Читать книгу Ancient Inheritance - Rita Vetere - Страница 10

Chapter 5

Chicago, October 1980

Alan glanced up from the paperwork on his desk when his granddaughter Catherine ran into the room wearing Sesame Street pajamas. She shoved a storybook into his hands.

“Read, Grandy. Want story.”

He glanced at his watch. “Bedtime already?”

He put aside the contract Hollister had handed to him at the office earlier today, and picked up Catherine. “Okay, story time. What’s it going to be tonight?” he asked. He took the book from her tiny hands to study the cover, and smiled.

“Want the angel story, Grandy.”

“Little Lost Angel it is,” he said, carrying her with him into the kitchen so she could say goodnight to his wife Kate and daughter Erin.

“G’night, Nanna. G’night mommy,” Catherine chimed.

As Kate kissed her granddaughter’s soft round cheek and ruffled her raven hair, Alan was struck once again by how much the child resembled her. Even after thirty years of marriage, his wife’s fragile beauty still took his breath away. Aside from their striking dark hair and delicate bone structure, Kate and his granddaughter also shared the same outgoing personality. His daughter, Erin, on the other hand, was fair-haired and blue-eyed like him, and had inherited his quiet, reserved manner as well.

“Sleep tight, angel,” Kate told the little girl.

“Mommy, come upstairs, too,” Catherine demanded.

“As soon as Grandy’s done reading your story, I’ll come right up, promise.”

Erin turned to him. “She loves it when you read to her, almost as much as I used to.”

Alan’s heart still ached for Erin. She’s been through so much. He carried Catherine upstairs, remembering the day almost four years ago when Erin had shown up at their door, seven months pregnant and crying. She had barely been able to get the words out. Tom was dead. The plane her husband had boarded for a business trip that morning had crashed on takeoff. Erin had returned to live with them until the baby arrived and, afterward, they had convinced her to remain. Thank goodness the birth of her daughter had given back to Erin some of the joy Alan thought she had lost forever.

After he got Catherine settled into bed, he opened the book and began to read. Halfway through the story, he looked down. She was sound asleep. He stayed with her for a while, watching the gentle rise and fall of her breathing as she slept, then left her to her dreams and went downstairs to finish work.

He spent some time looking over the contract, which was a good one. Leaning back in his leather chair, he closed his eyes, thinking about his family and reminding himself how truly blessed he was.

His hand moved up to the medallion of the Archangel Michael he wore around his neck. For the past thirty-five years, it had served to remind him of his secret, one he’d kept safe since returning home from the war to Chicago in 1945.

Since that time, he had prospered beyond his wildest dreams. Alan’s father, always a forward-looking man, had put his life savings into a polyethylene plant after the war and had come close to financial ruin in trying to make a go of it. But after his death in 1957, when Alan took over the company, business virtually doubled the first year. Now, twenty-three years later, he had four plants in full operation. One lucrative contract after another seemed to drop into his lap. Success had come too easily. The thought made him uncomfortable. Not for the first time, he wondered whether his good fortune was a result of what he’d come to possess during the last days of World War II.

With each passing year, Alan’s anxiety over the secret he carried had lessened a little, although he never allowed himself to become careless. When he moved his family into the comfortable house in the upscale neighborhood of Hyde Park, he quietly arranged for a tiny hidden room to be constructed behind the wall of his study, where what he had acquired in Nuremberg could reside undisturbed. Being a cautious man, in that same room, he also set aside cash each month, envisioning a time when he might have to move quickly.

He had never spoken of what happened in Nuremberg to anyone, not to his best friend Joe, not even to Kate, with whom he shared everything else. The secret he guarded was too precious to risk its discovery.

He glanced at the clock on his desk, surprised to find it was close to midnight. Alan left his study and went upstairs to bed, unaware that his good fortune was about to take a turn for the worse.

Heavy rain stripped the few remaining leaves from the trees and a cold, late-autumn wind snatched them, sending them racing into the night sky, as a fierce storm sprang into action.

In their large upstairs bedroom, Alan slept next to Kate. His eyes shifted back and forth under his closed lids. His pulse quickened. A small moan escaped him as he moved through the foggy terrain of his dream.

Moments later, he awoke with a start and sat up in a cold sweat. Anxiously, he scanned the dark bedroom. Shadows of wind-swept branches raced across the walls. He listened, but could only detect the sound of heavy rain drumming against the window.

He slid out of bed, taking care not to awaken Kate.

In the dark room, something glimmered on the floor, and he walked over to investigate. Startled, he picked up a sparkling object. It was a large feather of purest white that glowed with unearthly iridescence. He’d seen a feather like this one once before, in Nuremberg.

He stared at the luminescent feather resting in the palm of his hand. It hadn’t been a dream. A cold chill danced over his skin, and he trembled. Although he knew what he had to do, he was afraid.

Alan glanced at the nightstand clock. Four in the morning, five o’clock on the east coast. He went downstairs and picked up the phone, dialing a number he knew by heart. A sleepy voice answered on the other end, and Alan breathed a sigh of relief. “Joe, it’s Alan. I’m sorry to be calling at such an hour, but I’m in trouble. I need your help.”

* * * *

Just before noon, Joe arrived on Alan’s doorstep. Alan ushered him inside the house after scanning the street through the drizzly fog.

“Thank God,” he said, when Joe was inside. “I don’t know what I would have done if you hadn’t been able to come.”

“I’m here, old buddy,” Joe reassured him. “Now, what’s going on?”

Alan avoided Joe’s worried eyes. “Let’s talk in the other room.” He led the way to the study and closed the door behind them.

For a long moment, Alan didn’t speak. Then he said, “Thank you for this, Joe. I know how it must sound—”

“Listen. I’m ready to do whatever you need, but you have got to tell me what this is all about. What are you running from? What’s going on?”

Joe, even if I could tell you, you’d never believe it. He looked at his old friend, unsure what to say next.

“Alan. Whatever you tell me stays between the two of us and these four walls. What is it? Did you get mixed up with the wrong crowd? Piss somebody off? Somebody in the Mob maybe?”

If it were only that easy. He shook his head no.

“What then?”

“I can’t tell you, Joe,” he finally said. “Believe me, I wish I could. But it’s better that you don’t know. Safer. Not just for you, but for Kate, Erin, and the baby, too.”

“Well, if you can’t tell me why you are going, can you tell me where?” Joe persisted.

Alan sighed, exasperated. “I don’t know. I have to leave, disappear for while. I’m not going to lie to you, so you’re just going to have to take this on faith. When I get to where I’m going, and it’s safe, I’ll contact you.”

After a long moment, Joe sighed. “All right,” he finally agreed. “If this is the way you think you have to play it. But I swear to God, Alan, if you get yourself killed, I’ll—”

“Don’t worry about me.” Alan assured him. “Your job is to worry about Kate and the girls.” Thinking about the possible consequences, Alan turned away so his friend would not see the tears welling up in his eyes.

Joe must have sensed his distress.

“Hey.” Joe reached out and touched his arm as if to offer comfort and reassurance.

“Rest easy, okay? They’ll be safe with me. I’ll see to it.”

Alan just nodded and then walked to the other side of the desk. He handed Joe a duffle bag. “You’ll need this. There’s enough in there to see to whatever they need,” he said.

Joe opened the bag and gave a low whistle. He then looked up at Alan, his eyes filled with worry.

Alan wanted to reassure him, but the awful certainty he was never going to see his old friend again crept into his heart.

He went upstairs where he knew he was going to face even more questions he couldn’t answer.

Kate sat on the edge of the bed crying.

“It’s time, Kate.” Alan sat down next to her on the bed.

She raised a tear-stained face to him. “Alan, please tell me what you’re running away from. Whatever it is, we can fix it together. Don’t do this.” Her voice broke.

“Look at me, Kate.” It was breaking his heart to see her like this. “Do you love me?”

“You know I do, but this is madness.”

“I need you to trust me. I haven’t done anything wrong, I swear to you. I’m not involved in anything illegal. It’s nothing like that. But,” he paused. “I received a threat that you, Erin, and the baby are in danger.”

“You received a threat? In the middle of the night?” Kate looked at him, her eyes narrowed.

“I know how this sounds, but I’m not crazy. All I can tell you is it has to do with something that happened a long time ago. I can’t take any chances with your safety. Do you believe me?”

She searched his face, and to Alan’s relief, she seemed to find the reassurance she needed. After giving him a kiss with trembling lips, she stood up and began to pack a suitcase. Her hand hovered over an antique perfume bottle given to her by her mother. “Are we ever coming back?” she suddenly asked. Then, without waiting for an answer, she wrapped it in tissue and tucked it in her bag.

In less than an hour, they were ready to go.

“Take our car, Joe.” Alan handed him the keys to the Mercedes, a gift he’d surprised Kate with just last month. “Look after my girls. They’re everything to me.”

“You know I will,” Joe said evenly, “and you know where to reach me.”

“As soon as I’m able to,” Alan replied. If I’m able to.

As they grabbed the suitcases, Joe murmured to Alan, “If you change your mind and need help with whatever it is, call me. I don’t have a good feeling about this.”

Alan didn’t acknowledge it, but he shared Joe’s sentiment. “Thanks.” He didn’t know what else to say.

Joe put the luggage in the car as Alan said a tearful goodbye to Kate, Erin, and Catherine.

Kate looked him in the eye. “You come back to us, Alan. Do whatever it is you think you have to, but promise me you’ll come back to us safe.”

“As soon as I can, Mermaid, I promise,” he told her, using the pet name he’d given her when they were young. He kissed her, hoping this wasn’t the last kiss they would ever share, and stroked her soft hair.

He turned to Erin and hugged her tight. “Everything’s going to be all right. I know you’ll take care of your mom and the baby until I can get back.”

She didn’t cry but only gave him a look to let him know she would do whatever was needed. “Be careful, Dad.”

Little Catherine clutched her teddy bear and smiled up at him. “Trip, Grandy.”

“You’re going to have a wonderful time.” He bent down to kiss her warm, round cheek.

“Coming too, Grandy?” she asked.

“I’ll come as soon as I can, sweetheart. You take care of Mommy and Nanna for me until I get there, all right?”

From the living room window, Alan watched the car carry its precious cargo down the foggy, leaf-strewn street and into the gloomy fall day. Tears blurred his vision as the truth sank in. He might never see them again. Please Joe, take care of them if I don’t make it back.

Alan knew he should move quickly, but he was consumed with worry about his family. At least they were with Joe, who would protect them with his life. And they would have a decent place to live, the loft in Soho he had purchased five years ago from Joe. It was no surprise his street-smart friend had done well for himself as a real estate agent in New York. But even then, Alan had been careful. The title to the apartment was in the name of a holding company that could not be traced back to Alan. He had lied to Joe, telling him it was an investment, when in reality it had all been part of the preparations he’d been making for years and hoping he’d never have to use. Now he was thankful it was available when he needed it.

Alan had only given Joe half the cash he had secreted away. If invested properly, his family would be able to manage quite well. He’d tucked the other half of the cash into an overnight bag now sitting on the back seat of the Volvo in the garage. He’d packed two large suitcases as well. Looking around, he was again assaulted by the thought that he could never come back here. All the money in the bank accounts, his assets, his business, and this house were a loss. But it was imperative for him to disappear without a trace. He double-checked his new identification, which he’d also procured in anticipation of this day. His last name was Merrick now.

Finally, he entered the tiny room behind his study. The object was still encased in the heavy silk cloth he’d wrapped around it at Nuremberg. He tucked it in the inside pocket of his jacket.

He had no destination in mind. He’d just start driving and hope he’d know where he was going when he got there. With a heavy heart, he got behind the wheel of the Volvo, backed it out of the garage and drove into the overcast day.

* * * *

Kate stared out the passenger window into the grey afternoon, seeing nothing, trying to hold back the tears that kept threatening to erupt. Turning in her seat, she noticed Erin appeared equally depressed. Catherine, done in from having been awakened so early and having missed her morning nap, was fast asleep beside her in the back seat. As she turned to face forward again, Kate heard Joe mutter something under his breath. The car swerved suddenly to the right as they sped up onto an off-ramp.

“What are you doing?” she shrieked.

Joe nodded in the direction of the rear-view mirror. “Looks like we’ve got company.”

Kate twisted in her seat to look out the rear window of the car and saw Erin doing the same. A black car screeched onto the ramp after them, cutting off a van that braked just in time to escape a collision.

“Shit,” Joe said.

“They’re following us,” Erin cried. “Mom?”

Kate’s eyes were trained on the car tailing them. It was approaching far too fast, even though they were now travelling at a dangerous rate of speed. In no time the chrome grill of the black car came within feet of their rear bumper.

“Is the car seat secure?” she asked, glancing nervously at Catherine. Her granddaughter continued to sleep soundly as Erin double-checked it.

“Yes.”

She looked at Erin, whose eyes reflected her own worry. Dear God, Alan, what have you gotten us into?

They carried on that way for a while on the two-lane road, with the car behind trying to ram them, and Joe driving faster and faster.

When the car behind finally hit them, they careened off into a ditch. Joe somehow managed to keep the car upright, bringing it to a stop in the field below. The black car skidded to a halt on the shoulder above them.

“Is everyone all right?” Joe asked.

“I think so,” she said, turning to her daughter. “Erin?”

“We’re all right,” she said, trying to sooth Catherine, who had begun to whimper. The poor child must have been exhausted, for Kate saw her eyes close in sleep again a second later.

“Mom, what’s going on?”

“I wish I knew,” Kate said. She felt her insides clench, sick with worry now.

“Stay here.” Joe told her, jumping out of the car.

Kate faced forward again to see two large and nasty-looking men making their way down the embankment towards Joe. She recognized trouble when he saw it, and these two, even though dressed in suits, definitely looked like trouble to her.

She rolled down the window so she could hear.

“Alan Fairfield?” she heard heavy-set one call out to Joe.

“Who wants to know?” she heard Joe say.

She watched as Joe met them at the foot of the embankment. A knife appeared in the hand of one of the thugs.

Joe turned towards the car. “Go!” he yelled over his shoulder at her.

Kate clambered frantically into the driver’s seat. She could still see Joe, but in the next instant, she watched in horror as the man plunged his knife into Joe’s chest, ripping the blade upward before removing it. Joe went down. The man rifled through Joe’s pockets, retrieved his wallet, then cried out in surprise.

“Shit. It ain’t Fairfield. We got the wrong guy. He must still be back at—”

“Hurry, Mom.” Erin shrieked from the back seat.

Kate floored the gas pedal, turning the car around into the field too fast, losing traction. She got about twenty feet before the car slowed, coming to a bumpy halt.

“They shot the tires,” Erin cried.

From out the back window, Kate could see the two men running toward their car. The barrels of the guns they carried looked very long, and Kate realized they were fitted with silencers.

Horrified, she turned to her daughter. Erin was placing her coat over Catherine, who had begun to cry. “Shh, don’t wake up baby. It’s all right. Go back to sleep for mommy,” Then, “Mom. Give me your coat. Hurry.”

Understanding what Erin meant to do, Kate quickly passed her trench coat back and watched as Erin adjusted it over her own, making sure to leave an opening near the top so the child would not be smothered.

Please, God, don’t let them hurt the baby.

She and Erin opened the car doors in unison and took off running into the field to divert the men’s attention from the child.

They only got a few feet before Kate heard a sound like a sneeze, and watched as Erin fell face down into the field.

“Oh, God, no,” was all she had time to think before a second bullet caught the back of her head, severing her connection with the world.

* * * *

As Alan drove, he constantly looked into his rearview mirror. So far, he’d not noticed anyone tailing him.

Traffic was light, which was how he came to notice a black car careening crazily down the opposite side of the highway. It was going so fast it nearly ran up the back of a semi-truck. Blaring horns sounded as it changed lanes and cut off a small blue compact.

The sight set off a clang of alarm in his head. On impulse, he turned off at the next exit. He watched the white lines flash by and tried not to think about anything except the task at hand, getting to safety, wherever that might be.

A car lay angled in the field next to the ditch. He brought the Volvo to a screeching halt on the shoulder. That was the Mercedes. He remained at the wheel, frozen with fear, until his panicked mind ordered him to move.

He jumped out and ran towards the car. In his rush, he tripped over something at the foot of the embankment. Oh, God. Joe. Noting the large amount of blood puddled beneath the body, he checked Joe’s pulse, only to confirm what Alan already knew in his heart.

Heart pounding painfully in his chest, he raced for the Mercedes. As he approached, he saw the tires were flat. The car doors hung ajar. He ran forward and then spotted something fluttering in the field. Cloth?

A guttural, whining sound escaped him as he hurried toward what he now realized was his wife’s body. When he reached her, the scream that rose in his throat got caught. It came out as the whimpering of a wounded animal instead.

Oh, Kate.

Where was Erin? He scanned the field and saw another limp bundle laying less than twenty feet away.

His daughter, too, was dead.

He stood in the middle of the field and cursed himself.

This was his fault. A terrible rage ripped through him. He’d done what was asked of him and still his family had been taken. Why? Anger turned to hopelessness as he knelt on the wet ground clutching his murdered wife’s body. He was too numb to move until the sound of a crying child penetrated his pain.

Catherine.

He stumbled back to the car as the cries grew louder. He peered inside, but couldn’t see her. Frantically, he searched the back seat, lifting the coats away.

“Grandy. Want Mommy. Where’s Mommy?”

He burst into tears of relief when he found her unharmed. Not waiting for an explanation for this miracle, he removed the distraught child from the car and pressed her face against his chest to block her vision.

Moving Catherine to his hip, he popped open the trunk. The duffle of money he’d given Joe was still in there, and he picked it up. If he’d needed any further confirmation that this was not a robbery gone bad or some other random misadventure, he had it. He ran up the embankment, placed Catherine in the Volvo, and then slid behind the steering wheel.

Within minutes, he was on the road and only God knew where he was going.