Amber Room

Author: Baoli
Publisher:
Publish Date: 2006-07-01
Features: Stood at 12:45, Nor threw his travel bag on the bed, and surveyed the small hotel room. It was a five-story building, half of it was wooden, and the inside was filled with a musty smell, a bit like a hospital. He specifically chose a room on the third floor facing the street, from which he could see the luxurious garden opposite. He didn’t care about the environment, only the location. Because the hotel was directly across from the Cany Hotel, and Walden McCoy and his companions lived on the entire fourth floor of that hotel. He got this information from a staff member at the town travel agency who was very eager to join the McCoy excavation team. He also told Nor that a group of visitors would arrive tomorrow, and the Cany Hotel had no vacancies left, so the remaining people were arranged in two other hotels. "This is good for business," the staff member said. This also indirectly helped Nor, as there was nothing easier to spot than a group of people. He unzipped his suitcase and took out an electric razor. He was too tired yesterday, and Susanna had given him a good scolding. Maybe now Ernest Lorraine was smugly thinking about how she had lured him into that mine. But why kill him? Their previous struggles had never been this life-or-death, what had become the trigger? What was so important that it had to involve Ya Chabaye, himself, and Rachel Cutler dying? The Amber Room? Maybe. Of course, more investigation was necessary. Once the task here was completed, he wanted to start the investigation immediately. He had spent a long time driving from Füssen to Stood. The Munich newspapers had already reported the explosion at the Harz Mine yesterday, mentioning Rachel Cutler and her rescue, but there wasn’t much information about him, only that they were searching for an unidentified white man. The rescue team had no hope. Obviously, Rachel had informed the authorities about his situation. The police would track him down to the information about him and Rachel staying at Golden Crown. This could be a police setup. But it didn’t matter, he hadn’t broken the law, so why would the police arrest him? Everyone knew he was scared and had decided to leave the town after nearly dying. Rachel Cutler was still alive, she must be on her way back to the United States, her German trip was a terrible memory. Back in her big city, she would continue to be a judge. Her father’s wish to find the Amber Room would also be impossible. He had already showered in the morning but hadn’t shaved yet. His chin and neck felt like sandpaper, itching terribly. After shaving, he took out a revolver from the bottom of his suitcase. He gently stroked the smooth barrel and then gripped it, pulling the trigger. It weighed 35 pounds, and it was one of the CZ-75B series pistols produced by Ernest Lorraine, given to him as a gift. "I’ve extended the magazine to fifty rounds," Lorraine said as he handed it to him, "Unlike the standard ten-round magazines, it’s the same as our original design. I remember you mentioned you didn’t like anything less than ten rounds. And I’ve had it modified to be foldable for easy carrying. This change has been applied to all weapons." Lorraine’s factory was the largest micro-weapon manufacturer in Eastern Europe and a legend in their craftsmanship. Due to the Iron Curtain policy, along with high tariffs and strict export restrictions, the Western market had only recently been fully opened to them. Fearn had allowed him to carry firearms, and he greatly appreciated this. "I’ve installed a suppressor on the barrel," Lorraine said, "Susanna’s gun is the same too. I think you’ll both like this arrangement. You could say, the competition is fair." He screwed the suppressor onto the muzzle and loaded a fresh magazine. Yes, he loved this arrangement. He threw the gun onto the bed and picked up the razor again. On his way to the bathroom, he paused in front of the room’s only window. The entrance to the Cany Hotel opposite, with marble columns flanking each bronze door along the street side. Six shops lined the street. He knew the Cany was the most upscale hotel in town. Obviously, Walden McCoy liked the best. At the same time, when he checked in, he also learned that the Cany had the largest restaurant and the best conference room, both essential conditions for the expedition team. The staff at the Kristinhof Hotel were delighted; they wouldn’t have to deal with the endless demands of such a large crowd anymore. Seeing this, he smiled. The difference between capitalism and Eastern European socialism was so vast; in the United States, hotel owners would fight over a deal. He looked out at the black railings outside the window, the afternoon sky was overcast, and a dark cloud was gathering from the north. As he knew, the members of the expedition team would return to the hotel around six o’clock every day. Then he would start his real work, using the time when they ate at the Cany to gather information. He peered out at the street, scanning the first street, then the second, and suddenly his gaze fell on a woman crossing the sidewalk. Brown hair, a pretty face, dressed very simply, with a leather bag slung over her right shoulder. Susanna! Susanna! The tall bell tower of the abbey seemed to lean forward slightly, bending inward in a gentle curve, with a balcony facing the west between the two yellow twin towers. She couldn’t help but imagine monks and nuns coming here to seek divine teachings. "God’s Fortress," she recalled how medieval historians had referred to this place. Replacing it with amber, inlaid with white marble on the exterior, and topped with a reddish-brown roof—how fitting. Amber… maybe a sign. If she didn’t believe in everything, she might as well trust her intuition. She could have noticed it, but at that moment, her only focus was that she was being watched. Walden McCoy was certainly interested. But someone else was searching and watching here too. Where? Along the narrow street were hundreds of windows, countless shops. The cobblestone path was crowded with people. He could be disguised, or standing a hundred meters away on a bridge, overlooking them. In the midday sun, she could only make out his silhouette, while the tourists were enjoying the beautiful scenery before them. Nothing happened. She turned and walked to the Cany Hotel. She went to the front desk and said to the receptionist in German, "I’d like to leave a message for Alfred Greymore." "Okay," the receptionist handed her a note. She wrote, "Ten o’clock tonight, I’ll be at St. Gerhard Church. Please meet me there, Margaret." She folded the note. She smiled and gave him five euros as a tip. Nor stood in the Kristinhof lobby, cautiously looking out at the street. He noticed Susanna stopping and looking around less than a hundred meters away. Had she noticed him? She was right, her intuition was very sharp. Nor greatly admired Jung’s metaphor, that ancient people saw women as Eve, Helen, Sophia, or Mary, equating these four with symbols of impulse, emotion, wisdom, and morality. Susanna possessed the first three qualities but lacked morality. She also had other traits—danger. But her defenses might have weakened, thinking he was already dead in a mine forty kilometers away. He hoped Franz had told Lorraine that his whereabouts were still unknown. This would give him time to investigate the matter. More importantly, it would give him time to decide the score with Susanna. What was she doing here? Walking in and out in public, heading straight for the Cany Hotel. McCoy setting up the excavation headquarters in Stood and housing his team in that hotel was purely a coincidence. Was she informed about this excavation? Even if so, it wasn’t anything special. In previous excavations, he had also arranged similar informants, allowing Fearn to always get a taste of the profits. Expedition diggers usually sold at least a portion of their finds on the black market, as people believed these items had already scattered. Both buyers and sellers were adept at high bids, as the items were considered lost. This also helped avoid unnecessary government interference and confiscation. The German government was famous for confiscating underground unclaimed wealth. Strict reporting systems and hefty fines strictly controlled those who acted illegally. But human greed always prevails, and it could be exploited, so he had made several good deals with a few less-wise treasure hunters, enriching Fearn’s private collection. It started to drizzle, and umbrellas opened one after another. Thunder rumbled in the distance. Susanna came out of the Cany. Nor retreated to the window, praying she wouldn’t come over. The Kristinhof Hotel had no place to hide. When Susanna pulled up her collar and walked down the street, he breathed a long sigh of relief. He walked to the front door, cautiously looking outside. Susanna entered another hotel, the sign outside reading "Gerber." Centuries of pressure had caused the facade of the hotel to sag. He had passed by it on his way to the Kristinhof. It was the right place for her to stay, nearby, very convenient. He retreated to the lobby and continued to observe from the window, trying not to attract too much attention from the few loiterers nearby. Fifteen minutes passed, and she didn’t appear. He smiled. This confirmed it. P142-145