The Robber Princess

Chapter 15. The Chase of the Savage Goose

Chapter 15

"We'll have to stop in Ireland to refuel," said Regina once they had left Italian airspace. "Let's spend a couple of days there, and we'll do again in Dublin what we did in Rome," she suggested to Angelica with a twinkle in her eye. "We'll send the boys on what the English call the chase of the savage goose."

Angelica loved the idea. She was throwing herself into the role, thoroughly enjoying being able finally to see the world. Buenos Aires, Tallinn, St. Petersburg, Iceland, Rome, Tyrol, now Dublin. Soon she would be off to New York.

Over Strasbourg Regina had a better idea still. "Ange," she asked, "would you go to the back of the plane, look in storage bay F, and bring me the folder on the drone?" Ten minutes later Angelica returned to the cockpit with a thick manila folder. Inside was an equally thick, comb-bound book with no title.

"What's this about?" she asked.

"Remember how the boys showed up in Rome only hours after I called them?" Angelica nodded. "Well, that phone call I got at the hotel surely has been traced to Lake Caldaro, and I suspect that they're arriving in Bolzano any minute now." Regina beamed. "They'll run like headless chickens out of the airport, jump in a police car, race to Caldaro, and find that no one there has seen or heard of any 'Regina Massimiliano-Rochevaux.'"

Angelica began to laugh. "And when the police see me disguised as you in Dublin, they'll go crazy too?"

"Actually, we're going to drive them crazy another way. In the cargo hold there's a drone that Magnús and I developed together a few years ago. Marcelo and I used it for a project in Dubai to liberate a Toulouse-Lautrec from a selfish private collector who wouldn't let anyone else look at it. The drone is gas powered and can carry a large painting while flying at 80 kilometers per hour."

Angelica looked alarmed. "Are we going to steal a painting??"

"No," answered Regina, grinning devilishly. "We're going to steal to their willpower."

Regina spent the next hour perusing the drone's manual, putting it down only to make minor course corrections. As they approached Dublin she donned her disguise. "Remember, we're from Nice, not Geneva," reminded Regina before greeting the customs official. But Angelica needed no reminder, slipping easily back into the wealthy playgirl role. Regina was growing more and more confident that Angelica would do fine on her own.

After checking into the most expensive suites available at the Merrion—necessary to maintain their cover—Regina unloaded the trunk that the bellhops had brought up with their luggage. Several hours later, during which time Angelica had spent seeing the city, Regina had the drone fully assembled. However, it would take the entire next day to modify the drone for its new task.

Regina heard the secret knock that they had arranged—"thump-THUMP-tha-thump" for "An-GEL-i-ca"—and she opened the door. Angelica breezed in, her hands full with shopping bags. She handed the bag from the nearest Three Store to Regina saying "Here's the smart phone you asked for."

Regina opened up the box, pried the phone apart and inspected its innards. "This is perfect, thanks. Tomorrow we'll hit the electronics stores," she said as she opened her laptop.

An email from Markus was waiting for her. Regina was relieved that her prediction that Markus would be picked up first had not come true. There was no text, only links to stories on La Repubblica and the Corriere della Sera. Regina clicked on the first link and an article on her chase through Rome came up on the screen. She clicked on the second link and a much shorter article came up, this one on an unannounced visit to Bolzano by the Grand Marshal of Eidelmark. Regina smiled to herself. That mysterious phone call had indeed been from Interpol—possibly from Brickelstein himself—and Brickelstein did rush immediately to Lake Caldaro as Regina had expected. This is going to be so much fun, she thought to herself. She replied using the same code she had used to contact Marcelo. "Sorry you're in trouble," she wrote, meaning Glad you're okay. "Don't send any more of these,"—Keep sending them. "Can you leave Cuxhaven on Saturday"—Can you arrive in Cuxhaven on Wednesday—"with 20 litres unleaded petrol?"