, Danny, and Michael headed out for a traditional Christmas Eve dinner. To say it was a feast for a king was an understatement.
Afterwards, they went to Christmas Mass. The glow from the candles and a faint, sweet smell of incense filled the church with reverence. It was snowing when they left. They laughed as they each tried to catch a snowflake on their tongues. As Michael exhaled the crisp air, he felt it symbolized a moment of liberation. Tomorrow was not a new chapter; it was book number two in the life of Michael Evans.
As they reached Danny and Sara’s building, Sara said, “Do come up for a minute, Michael. I have a little something for you.”
Danny took the hint. “I’ll be up in a minute. I need to check the shop.”
The cat met Michael at the door. “I see she feels at home now,” he observed.
Sarah laughed, “Yes, she’s our official greeter.” She retrieved a little package wrapped in bright red with holly trim and a card. “It’s just a little something for your trip.”
He could feel himself seizing up inside. He opened up the card, apprehensive about what would the card say, or not say, for that matter. It was an old- fashioned card, a horse and buggy scene. On the inside she had written “My dear Michael, I wish you the best in the coming year.” It was signed, “Thanks for sharing your journey! Sara.”
He was touched and relieved; he was very much in conflict about his emotions regarding Sara. It was not that he did not desire attachment; it was all about the past and his fear of getting close and then ... possible loss. He proceeded to open the gift. It was a brushed silver Celtic cross on a black leather necklace.
“Sara, this is perfect!” It was a simple and elegant piece. He smiled and moved closer, giving her a hug. He detected the familiar scent of her powder; it stirred his senses, and he found himself lingering in their embrace. For the first time in years, he felt a twinge of arousal. Again, he was torn between desire and apprehension, rolled into one. He moved away, retrieving a little gift and card from his backpack. He handed her the card. “Merry Christmas to my best friend.”
She opened it. “This is such a pretty card.” Then she opened the package, appearing to savor the moment. A silver charm bracelet with several Irish charms gleamed in the black velvet box. “The Celtic Cross, the clover, and an Irish knot—I shall wear it for good luck.”
“I plan to bring back a few more, right from the source.” He sat back down. The cat suddenly appeared and jumped on his lap. This is as good as it gets, he thought. However, he felt a little anxious; he supposed it stemmed from the feelings he had for Sara, feelings he was not prepared to process. Releasing control over his emotions was like diving into deep, uncharted waters—heart pounding, but exhilarating.
“Sara, I want you to know this is the best Christmas I’ve had in a long time.”
Sara laughed, “I feel the same Michael.”
Michael smiled and thought to himself how pretty she was when she laughed. It was, indeed, a good Christmas.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
Not too long after Christmas, Adam related some upsetting news about Joey. Apparently, his newfound pals were thugs; they had exploited his naïveté and involved him in a drugstore holdup. He was the stooge for the heist. Somehow the thugs convinced Joey to carry on a conversation with the only other clerk in the store. He was supposed to ask about the best razor to buy. They had made a bet with him that he could not keep her in conversation for more than ten minutes. He had no idea what his “pals” were up to at the rear of the store. However, the pharmacist had been prepared for such an event, and pointed a sawed-off shotgun at their heads until the police arrived. Joey’s sister was mortified.
Joey was out on bail. The judge could see he was mentally challenged and had been used as a subterfuge in their scheme. It was obvious to everyone he was a naïve, sweet kid. Michael, Joey’s sister, Father Murphy, and the sisters showed up for the hearing. The judge would hand down Joey’s sentence in a separate hearing. Luckily, Joey would be tried separately. The lawyer was pro bono, and all things considered, Joey’s case looked promising. The final decision would be in a couple of months or more. Joey just sat there looking at the floor. He was aware he had been betrayed. He did not make eye contact with his sister or any of his supporters. The church put up the bail for him, and Adam and the guys at the bar tried to lift his spirits.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
January and February dragged on. Winter was dressed in many shades of dreary with an occasional sunny surprise. Michael finished his work in Mrs. De’s apartment; it looked much more up to date. He was pleased with the outcome.
The cold, monotonous days passed, and final preparations were being made. Late spring would be departure time. His clothes were purchased, and the credit cards were in order. The ticket would not be purchased until a firm date was decided. Michael continued his routine in neighborhood.
They decided on two hiding places for the cover. The suitcase was purchased, and they dismantled the inside cloth lining. It had crisscross straps that kept the clothing in place, and these were moved underneath the lining. This would stabilize the cover. The lining would cover the top and be fastened with Velcro. The second hiding place would be one he could wear. His new leather jacket had a zip-in lining. The cover would be concealed under the lining. This was definitely “plan B,” as the cover might be heavy. It could pull the coat out of shape. If this method needed to be used, he would carry a backpack to conceal any bulkiness.
*******
Michael tapped on the door and entered. “Hi, Sara! Bad news—another offer on Mrs. De’s place has fallen through.”
“What a disappointment for her, Michael.”
“The realtor spoke with Mrs. De and Pauley. The decision is to take it off the market for about three months. There is no mortgage on the place; therefore, the financial burden is minimal. It’s odd, a part of me is sorry for Mrs. De, but my more selfish part is happy; things are now solid for my trip.”
Sara interrupted, “Should I?”
Michael grinned, “Yes! Go ahead with the reservation. I’ve told eve
ryone I’m going to visit my sick uncle.” He sat there in a bit of a daze, petting the cat. “I feel like hell, lying to Mrs. De about where I’m going. I plan to do all painting and fixtures before I leave. Manny will check on the place weekly.”
“There’s just no choice but to tell a few white lies. On the flip side, this has been a total kick, Michael. There’s a part of me that will be sorry to see it end, no matter what the outcome.”
“If I do succeed, we will have loads more fun days ahead. My biggest apprehension is transporting the cover to Switzerland, assuming I find it. Where are we with possible contacts in Zurich?”
“The lawyer for the German manuscript deal died quite a while ago. His practice has been taken over by two other lawyers who specialize in the same area. I believe one of them may be his son.”
Michael spoke in a business-like tone. “That’s a start. I hope we are able to contact them. I wonder if we should rattle any cages at this point. I would rather we collect all potential leads and wait to contact them—if I’m successful. The story about the German manuscript leads me to think the art and antique world is a close-knit group, and gossip will travel fast. There is a certain fascination with art treasures, and the possibility of mysterious findings will add fuel to the fire. What about appraisers?”
“I will continue to research after you leave; we can communicate if you need to proceed to Zurich. I will be able to figure out who has the most experience. There is one appraiser in California who is world-renowned and another in London.”
“I would like to leave as soon as possible; I will finish the work at Mrs. De’s next week. I think this will become more real once I am on Irish soil.”
“I have a check list for B&Bs.”
“Thanks! I found a detailed map of County Meath at the travel store. I bought a large water-tight zip lock plastic bag for the cover. My email knowledge is proficient enough—thanks to you. It’ll probably be a better option than phoning due to time changes and your dad possibly being within hearing range.”