Island of Time, page 5
ELEVEN
But after they returned to the car and Jackson reported what had transpired, no one seemed eager to break the silence. Simeon drove them back down the empty Rhone highway. The afternoon shadows were stronger now, drawing the valley into an early dusk. The sunset was sliced cleanly by the Alpine cliffs, shooting great swaths of gold across the sky directly overhead. Strangely enough, it only added to the lowland gloom. Jackson had skied the neighboring resorts several times, but never before visited the Rhone plains. He had no intention of ever returning.
To Jackson’s surprise, it was Luca who finally broke the silence. When the car passed through Aigle and accelerated on to the lakefront highway, Luca touched the face of his watch and said, ‘It is twenty past four?’
Jackson checked the clock set in the dash. ‘Right.’
‘Then we have time for one more stop. Could you please drive to a jewelry store in Vevey?’
Simeon snorted softly but did not speak. He took the next turnoff and entered the lakeside resort. As they drove along Vevey’s main shopping avenue, Jackson asked, ‘Any store in particular?’
‘An expensive one,’ Luca replied.
Simeon angled into a parking space and cut the motor. He made no further move. He just sat there, blind to the pedestrians and the scene beyond the car’s windscreen. Jackson understood the detective’s silence. They were supposed to be professionals, able to break down a crime scene’s chaos into definable fragments. But this maelstrom of confusion left him unable to identify the first question he needed to ask.
Luca must have read in the silence their need for answers, for he said, ‘Your conversation with Monsieur Bouchon is the evidence I required. Gentlemen, there were no murders. There was no crime.’
Simeon swiveled in his seat. But he did not stare at Luca. Instead, his gaze rested on Jackson.
Jackson repeated, ‘No crime.’
‘Correct.’ Luca kneaded the cane, briefly illuminating the carved surface. ‘Bernard Bouchon did not kill his family. He did not commit suicide.’
‘No crime,’ Jackson said once more. ‘What about the stolen documents?’
‘How could Bernard Bouchon possess anything,’ Luca replied, ‘when the man we hunt never existed?’
‘Bernard Bouchon spent years on a personal quest,’ Luca said. ‘The result carried enormous, life-changing power. But it is not enough for one to hold such scrolls. They do not give up their knowledge to anyone.’
‘The hidden script,’ Jackson said.
‘Exactly. Bernard must have had quite considerable magical abilities. But he never studied as a Talent. On this point, I am certain. Everything else is pure conjecture, so please—’
Simeon spoke for the first time since leaving the Rhone. ‘Tell us what you suspect.’
‘Very well.’ Luca gripped the cane with both hands, much as he might have reached for the edge of a lectern. Preparing himself before launching in. And that was how Jackson thought the man spoke. ‘Bernard Bouchon probably became aware of his magical abilities later in life. At that point, he was already set upon his life’s course.’
Simeon said, ‘I thought magic revealed itself to the young.’
‘In most cases, that is certainly true. But there are exceptions. Some Talents do not realize their potential until they are in their twenties, sometimes even older. It is very rare, but it happens. If I am correct, this occurred with Bernard. And when the discovery was made, Bernard decided to keep it a secret. Why? Because he was ambitious. His uncle owned one of the largest watchmaking conglomerates in Switzerland. Bernard did not want to be a Talent. He wanted to rule the clan’s fiefdom. So he hid his magic from everyone. No doubt it proved a powerful asset in gaining control of the Bouchon empire.
‘But once he obtained his prize, Bernard Bouchon found only strife and struggle. My research indicates that Bernard was far from being a happy man. He divorced his first wife and was estranged from his first three children. He married a much younger woman and had two more children. But the problems within the Bouchon clan continued to plague him. His second wife recently filed for divorce. What is more, the company has fallen into financial disarray. Profits have been declining for four straight years. Many of the senior employees loathed Bernard. The board was talking of dismissing him. Bernard’s triumph was empty. He hated his life.’
Jackson tried to find a logical pattern but failed. ‘So he decided to use magic for … what?’
‘He elected to try. He had identified something that offered hope of a genuine transformative event. That much is certain. And he pursued this magical ambition for years. Remember, for Bernard to have learned the elements required to unfold the true message of an Ancient scroll signifies that he was a Talent of some measure. He used this and his fortune to seek out texts and artifacts that have been lost for centuries. He spent years of his life and millions of his fortune.’
‘The question still stands,’ Simeon insisted. ‘What was he after?’
Luca’s fingers played over the top of his staff, igniting fire and mystery. ‘I have a theory. If I am right, we should receive confirmation at midnight. What I think is this. Bernard Bouchon sought a means to start over. He wanted to revisit a crucial juncture in his previous life. In so doing, he erased the man we encountered from human existence.’
Simeon said, ‘What about the bodies in the safe?’
‘You are still thinking in the straight lines of a magic-free universe,’ Luca replied. ‘Remember what I said.’
‘There was no murder,’ Jackson said softly. ‘Because they never existed.’
‘The wife never met the man who did not take this course through human existence,’ Luca confirmed. ‘How could there be children? All we witnessed was the eradication of what is now myth.’
Simeon shifted in his seat. ‘And the father?’
‘Bernard’s father … now, that is why we made this journey. So we could witness for ourselves the truth. Bernard Bouchon’s former life is already being erased.’
The Mercedes was so well insulated that the passing traffic was reduced to a soft murmur. Jackson listened to the dashboard clock’s soft ticking. He felt his heart beating. The soft leather anchored him to reality.
Luca went on, ‘Step by step, all signs that Bernard ever existed will vanish. The wife and children of his second marriage are already gone. His first wife will not recall him – if indeed you can even track her down. His cousin will take over the business, and within a few hours, no one will even remember that Bernard was ever associated with the firm. The home on Rue Gambord will be acquired by someone else, and soon they will feel as though they have lived there for years.’
Jackson asked, ‘What about our investigation?’
‘You will make no progress. People will appear confused when you speak of the case. Records will evaporate. Your own files will soon disappear. Before long, no one will remember anything about the event. Why should they, since it never happened? You will be reassigned. The next case will occupy you completely.’
Softly, Simeon protested, ‘But I remember everything.’
Jackson saw the answer illuminated in the car’s luxurious interior. ‘Luca is making this happen.’
‘Exactly. And that is why we have stopped.’ He leaned to his left and pulled a worn wallet from his back pocket. He extracted a credit card and reached forward. ‘I need you to both go inside and buy Bouchon watches for yourselves. They must be as close to solid gold as the store offers.’
Jackson accepted the card. It was in the name of Luca Tami and issued by the Julius Brothers Bank, one of the ultra-private concerns in Geneva. Jackson knew very little about them, other than that their clients were required to maintain a minimum balance of several million dollars.
Luca added, ‘Diamonds embedded in the face would be helpful.’
‘No diamonds,’ Simeon said.
‘Diamonds would help,’ Luca insisted. ‘But more importantly, the watches must be gold. And no crystal movement. Which should not be a problem. The Bouchon group remains traditionalist in its watchmaking.’
Jackson said, ‘Two gold Bouchon watches will cost a fortune.’
‘I am very rich,’ Luca said. ‘The card’s PIN is four nines. Hurry. We must be back in Geneva well before midnight.’
TWELVE
Simeon remained locked inside his internal debate, so Jackson selected a jewelry shop with fabulously ornate display windows. The security guard stationed inside the bulletproof door admitted them one at a time. The portico between the exterior door and the second was an airless coffin, made bearable only because both doors were glass. When the outer door clicked shut, the guard opened the interior and asked Jackson’s business. Jackson fully understood the guard’s apprehension. He had worn the same clothes since starting his midnight shift the previous evening. He had been through a hospital blast and a very long day. But when Jackson said they wanted to buy matching gold watches, the guard pointed him towards a smiling sales clerk and released the outer door for Simeon to enter.
The Swiss detective showed no real interest in the selection process, so Jackson chose a classical design, rectangular and slim with an alligator band. The watches were yellow gold, as were the Roman numerals marking the face. When Jackson pointed to the cabochon sapphires adorning the winding stem and asked if they could be replaced with diamonds, the clerk offered to insert additional diamonds on the face, above the twelfth Roman numeral. Jackson gave Simeon a chance to object, and when the detective remained silent, he agreed. What the young man thought of two hard-bitten and weary men buying matching watches that cost over ten thousand dollars each, he did not show. The Swiss were nothing if not discreet.
The clerk ran their purchase through Luca’s credit card, then excused himself to change the gemstones. The guard remained stationed by the door, staring at the world beyond his bulletproof cage. The other sales clerk asked if they wanted coffee, then vanished into the store’s interior.
Simeon murmured, ‘How will these watches keep our memories alive?’
Jackson did not feel any need to respond. He could already see where this was headed.
Simeon sighed, ‘Luca will cast another of his spells.’
Jackson waited.
Simeon said, ‘I cannot begin to count the laws I have broken.’
Jackson did not respond.
‘If I choose not to wear this watch, it would mean that I could resume the life that I call normal,’ Simeon said. ‘Arresting normal crooks for committing normal crimes. All of this would vanish.’
‘It would,’ Jackson agreed.
‘My biggest concern would once again be my delinquent son,’ Simeon went on. ‘I could love my wife in peace. I could once again assume that my beloved country remains free of all magical design.’
‘Probably within a matter of hours,’ Jackson said.
‘I must think about this very seriously. Most likely I will discuss it with my wife.’ He glanced at Jackson. ‘You will not think less of me for declining to proceed?’
‘In your circumstances,’ Jackson replied, ‘I would be tempted to do the same.’
‘Tempted,’ Simeon repeated. ‘But what would you actually do?’
Jackson shook his head. ‘My path and yours are so wide apart that it is impossible for me to say.’
‘Your path. Your path.’ Simeon found a bitter taste in the words. ‘What path will you take now, Jackson?’
‘I think you know.’
‘Even if it means you might be swallowed as well? Even if one day I might forget that I once had a friend named Jackson Burnett?’
‘You are tied to your homeland and your family,’ Jackson pointed out.
‘And you?’
The sales clerk emerged then, bearing the two watches in gold-embossed leather cases. Jackson accepted them both and let the guard seal him once more in the bulletproof portico. Only then, in the still air and the tight confines, did Jackson silently release the truth. The hazards and mysteries and risks enshrouding this case actually sounded rather appealing.
When Jackson offered to drive them back, Simeon responded by slipping into the passenger seat. Jackson handed the two watches to Luca and watched as the blind man took them both, compressed them between his hands, and lifted them to his forehead. Then he simply sat there. After a time, Luca handed them back. The watches felt intensely hot, almost scalding. Jackson let his cool slightly, then strapped it to his wrist. Simeon accepted his and slipped it into his pocket.
Jackson had a growing number of questions for Luca, but he had no problem with waiting. In fact, he liked the silence. He needed time to come to terms with the new situation. Far more was involved than recalling a series of events. Jackson knew he was resuming a pattern of action from his past. He had rarely permitted himself the luxury of dwelling on those lost years. The memories of the period leading up to his wife’s death remained a wound that was very slow to heal. And yet now, as he drove the powerful vehicle along the lakefront highway, he found he did not mind this new direction. The truth was, he felt exhilarated.
While they were mired in Geneva’s evening traffic, Simeon asked to be dropped off at his home. Jackson was mildly disappointed but not surprised. He halted before the detective’s house and watched Simeon tread wearily up the front walk. When the front door closed behind him, Jackson said, ‘He isn’t wearing the watch.’
‘He still has time to change his mind. Midnight – perhaps an hour or so later.’
‘After that?’
‘You know the answer, Jackson.’
‘No, I mean, about this investigation.’
‘We will make other arrangements.’ Luca’s fingers traced over his watch face. ‘There is still time. We must eat something.’
‘I am not hungry.’
‘You will be. We should hurry.’
‘Midnight is still hours away,’ Jackson pointed out.
‘We must be in place well before then. If I’m right, the closer we come to midnight, the more time will congeal.’
‘If you are right,’ Jackson repeated. ‘You mean, you still don’t know?’
‘The evidence we gathered in the Rhone Valley merely serves as a compass heading,’ Luca replied. ‘Tonight we find the true direction of our quest.’
Jackson slipped the car into gear. ‘And here I was thinking this was about an investigation.’
‘An investigation requires a crime,’ Luca reminded him. ‘The authorities will accept that we must hunt for scrolls of the Ancients, nothing more. And that, my friend, defines a quest.’
Jackson found himself sniffing the air, much like Luca had, only more softly. Trying to decide how it felt to be called this strange man’s friend. ‘So where do we need to get to?’
‘Back to the Bouchon residence,’ Luca said. ‘As quickly as possible.’
‘The vanished crime scene,’ Jackson said. When Luca did not respond, he asked, ‘Does takeout work for you?’
THIRTEEN
But as he started towards his favorite sandwich bar, Jackson found the reality hovering above the lake’s rose-tinted waters. ‘This investigation is going to take us far from Geneva.’
‘That would be my assumption.’
‘In that case, Simeon won’t be joining us. Even if he wears the watch. He is a detective on the Geneva force. It’s all he’s ever wanted.’
‘That is my impression as well,’ Luca replied.
‘I need a partner in this.’ When the rear seat remained silent, Jackson added, ‘A partner who can see. A partner who’s a cop.’
‘I am not objecting, Jackson. There could well be instances when my presence would create additional danger. You have someone in mind?’
Jackson was already reaching for his phone. He had all the Interpol officers in his address book. ‘I do.’
‘Should we discuss this?’
Jackson hesitated. The question was valid. Even so, he was reluctant to take that step. ‘I don’t like setting a precedent.’
Luca did not respond.
‘I think this is a good person to bring in. She is someone I think I can trust. Too many of the agents assigned to the Geneva station operate at half speed. But that’s not the real issue. Once we start moving, I need the freedom of independent action. I can’t keep coming back to you for approval of my decisions.’
Luca nodded slowly. ‘I understand.’
‘In that case, her name is Krys Duprey.’
‘We have met. Briefly.’ Luca kneaded his cane. ‘She may object to my participation.’
‘Either you both agree to work together or we find someone else.’
‘Very well.’
Jackson found the name and hit speed dial. When Krys Duprey answered, Jackson asked, ‘Would you like to help me with a new investigation?’
‘Is this a joke?’
‘I have a case. It’s been given the green light by Brussels. I need …’
‘What?’
‘Someone I can trust.’
Krys huffed a very hard breath, a sound Jackson recognized from his own injured time. She asked, ‘Where do I meet you?’
‘I’m coming by.’ He checked the phone’s read-out. ‘You live on Rue Champéry?’
‘The old building on the corner, by the plaza.’
He gunned through a light and took a sharp right inland. ‘Meet me out front. I’m inbound in five.’
Any excitement Krys Duprey might have felt over Jackson’s call evaporated the instant she opened the passenger door and spotted the man in the back seat. ‘What’s this about?’
‘This is Luca Tami. He’s—’
‘I know who he is.’ She made no move to enter the vehicle. ‘I asked you a question.’
‘Luca’s presence is essential to this investigation.’ When she remained standing on the sidewalk, Jackson said, ‘Get in or shut the door. It’s your call.’
Krys shot Luca a very hard glare, then settled into the passenger seat. And slammed the door.
When they stopped at Jackson’s favorite takeout, a corner shop selling astonishingly good Lebanese, Krys remained immobile, silent. Jackson ordered three falafel-and-salad flatbreads and three with roast lamb and spring onions, then selected three soft drinks and three fresh juices. The Lebanese matriarch was seated behind the cash register. As usual, she chided Jackson for not letting her find him a nice girl, someone who would help him start living healthy for a change. She complained that he looked exhausted, demanded to know when he last slept, looked genuinely insulted when he replied that the days had started to swim together. He caught a fleeting glimpse of his reflection, saw feverish energy in his hollowed gaze, and assumed Luca was holding the exhaustion at bay. The matron accepted his money and said, ‘Even criminals must find time to sleep, monsieur. Even the heroes.’
