Skating on Thin Ice

Chapter 9: Steeplechase

Salzburg. Sunday, January 28, 2007.

"A week?" Bernhard stared at Neal. He didn't look like he was joking, and the Leopard had praised his talent, but still ...

When he returned from the first evening of concerts, Neal was still at work. The next morning, Bernhard checked the camera feeds before sitting down for breakfast and found him already painting. A servant reported that he'd stayed up till three the previous night.

Over a breakfast of rolls, ham, and cheese, Neal presented his idea after first verifying they could speak freely. Bernhard closed the doors into the breakfast room as a gesture of assurance, but the staff had worked with him for years and were completely trustworthy.

"I assume you're not asking me to paint the Vermeer as a training exercise," Neal continued. "Your request is making me miss the concerts this week. I want it to be worth my time. The last round of concerts is next Sunday. I propose to finish the painting on Saturday, replace the original with it that night, and deliver the original to you on Sunday evening." He cocked an eyebrow. "Are you interested?"

"Of course, I am, but why the hurry?"

"On Monday morning, I fly back to New York. I have a wife to see and classes to teach. If you want the painting, you'll need to agree to my terms. I'll also expect suitable remuneration. Half now and half upon completion of the job."

The kid casually helped himself to another roll as if it was a done deal. This wasn't playing out as he'd anticipated. It was difficult to believe anyone this young could recreate a Vermeer masterpiece. True, Leonardo could have accomplished the feat in that short amount of time. This would establish just how skilled "Francesco" was.

"You've already received a generous down payment," Bernhard pointed out. "I'll reassess in three days. By then the work should be far enough along that I'll know whether you're truly that gifted."

"I am, and I accept the compromise." Neal smiled cheerfully at him. "Now, if you don't mind I'd like to speak with my wife."

Bernhard listened to the exchange. No obvious coded messages, but the recording would be analyzed later. He was tempted to alert Phoenix of the change in plans, but Wednesday would be soon enough.

He'd been pleasantly surprised to receive the message from Phoenix. They hadn't done business for several years, but the terms were the same. Phoenix handled the payments, ensuring that nothing incriminating was in his bank account.

He'd never met Phoenix and only knew his alias. Leonardo had been their initial go-between. Phoenix demonstrated how forgeries could be used as a savings account with the proceeds extracted upon demand. For years, Bernhard patiently built up his account, waiting for the mood of the country to change. His party was now at a critical moment. Their candidate with the proper type of backing could be elected Chancellor in next year's elections.

Bernhard had enjoyed his past working relationship with Leonardo. He shouldn't be dismissive of Francesco. This could be the start of another fruitful partnership.

* * * * *

"The beard is a good look for you," Mozzie said, studying Henry's disguise. "How are you at faking a Swedish accent?"

"Lousy," Henry admitted. "I should work on it. Eric thinks I give off a Scandinavian vibe. I may want to wear the disguise more often." He was wearing a thick Irish sweater and jeans. His sun-bleached blond hair was chin-length and he had a short beard. Richard had designed the look and no one would recognize him.

His flight from Prague arrived in the early afternoon. Mozzie met him with a rental car for the drive to the castle. The previous day, Mozzie had researched Ender's castle and similar buildings of the period in the historical archives of the Austrian National Library. Meanwhile back in New York, Peter was combing through bank records, preparing ironclad documentation of Ender's shady financial transactions.