Montaro Caine (25 page)

“You’re asking me to rush to judgment, as if I were a common hustler of trinkets,” said Gabler. “I assure you, I am not. Now, unless you can treat me with the respect I believe I deserve, there’s no point in continuing this discussion.”

“My apologies, if I’ve offended you,” Wildenmiller replied. “We have simply offered what we feel to be a very fair price, all things considered.”

“All things considered but not evenly balanced,” said Gabler. “Forgive me for saying so, but I couldn’t be less interested in your money, as unthinkable as that may sound to you. And I would like to disabuse you of the notion that no alternatives are open to me.”

Wildenmiller’s eyes lit up. “In that regard, Roland, I think it’s fair to tell you that we already know we’re not the only interested party.”

“Meaning?” asked Gabler.

“Meaning that our investigators have already told us that you have met with Montaro Caine and Howard Mozelle,” Wildenmiller said pointedly. “And I highly doubt that they offered you anything near the amount that we have offered you. We figure that they proposed some sort of partnership arrangement.”

Alan Rothman passed his linen napkin across his mouth, removing the salad dressing that had gathered on his lips. “Roland,” he said, “I think you should know that Caine and the doctor won’t be able to make good on anything they’ve proposed. Soon, Caine will not be in a position to honor any deal; he will no longer have a company to cover it.”

“No? Why not?” Gabler raised his eyebrows.

“The company will be changing hands shortly,” Thomas Bolton chimed in.

Carlos Wallace cleared his throat twice, always a reliable indication that he was ready to speak. “Let’s be candid,” he told Gabler. “What you’re really after is a better deal than the one they offered. Isn’t that true?”

Gabler let the question pass.

“If no agreement is reached between us,” said Wildenmiller, “let me repeat, your deal with Caine collapses the minute he is no longer CEO of Fitzer Corporation. So, with respect, I ask that you reconsider our offer.”

“Your offer is not acceptable. The item is not for sale,” Gabler repeated.

“At any price? Or at the price we have offered?” asked Wildenmiller.

Gabler hesitated. He searched their faces before he answered. “At that price,” he said evenly.

“At what price can we do business?” Wildenmiller asked.

Gabler was ready. “At the same price you offered, in addition to the same partnership arrangement that Caine and Mozelle proposed. I will retain a small percentage of all income that arises commercially from the exploitation of the coin and any of the elements it’s composed of.”

Now that the posturing was over and there was an actual deal to negotiate, the others at the table awaited a cue from Wildenmiller. Finally, he broke the silence and attempted to lighten the mood with a question:

“Well, so what do you think of our chef?” he asked.

“No contest,” answered Gabler. “Mine’s better.”

W
HEN
M
ONTARO
C
AINE AND
H
OWARD
M
OZELLE ARRIVED AT
Kritzman Fritzbrauner’s estate, they were greeted by Fritzbrauner himself, who had been standing on his patio as their chauffeured limousine pulled up. Dr. Mozelle was impressed that a man of Fritzbrauner’s wealth and reputation would be greeting them personally. But Caine’s experience as a CEO had taught him that men of Fritzbrauner’s stature, particularly when they were truly interested in the people they were meeting, did not need to reassure themselves of their own importance by relying on underlings and intermediaries. He understood that in trying to avoid Caine, Roland Gabler was still trying to escape his Needles, Nebraska, upbringing. When Caine and Mozelle had requested a meeting with Fritzbrauner, the man’s reply had been quick and affirmative.

Following formal introductions and warm handshakes, Fritzbrauner led his visitors to his drawing room, where he introduced them to Gertz Welbocht, doctor of astronomy at the University of Heidelberg, and Carl Spreight, dean of philosophy at the University of Heidelberg. Caine and Dr. Mozelle recalled Dr. Chasman’s meeting with Welbocht, but Carl Spreight was a total stranger. Colette Beekman was here as well, though she was not quite a stranger to
Caine; in fact, the way she looked at him made him somewhat regret the fact that she wasn’t more of a stranger and also that he hadn’t mentioned her name when Cecilia had asked him whom he would be meeting in Switzerland.

In Fritzbrauner’s opulent drawing room, after a round of cocktails and polite conversation about the weather and the difficulties of coping with transoceanic travel, Fritzbrauner turned his attention directly to Caine and Mozelle and addressed the matter that the men had journeyed all this way to discuss.

“Montaro,” he asked, “have you heard of a legendary pearl that is widely thought to be in the collection of …”

Caine finished the sentence for him. “Roland Gabler,” he said.

“Yes,” said Fritzbrauner. “Are you familiar with the history of that pearl?”

“Not really,” said Caine. “I’ve recently seen some books that mention it. But I’ve never had much interest in collecting.”

“Have you ever seen any part of his collection?”

“Just the little that I saw in his apartment.”

“Were you impressed?”

“As much as I could be.” Caine looked Fritzbrauner straight in the eye. “He has the other coin,” he added. “But you already know that.” Nothing in Fritzbrauner’s manner confirmed or denied Caine’s statement.

“Have you seen it?” Fritzbrauner inquired finally.

“No.”

“How do you know he still has it?”

“We’re certain of it.”

“Having not seen it, you’re certain?” Fritzbrauner raised his eyebrows.

“Yes,” said Caine. “One can know many things without necessarily seeing them up close; unfortunately, the same cannot be said of the coins. In order to understand them, we need to examine them. We’re expecting Gabler’s cooperation to help us solve many of the baffling questions that have been raised by the coins’ existence.”

“And how do you plan to go about solving such questions?”

“Mass spectrometry,” said Caine.

“Sounds like big-time stuff.” Fritzbrauner offered an amused but sincere smile.

“Afterward, we expect to have answers to much of the riddle of the coins.”

“Answers? Such as?”

“The process by which they came into being, for instance. What they’re made of. And maybe, just maybe, even the purpose behind their existence, if one exists. I’m sure you’re intrigued by your own list of whys and hows, and we can try our best to discover the answers to those questions as well.”

For Caine, his elusive host was not an easy read. Fritzbrauner was too experienced and sharp to telegraph his intentions. Caine’s staff had researched Fritzbrauner and Caine had learned that the man had a fascination with metaphysics. All Caine could tell for sure right now was that Fritzbrauner was a man with an insatiable need for intellectual stimulation. For his part, Fritzbrauner liked the candid, straight-to-the-point manner of his guest. He looked at Caine silently for a moment, then asked, “But suppose that what surrounds the coins are mysteries for which there are no answers?”

“Logic and reason tell us there are always answers,” Caine responded. “Even to mysteries for which there appear to be no answers.”

“Not necessarily, Mr. Caine. The path of logic and reason sends one in search of cause and effect, which can sometimes lead one to discover only that one’s riddle is much more of a riddle than one previously thought, and one might have to wait an eternity for an answer to it. I’m sure you would agree that there are some things in this world that logic and reason cannot measure.”

“The combination of logic and reason is the route to inquiry, cause and effect, trial and error,” said Caine. “All are part of a process that has proven, over time, to lead eventually to answers—save, of course, for the big questions—the existence of God for example, and the origin of life. Still, your point is taken.”

The others in the drawing room detected the shift of tone in the exchange between Fritzbrauner and Caine. Their polite patter faded; they stopped sipping their cocktails, and before long, they had quietly circled the two men.

“What are the chances that we are all being stymied by something that we’ll never have a satisfactory explanation for?” Fritzbrauner asked.

“I’d say fair to good,” said Caine.

“Arriving at a dead-end conclusion would be a waste of time for all of us.”

Caine frowned. “Time spent seeking answers to questions as profound as the ones we’re addressing is rarely ever wasted,” he said.

Dr. Mozelle raised a finger. “It could be that we’re being stymied by something that is the result of a purposeful series of events that were designed and are being controlled by forces for which we have no frame of reference.”

Fritzbrauner’s eyes danced a little as he turned back to Caine. “Where would that leave logic and reason, Montaro?” he chided with a friendly chuckle.

“At a temporary disadvantage, I’m afraid,” Caine responded laughing, pleased to see an edge of humor in the man.

Fritzbrauner spun back to face Mozelle. “Could you be more specific, Doctor?”

“Perhaps it is not outside the realm of possibility that we are all acting out predetermined behavior,” said Mozelle. “Think of the odds of two coins being found in the hands of two babies who were destined to marry. That can hardly be a coincidence, but does it represent purposeful design? Who can say? We should, therefore, do everything we can to uncover whatever truth lies at the base of our riddle.”

Fritzbrauner turned to Carl Spreight. “What do you make of all this, Carl?” he asked. “Have we succeeded in baffling you completely?”

“On the contrary,” said Spreight. “It seems to me that, if this whole affair is not a random series of coincidences, it then stands to reason that a specific purpose does in fact lie behind it all. And if that is so, in my humble opinion you gentlemen should prepare yourselves to look beyond known science for answers, possibly into that realm where unknown dimensions lie. Or you might find yourself at the point where logic and reason break down and you will have to accept that your riddle yields no answers.”

Fritzbrauner laughed. “Montaro, you have just witnessed a dean of philosophy give us his rendition of a cagey politician.” As laughter greeted his remarks, Fritzbrauner threw his arm around Gertz Welbocht’s shoulder.

“And you, Gertz, we all know that you would be a Protestant minister today if the Big Bang Theory hadn’t messed up your plans.” More laughter erupted. “Montaro, here is a man who can look back through the eyes of science to the very beginning of time. But all he has ever been able to see is an explosion. God has been watching this man and his friends, wondering when they are going to give Him credit for the fireworks. He’s growing mighty upset with their refusal to acknowledge His work.”

As she stood silently listening to the conversation, Colette Beekman tried to keep her attention focused on her charismatic father, so that she wouldn’t spend her time staring at Caine. This man stirred something inside her; something about him reminded her of her father. Even when she shook hands with Caine, she felt a signal fire up within her.
A warning
, she thought, one strong enough to make her promise herself to keep her distance.

“Well,” Gertz Welbocht began. “As a curious bystander, not as a scientist, you understand, my mind has settled on two aspects in this affair of the coins and stubbornly refuses to budge. First, I am overwhelmed by the astounding mechanics that must have been used to forge such material. Second, look back with me for a moment, if you will, to a time before the coins came into being. The same objects that now present us with our riddle were foreshadowed in the primitive artwork on the walls of one man’s Caribbean hut. I have to wonder how he was inspired to create such prophetic images. It is my unprofessional opinion that a look at Matthew Perch could yield useful insights if not outright answers.”

Fritzbrauner turned to the others, smiled broadly, and gestured toward Welbocht. “My friends, you have just seen a true phenomenon—a mystical Gertz Welbocht. But he begs you not to give him credit for his reckless observations for fear they may ruin his reputation.”

“Ahh yes, Gertz,” mused Caine. “I do thank you for mentioning
the elusive Mr. Perch. We must consider his role in this mystery as well.”

Dr. Mozelle quickly raised a cautioning finger once more. “Allow me to point out that Matthew Perch and the machinery that will study the properties of the coin can both be seen as symbols: one of mysticism, the other of science. I think we should try to avoid an either-or approach in our search for answers.”

“Like opposite sides of the same coin,” Fritzbrauner said with a smile. “We have been speaking of coins, haven’t we?”

“Yes,” said Mozelle. “Both sides should be explored.”

“Your tilt toward Matthew Perch and his world of mysticism has not gone unnoticed, Doctor. Nor has Montaro’s toward the science of mass spectrometry,” said Fritzbrauner.

“And where are you, Kritzman, as of this moment?” asked Mozelle.

“Undecided.”

“Good. An open mind generally allows for discovery.”

“Does it?”

“Yes. Because it can accommodate surprise.”

Colette moved forward into the circle, waving her hand. “Gentlemen, it’s time for dinner,” she said.

“Your timing could not be better,” said Carl Spreight, following close behind Colette.

As Fritzbrauner led Caine toward his dining room, his voice took on a more confidential tone. “Have you anything in mind regarding this fellow Matthew Perch?” he asked.

“If possible, a visit,” Caine replied, “after which we would decide, depending on what we come away with, whether or not it would be safe to do the workup we have planned for the coins. All of this, of course, assumes your cooperation.”

“And Roland Gabler’s, I presume.”

“Yes.”

“What kind of man did you find him to be?”

“Energetic. Smart.”