Only coercion, and a beautiful government agent, could force Harry Thursday out of retirement. This time to find the mythical Mask worn by the Minotaur over three thousand years ago. The history of the mask resurfaces during the time of Count Bruno...
"I don't understand," Harry said. "Then why did you interfere with Sara and me in Bern?"
"That wasn't me," replied Romanov.
"You mean that farm with the telescope in the barn is not yours?"
"I sold that long ago."
Harry wasn't sure what to say, perhaps Romanov was telling the truth. After all, he and Sara had killed three people in the house and left three others abandoned on the side of the road, yet he didn't mention it.
"My partner and I killed three of them. They weren't yours?"
"I'm afraid not."
"The people in the house each had a tattoo."
Romanov didn't respond the way Harry had hoped but looked dubious. Mentioning the tattoo of-handed like that, he wanted to get a reaction, but none was forthcoming. Yet Harry knew he didn't make his millions by laying his cards on the table all at once, and he suspected he knew a lot more about what happened in Bern than he let on. Harry was outmatched by this masterful negotiator, but he couldn't let things go without at least attempting to filter out the truth a little more. Kelly excused herself and left the room.
"Then the old lady was working for someone else because she seemed pretty enthusiastic about not being taken alive. I mean, who jumps out a window for their beliefs? I wouldn't."
"I bought the place from an eccentric millionaire who fancied himself a scientist. I especially liked the telescope. But it was old and in disrepair, and I hated staying out in the middle of nowhere alone. I sold it for a good price"
"Odd," Harry said lightly. It was working when I was there.
Romanov tilted his head. Harry wanted to change the subject. Didn't want to reveal too much to his adversary. "The others said they worked for you."
"Really? What did they say exactly?"
"We work for Romanov Industries, I Romanov."
He rolled his head back and chuckled. "That's interesting, but there is no such business. I Romanov is what I stamp on my food imports, but there is no Industries. I'm afraid they were lying."
"But why?"
"Perhaps to blow smoke into your face."
"You're not concerned? It's your name they were implying."
"Yes, I am. I'll look into it to be sure. Where can I find you?"
"I'm staying at the Attica Hotel in the port here. Or you can reach me at the Gennadius Library." He regretted saying that last one. He never meant to bring David into any of this.
"Did you know Franz Hageen?"
"Of course I did. Who do you think managed my portfolio in Switzerland?"
Harry's jaw dropped suddenly and he closed it quickly.
"Yes, I'm sorry to hear that he died. Your presence seems to herald doom, Mr. Thursday." He smiled when he said that. He was joking of course, Harry was sure of it, but he said it anyway and Harry took it to heart.
"Who killed him? I have to know?"
"What will you do with that knowledge?" Romanov was measured, shrewd. "Pugnacity doesn't fit you. You seem like the type to seek adventure, not danger."
"What's one without the other?" He regretted saying that. He sounded childish, like chanting - 'will too, will not,' making claims of a braggart to save face.
"Of course, it is like that for us all. They are not inseparable. We choose if we have to but we don't have to. Not always."
Harry stood to shake the blood into his limbs. He felt foolish and peevish in front of his host, and he worried more that Kelly would pick up on it. "Good Ouzo," he said raising his glass.
"Ours, we make that."
"I've always loved it here. This country, the people. The history."
"Me too, that's why I live here. Have you ever spent the winter in Russia?"
"Is that a rhetorical question?"
"It can be. They are brutal. I prefer the sun, white beaches, and pretty girls."
"I've seen plenty of pretty girls from Russia. Do the communists dress them in rags to hide their beauty for a reason?"
"Knowledge is dangerous. Freedom is slavery, ignorance is strength. According to the doctrine."
"War is peace. Then whom am I fighting?"
"Why not ask your own government? They know. Or someone in it does."
"So, you're telling me that your company has no interest in the Mask?"
"I never said that. I do and always have. It's the brass ring. But there is always another ring. It's a circle. I have a lot of friends. A lot of people owe me favors. Whoever is behind this Mask, is responsible for the death of my brother. And perhaps even Franz."
He looked genuine, and Harry stared at him trying to catch a lie in his movements. Kelly returned to the room as if on cue.
"I'm afraid my time is up Mr. Thursday. I have to be in London tonight and should get ready." He stood and offered his hand to Harry. "If there is anything I can do for you, please let me know." He walked quickly off back into the offices hidden behind the stone walls.
Before he left, at the elevator to the lobby below Kelly leaned in and kissed his cheek and whispered in his ear; "Good luck." She held his hands all the while and slipped him a business card and walked away without looking back.
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