When he showed a few minutes later, his face still bruised, his lower lip slightly less swollen than last night, Sam stopped his pacing. “You’re up.”
Zakaria smiled, then winced at the pain it caused him. “Sorry to keep you waiting.”
“No worries,” Remi said as Sam took a seat next to her. “It’s not like we have anything going on this morning.”
“You okay?” Sam asked.
“Yes.” Zakaria pulled up a wrought iron chair and sat across from them. “I know I already thanked you, but—”
“No thanks needed,” Sam interjected. “We’re glad we could help.”
Lina excused herself so that they could talk in private.
Zakaria glanced back, checking to make sure they were alone, before saying, “This is my fault. I realize that now. After I saw you had found Karl and Brand, I texted Durin to let him know the search was successful. I told him that you were on your way back.” He gave a deep sigh. “I swear, I had no idea what he was up to or I’d never have let him know anything.”
That explained the timing of it all, Remi thought, as Sam asked, “What happened?”
“Maybe a half hour after I texted, Durin and this other man, Gere, drove up. For them to arrive that quickly meant that they must have been well on their way at the time they got my text.”
Remi glanced toward Sam, certain he had to be thinking the same thing she was. That Durin had intended to ambush them all along. Probably to protect his secret, that he’d already been out to the plane and found the courier bag.
Zakaria absently touched his bruised cheek as he continued his story. “Durin’s friend had an assault rifle slung across his back. I saw another rifle in the car. I—I was shocked. Confused . . . And Durin had this wild look in his eye, and I realized I had to get out of there. But he caught up to me. The next thing I knew, he’s smashing me across my face. He kept asking what we’d found in the plane. When I told him I hadn’t gone out there with you, he accused me of lying, and his friend tied my hands behind my back, forcing me into their car.”
“Did you hear any of their conversation?” Sam asked.
“Some. They were speaking mostly German. Too fast for me to understand more than a few words here and there. One I kept hearing was Lösegeld.”
“Ransom,” Remi translated.
He nodded. “That must be it. Durin told me they were going to hold me for ransom.”
“What about who they worked for?” Sam asked. “Can you tell us anything about the people he was involved with?”
“I heard a name . . . Rol . . . Rolfe . . .” He stared off into the distance a moment, gathering his thoughts. “I’m certain that’s the name I heard. I think he’s the one who came in and tried to get Durin’s address from me. And demanded to know where the courier bag was. Big, bald man in a fancy suit. That’s all I can tell you about him.”
/> Sam pulled his phone from his pocket and looked at a text message on the screen. “We need to get going,” he said to Zakaria. “You’re sure you’ll be okay here?”
“Definitely. Kadin might look harmless, but he’s not. No one’s getting past the front door.”
He walked them out, thanking them again for coming to his aid, and promised to call if he remembered anything else that might be useful.
Remi waited until they were at the car to ask Sam about the text.
“It’s from Selma,” he said. “She thinks that one of the two letters found in the pouch might be in code.”
“She give you any idea what it said?”
“That’s what we’re about to find out.”
19
Definitely an interesting mix,” Selma said when they called her back.
Remi raised the volume on her iPhone so that they could hear over the road noise. The Toyota wasn’t exactly the quietest vehicle they’d ever rented. “Interesting how?”
“A German plane carrying a letter dated half a year after the war ended.”
“Coded?” Sam said, intrigued. “War-related?”