Corridor One

Corridor One

  Rafael H. Derchansky

  Copyright 2015 by Rafael H. Derchansky

  Published by: Rafael H. Derchansky

  This eBook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This eBook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review or scholarly journal. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your enjoyment only, then please return to your favorite retailer and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  First Printing: 2015, ISBN 978-0-9940642-2-6

  https://www.rhdera.com

  Dedication

  This book is dedicated to Mikhail Derchansky and Jacob Kogan who taught me the true values in life, and to their grandchildren Miron, Issack, Iris, Efrat, Yanir and Adam. It is my hope that they will carry the legacy of their grandfathers in their hearts forever.

  Contents

  Acknowledgements

  Prologue

  Roman’s Diary

  Kerzhak Navigation

  Company Team

  Yellow Raincoat

  Twin Crowns

  Investigation

  Chapter without a Name

  Catacombs

  SHOMEA-1

  Geneva

  Surprise

  Victor

  Action Plan

  Underground Walk

  Diamonds

  Freedom

  We are Survivors

  About the Author

  Connect with Rafael H. Derchansky

  Acknowledgements

  Only now, after having completed this book and as I go through my manuscript before its publication, do I fully understand the value and the great amount work that was done by my many supporters and editors.

  I am extremely grateful to Edith Krohmalnik, a student at the Faculty of English at the University of Toronto who took the first crack at more than 21 parts of this text and always found the time to edit between her exams.

  My gratitude extends to Genya Ryzhik, professor of English at Humber College, who thoroughly went through the manuscript page by page, line by line, word by word, marking it with her red pen.

  I am also sincerely thankful to Inbal Solomon and Mila Teovanovic for providing invaluable feedback and support, and for spending countless hours with me and the many characters you are about to meet.

  Lastly, I thank my family, who helped turn my dream into a reality by editing and proofreading, followed by more editing. To them goes my love and deepest appreciation. This book could never become a reality without their support. Thank you.

  Prologue

  "It took me a long ten months to restore all of the memories. Ten months, day and night – especially at night – lying in bed and trying to recreate what happened more than twenty years ago. Picture after picture. Faces, one after another. My brain jumped from one event to another without any logical explanation or connection. One second I was in one place; the next second I was months, or even years away from the memories I had just recalled.

  I was trying to restore all I could remember, bringing new and once forgotten details to light. Frame by frame, I returned to the beginning of my story, restoring faces, places, events and conversations. Where does reality end and fantasy begin? Was it really me? Is it all a part of my imagination? I am correcting myself, hoping that my memories are stored and therefore become real.

  And now, after ten months of torture, I am finally ready to write it down and examine it slowly, surely and in great detail.”

  “From the day you're born, till the day you die

  You’re learning how to survive

  Surviving loneliness and cold

  Surviving love and getting old

  Oh, what better reason to survive

  Than to live a sparkling, joyful life”

  Tamara

  Roman’s Diary

  Dina woke up, sensing that the airplane was in descent. A short glance at her watch revealed that she had been in the air for thirteen hours. A long flight. Thanks to the comfort of business class and the sleeping pill she'd taken, the time had passed quickly. She had never been a big fan of business class and preferred to travel in coach with ‘real’ people, observing different behaviors, having conversations, making new friends. But this was a long flight, and she wanted it to pass quickly and forget all the unpleasant client meetings from last week. The pilot announced the estimated landing time and expressed his gratitude to all the passengers for flying with his airline. Dina began preparing her passport and customs documents, which a flight attendant had left neatly on her tray table while Dina slept.

  The plane landed and the long walk to customs slowly brought her back to reality. She checked her cell phone for messages and started planning the work to be done on the weekend. Today was Friday and the day was already planned. She tried to remember where she’d left the documents in her apartment before her departure a week ago. The customs line was relatively short, and not having a chained briefcase attached to her left hand or rolling behind her with important artifacts would make getting through customs a piece of cake.

  "Good morning, Miss Greduer. How was your flight? Anything to declare?"

  The voice of the customs officer grounded her, and she answered politely, "The flight was okay, thank you for asking. And no, nothing to declare today."

  The officer smiled at her. "Have a great day, Miss Greduer. Say hello to your team for me.”

  "I will. Good day to you too."

  Since when did my team become so popular?

  She moved quickly toward the airport exit, straight to her usual pickup spot, having to artfully maneuver between people, luggage and ‘welcome home’ signs.

  The sun was shining and today, April 15th, was a perfect spring day. She stopped, took out her sunglasses from her briefcase and looked around from right to left. She found her driver standing near a shining black limousine.

  "Good morning, Ma'am. " As she neared the limo, the driver opened the door, and Dina found herself in a comfortable seat with a fresh air-conditioned breeze blowing against her face.

  "Good morning.”

  "How was your flight? Where are we going? Office? Home?"

  The moment her brain recognized the word ‘office’, Dina’s eyes reflectively scanned her dress, looking for perfection. Shoes, okay. Pants, okay. Shirt, okay. Hands, okay; then she stopped. No way am I going to the office now.

  "Please go home and stop near a grocery store. I think I need milk.”

  "Will do," was the short reply from the limo driver.

  The car slowly moved out of the parking space and within two minutes, was on the highway, racing home toward Dina’s regular duties as the owner and executive of MirexGlobe.

  It took more than twenty minutes for the limo to get to the back door of her condo building, the usual spot Dina used to get into the lobby. During the ride home, she concentrated on reading the messages left by her staff over the last two days. Even when the driver stopped near the grocery store and went in to buy her milk and bread, her eyes were glued to the screen.

  Her small business was her entire life. She had established MirexGlobe approximately seven years ago, two years after graduating from university, and it had taken her a good five years to build her reputation as the top expert in her field. Throughout all of these years, she could still hear her father saying, “We are here to survive, and we will do what it takes to survive. We are survivors. “

  Dina was an expert in forge
ry investigation. Her clients comprised private individuals, governments, affluent businessmen, auction-houses and sometimes, people with a ‘shady’ past. Her company had three employees and MirexGlobe was careful to avoid court appearances at all costs. Her contracts always highlighted that her job ended with sharing a proof of forgery or authenticity; she always came up with solid evidence but never agreed to court or committee appearances.

  On her ride home, she found about a dozen envelopes in a cardboard box left on the seat of the limo. Some of these were from clients, which she left to her assistant, Tamara. Some were from Gregory, her chemical and compound analyst, and probably concerned the final results of his investigations. She marked these as 'Need to Read'. One of the documents was from Igor, her day-to-day detective, whom she jokingly called 'Igor Holmes', which described a series of pictures he had analyzed for a case they were slated to present to a client next week.

  The door of the limo opened, and she pushed the box of envelopes away as she slid out of her car seat, feeling some pain in her back. Possibly from sitting too much on the plane or from being in an uncomfortable position in the limo she thought.

  "Miss Greduer, do you want your luggage in your suite or should I leave it with the concierge?" asked her driver.

  "Leave it with the concierge please – they know what to do with it. Thank you for a quiet ride. Tell your boss to include your tip in the bill as usual, and please take the envelopes I left on the car seat to my office.”

  "Will do, Miss Greduer. I highly appreciate it. Have a great evening.”

  The limo moved away slowly from the back entrance as Dina stepped into the lobby, hoping to get into the shower as soon as possible. Her luggage had already been brought in by the concierge, who waited near the door.

  "Miss Greduer, luggage as usual?"

  "Yes. The green bag to the laundry, and the rest, please bring into my suite. And thank you for watering my plants. “

  "No problem. Your mail is on the kitchen table. By the way, Miss Greduer, you had a visitor come in looking for you three times this week.”

  "A nice young man on a white horse?" Dina smiled.

  "Not really. He was young but he rode the bus every time. I told him that you were away as per your directions, but I did not tell him when you were coming back, as you requested. He was persistent and waited for an hour every visit, and he left an envelope with me on his last visit. I put it with all your mail on the table. “

  "Great job. Did they fix my elevator?"

  "Not sure. One second,” He reviewed the log file for a minute. “No, sorry. They're still working on it. It says that they ordered the parts and they'll be here on Wednesday. Could you please sign this form, to allow the technician to enter your suite if you’re not home?"

  “No problem,” said Dina, and signed the form. "Thank you.” She stepped through the doors of the public elevator, wondering why the hell she was paying extra money to have a private elevator that was not working half the time.

  The condo lights were turned on and the city looked grey and boring from the twelfth floor. Dina looked around, put her briefcase and laptop on a table, and moved to the bedroom, removing her shoes on the way to a long-awaited shower.

  Her happiness was cut short by the loud ‘you-must-answer’ ring of her phone, which she answered in her underwear and bra.

  "Hello, Dina. “

  "Is it you, Holmes? Leave me alone. I’m on my way to take a shower."

  "Wait, Dina. I know you read my report. What are your thoughts?"

  "Igor – I’m your boss and I’m telling you to call me in an hour or call Tamara, please. I’m as dirty as a pig."

  "Dina, the dress is authentic; the fabric is from the 17th century. The dirt in the pockets is also from the right region in Holland, I checked with Gregory; everything points to us dealing with the authentic clothing of a King."

  "You aren't listening – call me back in an hour, and if you're wrong, I'll remove the Munich museum’s commission from your fat monthly paycheck. Am I clear? To be even more specific, you have an hour to check the small rip I saw in your photograph of the dress near the left pocket. Do a spectrum analysis, and tell me when and how it was ripped. Are we on the same page?"

  "Dina, go take a shower. I’ll call you in an hour. "The line went silent, Dina left the phone handle off the hook and with a smile and a little dance, moved through the shower door.

  Dina showered quickly, put the phone back on the hook, and a short while later, blues music sounded from the bedroom as she half sat, half lay on the sofa. Blues always made her feel both relaxed and charged with energy. At work, the sound of blues was a necessity; it helped her concentrate and do things efficiently. She could not explain this phenomenon.

  It took exactly one hour for the phone to jump back to life with its Brrrrrrr sound. Igor Holmes was on the line, and she could guess from his greeting and his tone that something was wrong.

  "Take my paycheck and burn it."

  "What's wrong?" asked Dina.

  "I don't know how you do it, but either I’m an idiot or you're a genius. I checked the rip that you mentioned again. It came from a sharp object. Any object can do it and I’ve verified that the rip is indeed one hundred and fifty years old. But when I put a needle under the rip to bring it closer to the microscope, I noticed a small amount of a white residue. I asked Gregory to have the powder analyzed, and guess what he found? It's twentieth century laundry detergent! That’s quite surprising since this dress had supposedly been in a museum for a hundred and thirty-five years, under a glass cover with humidity control. Like I said, you’re either a genius, or I'm an idiot for having missed this,” Igor almost screamed.

  "Relax, you're not an idiot. We're just dealing with very smart people."

  "I need to redo all the work from the beginning – except now I need to prove the opposite.”

  "Relax, Igor. Ask Tamara to give me a call please, as soon as possible."

  "Okay. Ciao."

  Dina thought for a moment as she moved from the sofa to the kitchen table. She poured herself a glass of water and went back to the sofa. It took almost ten minutes before Tamara rang.

  "Welcome back. I guess our quiet life is over. It’s 10pm and I’m calling you, as per your request. "

  "Hi to you too, Tamara. We don't have time, sorry. The Munich museum is going to pay a quarter of a million Marks to the Japanese for a forgery. Call the Japanese seller and inform him that we know this is a fake and that we will report our findings to Munich immediately after we end the call with him. However, because we are professionals and as we know how important his reputation is in this small, tight-knit community, gently suggest to the seller that should he choose, for a small lump-sum payment of $100,000, we’ll be willing to postpone the delivery of our report by 24 hours. This should give him ample time to cancel the sale, withdraw the forgery, save face with Munich and trigger the ‘exit clause’ in our very own contract with Munich, by which we will no longer be required to share the results of our analysis. The secret will be safe. "

  "Wait, Dina. That's twice the price we are charging Munich!"

  "Yes, and if they won’t agree, we will send the report to Munich immediately and the Japanese seller will be shut out of the trading world forever.”

  "Okay. Sometimes it's difficult for me to change sides, but I agree with you.”

  "Tamara, remember, we don’t take sides. Our job is only to verify and analyze.”

  "Okay, okay. Do it your way. Good night, Dina. See you tomorrow at the office.”

  "Good night.”

  As Dina replayed her conversation with Tamara, she smiled, and made herself comfortable on the sofa, soaking in the jazzy sounds of the blues.

  We are here to survive and we will do what it takes to survive. We are survivors.

  Dina's eyes closed slowly as jet lag took hold. From the moment she sat comfortably on the sofa, the glass of water in her hand felt as if it weighed ten kilos. She knew wha
t to do; it had happened many times already. She needed to put the glass back on the kitchen table, otherwise she would wake up tomorrow in a pile of water or, even worse, a puddle of water would appear all over the Persian carpet that she so adored. Overcoming the unusual heaviness, she stood up and moved slowly toward the kitchen table, her left hand rubbing her eyes to keep them open. She smiled, covering a distance of two meters before landing in a kitchen chair. Mission accomplished. She smiled again as her eyes met the pile of mail left on the kitchen table by the concierge. Her smile disappeared. She cursed and took a minute to think of what would happen if she opened the mail tomorrow.

  She could, but what if some mail was work related? The weekend would go to waste. As she was searching for a compromise, her eyes slowly closed again. Okay, she decided, I'll open some of the mail now. She slowly moved the pile of letters and magazines toward her body and, with only one eye open, started to separate magazines from letters.

  The process was easy; magazines were pushed to the end of the table and landed on the floor, a kind of childish game that gave her some satisfaction. Letters went to the right side of the table, and she smiled again. There weren't so many. There were two big envelopes, one brown, one white, and a dozen regular ones, some from the bank, some from the cable company, and one or two advertisements. She huffed and pushed them from the table. She smiled again as the falling envelopes reached the floor, and the sound of it made her feel like a little girl again. She experienced happiness not only from the process, but also from her sleepy condition – I’m Superwoman, I’m a robot – and she smiled again, a happy smile.

  She stopped for a second and started to open envelopes one by one. An invoice for the dishwasher repair. A cable bill. An electricity bill. An invitation to her condo Board meeting – these letters flew directly to the floor. In three minutes all the small envelopes were open and sorted. Now it was time for the big ones. She placed all the envelopes into a single pile, knowing that the first white envelope was the court invitation she had been awaiting for over a month. Some of her clients insisted on seeing her give a testimony in court even though she would never dream of such a thing. She would even go as far as having her clients sign a contract attesting never to invite her to court, but some tried their luck. From time to time she got phone calls from court clerks and follow-up letters. The first white envelop parachuted to the floor, joining the others, producing again the noise of happiness.

  Dina looked at the brown envelope with one eye open and slowly, like in a dream, read its inscription.

  Dina, I'll be in town next week. Hope to see you, R.

  Slowly, she opened her second eye. Her facial expression turned to surprise and curiosity took hold. A handwritten greeting with no return address and no stamps. It had been a while since Dina had received handwritten greetings in large mysterious envelopes. It got her attention. She hesitated. Open it now, or do it in the morning? The size of the envelope was also suspicious. Something big was inside. She took it in her hand and flipped it over several times.

  Dina, I'll be in town next week.

  Analyzing items around her had become second nature. Even though the handwritten sentence was short, she was certain that it had been written by a man. The brown colour of the envelope indicated that it was from a convenience store; their big brown envelopes were made from cheap recycled papers. The envelope had a visible line in the middle, telling Dina it had been bent, probably for the convenience of transfer.

  She became irritated by all the thoughts going through her head and stood up from the kitchen table, ready to finally move into the bedroom. As she got up, her right foot slid on top of the papers on the floor. On the verge of losing her balance, she grabbed the top of the kitchen table with both hands. Scared and shocked into instantaneous alertness, she realized that the brown envelope was in close proximity of her face.

  "Damn you,” she said out loud. She never had been superstitious. “Okay, fine. I'll see what you have inside,” she said in mock exasperation.

  She took the letter opener that she had used for all of the other letters and ripped the brown envelope open, lifting it up from the corner, waiting to see what would come out. A bunch of letter-size pages, around 30 to 40 held together with a metal clip, fell out. Dina recognized that the larger pages were photocopies of the smaller originals that they were clipped to.

  The color of the originals was dark yellow with horizontal blue lines. They looked like standard banknotes. She needed more light to recognize what was written on them, but even without light she was able to see that they were handwritten in blue, or maybe black, ink.

  As she moved towards the kitchen dimmer switch, she caught a brief glance at the wall clock and noticed that it was quarter after eleven. Dina turned the dimmer all the way up and the kitchen became instantly brighter. She was back in the kitchen, this time carefully going around the papers on the floor. Now, with all of the pot-lights working to their maximum, the kitchen table looked as if it was under a projector, thanks to the extra light Dina had installed when she moved into the condo six years ago.

  She sat comfortably on a chair and began browsing through the first page, slowly going to the middle of the pile, then to the end and back to the beginning again. She noticed that the handwritten letters became smaller and smaller as she moved from the first page to the last. Towards the end, the writing was so small that the last page alone probably contained the same amount of written lines as all the ten previous pages combined. The colour of the ink was also alternating between dark blue and black and sometimes red, and she noticed that some paragraphs and even pages were written with a pencil. The handwriting seemed like that of a child, and she wasn’t sure whether it was a boy or a girl. Some lines were written under intense pressure, making words and sentences jump over the blue horizontal lines of the page.

  For some unknown reason, Dina got a warm feeling holding the papers in her hands. She didn't understand why, but she was now ready, with some surprising pleasure, to read the first page. She felt a familiar feeling just holding these pages in her hands. Something warm and homey.

  Dina stood up, opened the refrigerator, and tried to find the energy drink that she usually had well-stocked in her fridge. Tonight, it seemed she was fresh out of this staple. Coming back to her seat and taking a small sip from the glass of water on the table, she brought the first page close to her face and began to read.

  Today is day one and I have my fresh diary, given to me by my dad. Today he informed us – me and Dina - that we are going to move again.

  Dina's hand, the one holding the page, began to tremble. She opened her eyes wider and read the first line again. Shock raced down her spine. She felt like she was sitting on ice – her entire body went cold. Her vision blurred. She knew she was going to faint if she didn't change her sitting position. She stood up fast, as fast as she could, as if somebody had poked her behind with a needle. With the sudden change of position, she felt a loss of energy and power, but her brain moved into a defensive mode as she fought to regain consciousness. She took the glass of water again and emptied it.

  No, it's not possible, was the first thought that went through her head. It's not possible. It can't be real.

  She took the envelope in her hands from where she had dropped it in her state of shock and read it again.

  “Hope to see you, R.”

  If it was a miracle, then R might've stood for Roman, her only older brother, from whom she’d been separated twenty years ago. She remembered the evening when their father told them they needed to move yet again. She did not remember that they moved before, but she'd only been six, and she could still clearly remember the pretty doll that their father had given her, and the diary he had given Roman. It was his way of consoling his children for their upcoming move to a new place, to new friends and to new environments. Roman was happy and smiled at his father's gift; he was nine years old at the time, and he'd wanted a diary for a while.

  Dina
decided to take a quick break before going back to reading. She refilled her glass with cold water, took a sip, and sat back down, still shaky and weak, feeling heavy and nervous. One part of her wanted to continue reading, but the other part was scared and shocked by the sudden resurgence of the sibling from whom she’d been separated. Her eyes watered, and tears came down her cheeks, from sadness and from happiness. She may have found her brother again, and this hope drove her back to the page resting in front of her on the table.

  She took a deep breath and continued reading.

  It was our third move in two years.

  Dina stopped reading. She didn’t remember any other moves. Even this one was hazy in her mind. But maybe… She had been only six years old. Maybe.

  Dad told us, “We will be moving in the evening.” Dina was sleeping when dad told me the car was waiting outside and asked me to move quietly so we wouldn’t wake our neighbors. Dad took Dina into his arms and we slowly moved through the building’s corridor toward the first back door of the first floor where a small minivan was waiting. We had only one briefcase, and dad had his usual backpack that he always carried on his shoulder.

  Dina stopped reading again. She recalled dad's backpack, but now it was clear why she didn't recall the move – she'd been asleep.

  The car took us to the train station. We traveled three days and three nights and changed trains three times. I lost track of all direction, and when I asked dad where we were going, he answered with a smile, “You'll see, Roman. You'll see.”

  Dina stood up. Three days and three nights. She remembered something. Yes, the train stopped sometimes for half an hour, and dad would jump onto the platform and buy cartons of fresh berries from the local women who were always there to serve the travelers.

  Some images flittered through Dina's mind, and an idea came to her. She stood up and started to open several shelves on her work desk, looking for a notepad she could write on. She decided to compare her memories to the ones written in the diary. This way, she believed, the entire memory could be recorded and complement Roman's notes. She imagined that the photocopied pages were of Roman's actual diary notes. This is good. This is great.

  After our long journey, we found ourselves in the middle of nowhere! Dina was annoying and asked dad to go to the washroom every hour. When we finally got off the train, the only thing we saw were a few houses, a water tower, and the station house, all surrounded by a green forest. Dad mentioned that somebody was coming to pick us up and bring us to our new home. It took around one hour or maybe two before a small green car showed up on the road, creating a big dust cloud behind. The car sounded very loud and Dina was scared.

  Yes, Dina did remember the green car. She'd been behind her dad holding his leg when the car pulled up near the station house and one big, dirty man came out, shook dad's hand, and helped him with their briefcase.

  “Our new home" is actually one room, with no kitchen and no washroom. To pee, we need to go outside. We are in a village. It has forty similar houses. I counted on the second day we arrived. It has one small store with nothing in it. One day each week, a green car brings bread and some cans with food from the store. The local people are nice. We don't have school. When I asked dad where the school is, he said we are going to have our regular classes at home. He will be our teacher and our mentor.

  Dina took a pen and marked “Memory #1” on the top line of the page and started writing: “The village people were nice to our family; it took less than one week for Roman and I to make some friends. Roman was popular among the local boys. He was tall and could match anybody his age in physical prowess. I had two girlfriends, Anna and Maia, who became my childhood best friends.” Dina stopped and went back to Roman's diary.

  Dad found a job at the local repair shop. He can repair any small item, from watches to sewing machines. He also volunteered to teach math and physics to the local children from the ages of eight to sixteen.

  Dina smiled and “Memory #2” appeared in the middle of the page: “I recall the evening classes dad taught in our room. I wasn't allowed to participate and was supposed to sit outside or in the corner of the room, and when he asked questions, I always knew the answers and tried to show off. It was easy for me; I had a good memory and tried to please dad, but he always looked to the others for the answers and gestured me to keep quiet with his hand.”

  Finished, Dina started reading again.

  Summer was fun. Winter was difficult, cold and boring. Two years passed and Dina joined our class in the evening. She finally got a chance to answer dad's questions. This girl was a big show off! During last winter, we started having family time every Friday. Dad usually tried to come home early from his repair shop and we didn't have any classes on Fridays. Some days we were lucky and dad had some sweets for us too. I have no idea where and how he would manage to get them in our village.

  Dina smiled again. She wrote down “Memory #3”. She knew where dad was getting his sweets. One Friday, she spied on him and saw him going into Aunt Bronia's house on the outskirts of the village. Aunt Bronia would cook sweets using berries and birch tree juice, which locals collected in the spring. Dina would be in heaven when dad held all of the sweets in the big palms of his hands. Hands she adored so much. She also remembered a big, ten-inch pink scar on his left hand. The scar she loved to touch and stroke.

  Our family time, Dina continued reading, involved a tradition of sitting on the floor in front of the iron wood heater, with dad telling funny stories and Dina and I adding our own details, and even telling our own stories once in a while. Dad taught us to value our family. He repeatedly said to us “We are survivors”.

  One Friday, a strange event took place as we were sitting and waiting for dad to come home. He was late and I started to worry. Where was he? It took an hour before the door opened and he entered the room completely covered with snow.

  When I asked him what had happened, he mumbled something, took off his coat, dusted off the snow and sat near me with a big smile. “Today I'm going to show you something important,” he said, and he smiled again. “But before I show you, you must promise me it will be our family secret. Do you agree?" Dina and I did. “Ok,” dad continued, “it is our top and most important secret. Nobody should know about it, okay?" We agreed again. He put his hand into his jacket pocket and took out a green leather package the size of his palm, tied up with the same green leather string on top. It looked heavy and massive in the strong open palm of his hand.

  Dina stopped reading and closed her eyes. A memory unfolded like an old picture. A warm stream of air brushed against her shoulder, coming directly from the burning wood in her fireplace. She was there with Roman and dad and the green package in dad's left palm. She was scared. She opened her eyes fast and stared for a second at the same point on the yellow page, knowing it was real and true – he may very well be alive. She recognized it was late, and outside, the city was already sleeping. The street lights, a stark contrast to the dark sky, looked like fishing net from her condo. The odd cars were still moving, disturbing the perfect harmony. It was after 1 a.m. but Dina's sleepiness and jet lag disappeared. She filled her glass with water again and sat up again, ready to read.

  Dad lifted the green package from his left hand and gently put it on the carpet. He opened it slowly, removing the green string and placing the content of the package in the center of his palm.

  Dina closed her eyes again, and the light from the burning wood struck the middle of the package directly, illuminating her face a thousand times stronger than normal light because of the package's contents.

  I asked dad what it was. He smiled. “They are diamonds, my children. The most precious and expensive stones in the world.” Dad closed the bag slowly and explained. “We are rich, you are rich. We are very rich, but nobody should know about it until we get out of this village. I wanted to show you so that you know that I am taking care of our future. If something happens to me, you are protected. In the spring, I
'll show you where I'm hiding these diamonds. If something happen to me you will know how to get them. You understand? Both of you. They’re yours. I'll tell you stories about diamonds next week, but remember our secret.”

  We had a number of Fridays when dad told Dina and me strange stories about the origins of diamonds, about foreign countries and how diamonds are made. But when I asked him where the diamonds came from, he changed the subject and became uncomfortable with the conversations.

  Winter brought the inevitable cold, snow and games on the frozen lake. Our classes continued in the evening. Dina grew up and stopped annoying me and my friends. I love her very much and will kill anybody who harms her.

  A single tear ran over Dina's cheek and spilled onto the page.

  Dina wrote: “Secret #1.”After dad showed us the diamonds, Roman and I discussed, many times, what we would do when we got out of the village. Roman wanted to become a history professor, and I wanted to be an art expert. We would sell the diamonds and build two houses beside each other and never separate. Suddenly, dad was required to go to the village commandant and sign some papers every day after his work. I think it was done to make sure he would never leave the village unnoticed. Dad kept his promise, and in early May, he took Roman and me to the field across the river. We passed some storage buildings, and walked directly to our neighbor Alex's small and rusted hunting cabin. There, under the wooden floor, dad was hiding our treasure. He put the green package in a metal container and covered it with soil. That entire summer we visited the cabin four times, twice with dad and twice without. To train us in fetching the diamonds, dad requested we go alone, to bring the package back home without him, being careful to never get noticed by the village people.

  Dina looked at a wall clock and noticed it was 4 a.m. already.

  She decided to go to bed and try to get three to four hours of sleep before going to the office. It was a regular habit for her and Tamara to get together on Saturdays to review the previous week’s activities and to plan for the week ahead. This typically lasted two to three hours.

  Falling asleep was hard once she was in bed, though. Thoughts about Roman's diary dragged her deeper and deeper into her memories. Ten minutes after she'd gone to bed, she reached for her cell phone and texted Tamara. Meeting for tomorrow morning cancelled, will keep you posted. She felt some relief, closed her eyes and drifted far away from reality.

  The phone ringing sounded far away, and Dina, in her half-asleep state, wanted to ignore it, but instinctively reached out for it and answered, “Hello?"

  Tamara was on the other line, her voice alarmingly worried. “What's going on? Are you okay? Do you want me to come see you? What's wrong?" she almost yelled.

  Dina tried to hold in her hysterical laughter. She had never heard Tamara panicking, and for some reason it was very funny. “Relax, Tamara. I am okay; I simply need to get myself together after a long flight and a very short, relaxing night.”

  "Oh, yes,” replied Tamara, whose voice was both relieved and berating. “And do I know this somebody who's helping you get a 'short, relaxing night'? Yesterday evening you were all geared up to get back to work, and now you're texting me at 4 a.m. canceling one of the most important meetings in the week? I know it's not my business, but regardless, who is the man who's interrupting our regular schedule? I don't like it!" Her voice sounded very serious, even aggressive.

  “Tamara,” replied Dina, “No man and no woman for now. I'll explain on Sunday, okay? Move our meeting to Sunday, 10 a.m. Do you have anything planned for Sunday?"

  “Me?" snapped Tamara. “No, I don't have any plans, I don't need to go to my kid’s soccer game, I don't need to host a family dinner with my in-laws, and I don't need to explain to my husband why I'm working for a crazy boss like you. But I'll be there anyway, and you’d better have a good reason for rescheduling.” It was quiet for about ten seconds, and then she continued. “Sorry, Dina. I was worried. Sorry again. It'll never happen again, I promise.”

  Now Dina burst out laughing, loudly, and sent three kisses to Tamara. “I love you Tamara. I'm your boss, but I'm your friend as well, so sometimes on the weekends when we are alone, I do give you permission to scream at me. Now, I have to go. I need to do some reading. See you tomorrow.” Dina's voice returned to her regular confident, managing tone, and Tamara understood she needed to hang up and let Dina go. A short goodbye from both sides concluded the conversation.

  Dina felt she was wide awake, and she jumped quickly from the bed and rushed to the washroom.

  At 10 a.m. Dina was ready to get back to reading. A short breakfast, a cup of coffee and a good mood propelled her onwards. Looking from the dining room at the kitchen table, surrounded by all the papers, Dina felt extremely positive. The possibility of reuniting with her brother, a hope she had lost many years ago, was back and more powerful than ever. She put her hand on the brown envelope, which promised I'll be in town next week.

  Dina decided to go down to the concierge and ask him about the mystery man who delivered the envelope. She took the envelope and automatically went to her private elevator before remembering that it wasn't working. She left her apartment and went out to the public elevator. When she got downstairs, the same concierge from yesterday evening was sitting near the security monitors. Noticing Dina approaching his desk, he stood up and greeted her with a wide smile.

  “Good morning! How can I help you?"

  “Good morning.” Dina smiled. “Do you remember the man who delivered these envelopes to you? You mentioned he was here several times. “

  “Yes, twice. I'm not sure if he introduced himself at all, except to say he was looking forward to meeting you, and at the end of his second visit he gave me the envelope to leave in your condo. Is everything okay?"

  “Yes, yes. You did as he asked, don't worry. Can you please tell me more about him? How he looked? What he wore?" Dina saw that the concierge was a little confused by her questions.

  “He was your height, two to three inches taller. Brown hair, short cut. I am not sure if he's a local; it looks like he isn't from around here. Only my impression, ma'am.” This did not suffice, and Dina asked more questions.

  “How was he dressed? It was raining outside; I don't recall him having an umbrella,” the concierge answered patiently. “But I'm sure his clothes were dry. Oh yes, he was wearing boots. Nice leather boots. I've always wanted to get ones like those, that's why I paid attention to them, you see. You know high-heeled men's boots; I saw on TV that they sell them in village markets. Nothing else extraordinary. Oh, yes! Big hands, working-men hands. When he handed me the envelope, I noticed his hand was big, not like mine.” And he smiled, putting both his hands forward, showing Dina. She was satisfied.

  “Thank you very much. He wrote that he'll be here next week. This is my office address.” Dina gave her business card to the concierge. “If he comes next week and I'm not home, ask him not to hesitate to come to this address, please. It's very important for me to meet him next week. Please pass this message to all of your staff.”

  “Will do,” he replied, and stuck Dina's business card to the board behind his chair. “Don't worry, I'll inform our team as you directed.”

  Dina smiled again and went back to her apartment, anticipating drinking a hot coffee and reading Roman's diary.

  The sun was shining through the condo windows, warming the kitchen and creating the perfect atmosphere. Dina took a big glass filled with water, put it to her right on the table, slowly moved the diary pages toward, her and started reading again.

  Today dad surprised us all! Late in the evening, we were sitting as usual waiting for his stories. He came with a small bottle of black ink and cut a newspaper into small squares, placing three sewing needles on top. He put them on the floor and came back holding a lighted candle, positioning it on the floor near the bottle with ink. “Roman,” he said, “for a long time, since we were in this village, you've wanted to have a tattoo, right?"

  “Yes,?
?? I replied.

  “So today's your lucky day.” I didn't believe my ears. Dad smiled and continued. “Today you and Dina will get tattoos. Don't show them to anybody. They are our family tattoos. Okay, who's first?"

  Dina was scared. I volunteered to be first. Dad explained to us that we would get a tattoo on the side of our middle fingers. It would be the first letter of our names. R for Roman and D for Dina. It was great; a personal tattoo. I gave my left hand to dad and he asked me for the right one. He heated one of the needles on the flame of the candle, explaining that he was doing it to sterilize the needle. Then he dipped it in the ink bottle and slowly punctured the skin on the side of my finger, dot by dot building the letter R. Dina was still scared, and I saw that she was holding her hand on her mouth, ready to scream at any moment. It took dad two minutes to finish his work, and he smiled and asked me if it hurt. I smiled back, locking eyes with Dina, and assured her it was a painless experience.

  “I'm not scared,” mumbled Dina, and put her right hand forward. Dad slowly and with great care took her fingers and told her, “Dina, I'll try to do it fast, don't worry.”

  “I'm not.” Her voice was trembling and I had the feeling that she would burst into tears at any second. But Dina was my hero that day.

  Dina stopped reading, stood up, and went to the window, holding her fists painfully tight, her fingernails piercing her palms, pain penetrating her body. 'Dina was my hero.' And you, Roman, were mine. The thought was running through her head. You are my hero! And I love you as never before. She swept a single tear from her left cheek and slowly moved back to her seated position, ignoring the burning from her pained palms.

  Dad finished Dina's tattoo and we all sat there quietly without words for a long, long time.

  The page ended abruptly with this sentence in the middle. Unusual for Roman's diary, where every page was filled to its maximum capacity. Dina turned the page around and started reading the next one.

  October 15, 6 p.m. We are waiting for dad. 7 p.m. – dad's still not home. Dina's worried, I'm trying to calm her down. 8 p.m. and dad's not home.

  Dina stopped reading. Something was missing. She went back to the previous page.

  Dad finished Dina's tattoo…

  Yes, she realized what was going on. Roman, you are smart. You missed it on purpose because dad asked us to keep it a family secret, and you did. “We are survivors,” ran through Dina's head.

  She took her papers and began to write.

  She wrote: “Secret #2. Before starting the tattoo on Roman's finger, dad went quiet and asked us to be quiet, too. He slowly explained what he was planning to do. ‘Dina and Roman, listen and remember. When I write your initials on the inside of your fingers, I'll do a mirror image of them on purpose. Is that clear?’

  ‘I'm not sure,’ I said to him.

  Dad took one of the papers he had with him and, with the pencil, wrote my initial. D. ‘That's the regular initial, correct, Dina?’

  I said yes.

  ‘What I'm going to do is write it like you're looking into a mirror.’ And he drew a Ɑ.

  Roman asked, ‘Why?

  Dad replied, ‘The first reason is to make sure it does not look like your first initial. The second reason – only you, Dina and I will know about it, and it'll be our family secret.’

  All became quiet, and dad proceeded with Roman's tattoo and then mine. Roman followed dad's directions and did not disclose it, declare it, or explain it in his diary. Love you, Roman, again.”

  And Dina drew a small heart near Roman's name.

  Dina looked around for the time; it was twenty minutes past noon. She decided she would read the diary for another hour and then take a break. She was committed to the task, so she took the last page that she had read and moved her eyes to the last sentence.

  October 15, 6 p.m. We are waiting for dad. 7 p.m. – Dad's still not home. Dina's worried, I'm trying to calm her down. 8 p.m. and dad's not home.

  I went alone for the bag with jewelry, leaving Dina to wait for dad.

  Alex took Dina and me to the train station.

  Three days on a train.

  We arrived in Derchany.

  Second day in Derchany.

  I gave Dina the page with the names.

  I lost Dina!!! Dina, don't worry, I'll find you. I lost Dina!!!!

  Dina was in shock. Roman was writing short sentences without any details; did he lose the motivation to fill in the details? Dina knew Dad's disappearance was a big part of it.

  Dina was sure Roman had changed. He'd never shown it to Dina during the week after dad's disappearance and their separation. He'd never shown her any signs of weakness or lack of self-confidence. He was strong, dedicated and supportive, always smiling, hugging and encouraging. Only now, reading these short lines, Dina realized what a tremendous and heavy weight had been on Roman's shoulders as a result of Dad’s disappearance. She was shivering, feeling hot and cold at the same time. She stared at one point on the kitchen table and quietly, for the first time in her life, asked God for forgiveness for not seeing and recognizing what her lovely and poor brother had gone through. Her brother who, until the last moment they were together, had taken care of her, sacrificing himself for his little sister.

  “Oh, mighty God, forgive me and give me the strength to repay him in any way I can.” She lost track of time and it took a full thirty minutes before Dina could calm down, and she decided to take a break for an hour.

  Dina sat on her balcony overlooking the grey city sky, with a cup of coffee in her hand, counting clouds and trying not to think about the diary.

  An hour had passed and she made the decision to first finish her side of the story before going forward and reading more of Roman's diary.

  October 15, 6 p.m. We are waiting for dad. 7 p.m. – dad's still not home. Dina's worried; I'm trying to calm her down. 8 p.m. and dad's not home. Dina copied the exact words from the yellow page. She continued: “Dad was usually home by 5 p.m. Some days he had meetings at his shop, but we knew about those ahead of time, maybe a day or two before. In the last two months, at our traditional Friday family gatherings, he mentioned several times that our situation had changed. Living in a big city gave us the advantage of moving out quickly and quietly, without being noticed by our neighbors or others. But being in a small village changed our options, he said.

  I noticed that he had more frequent short and quiet moments with Roman alone. I assumed he was preparing Roman for the possibility of his disappearance. Even now, I don't know the real reasons for these meetings. My assumption has to do with the local authorities. Dad was never stopped by the police, and only in the village had he been required to provide a signature to the commandant. I don't know how frequently he was required to do it, but I know he did. The evening dad disappeared, Roman wasn't himself. I think he knew that dad wasn't coming back, and counting the time was a means of self-protection that helped him cope.

  I think it was 8 p.m. when Roman declared he was leaving me alone and going to recover the bag with jewels from Alex's hunting hut. He instructed me to put a chair under the door handle after it was locked to make sure nobody would access our room. He asked me to keep the window half-open, so that when he came back he would use it to alert me. I knew how to get out of the room using the window; it was our usual exit in the summer anyway. He told me, in case of danger, to leave the room without him and wait near the train station, near the red fire hydrant.

  Once Roman left, it felt like time had stopped. I sat on the floor with my legs crossed, holding my head in both hands, ready to jump through the window. I listened to every sound, outside and inside the room. The sun was setting and the red and yellow lights of the horizon illuminated the glass window, giving me hope that Roman would reach the hut before dark. One or two mosquitoes hovered around my head, making annoying buzzing sounds near my ears, but I sat quietly, afraid to make any noise.

  I couldn't be happier when I finally heard Roman's voice behind the wi
ndow calling my name. I didn't jump or move quickly. I raised myself from the floor slowly and moved toward the open window. ‘You can open the door now,’ he called in a hushed tone.

  I did. Roman stepped into the room, his bare wet feet making dirty stains on the floor and carpet. It looked like he didn't care anymore.

  ‘We're okay, Dina. I got the box. Now we wait and see.’

  ‘What are we going to do?’ I asked.

  ‘Don't worry. Dad made all the arrangements for us in case he'd be late,’ and he put his hand around my shoulder. I felt protected and relaxed for the first time in the last two hours.

  Around 11 p.m. when our entire village was asleep and blanketed in darkness, we heard a gentle knock on the window.

  ‘Roman, Dina, are you there?’

  Roman came close to the opening and very quietly answered, ‘Yes, we are.’

  ‘Okay then, I'm coming inside.’ The door to the room opened, and the skinny, dark silhouette of our neighbor, Alex, came in. He asked us how we were doing and Roman replied that we were okay.

  ‘Okay, then listen to me carefully,’ Alex began. ‘Today there will be a train to the city going through the village at 4 a.m. It'll travel to the city for seven days. You understand?’

  We nodded.

  “Good. It'll go through the regional center, Derchany. It will stay there for three days. I'll be with you on the train until it gets to Derchany. I'll put you on the train in the freight car, an empty one. You'll get in from the side entrance, not from the front, understand? Until you reach Derchany you'll have bread and milk that I'll provide for you. In Derchany, you and Roman will get out and buy some food. Your dad gave me an address in the city where you should go. I can't go to the city. Only to Derchany, understand? The journey from Derchany to the city is two days. Once there, you'll go to this address.’ Alex took a piece of paper from his inside jacket pocket and gave it to Roman. He put his hand on my head and mumbled, ‘Everything will be okay, kids. Remember I’ll be coming to take you to the train station at 3:30 a.m. Go to sleep now.’ And he left.

  I need to explain: Alex was our neighbor. He worked for the train station as a freight train inspector. He was the only one in the village with the option to go and see what life outside the village was like. He also delivered letters from outside the village and provided us with goods from the city. Our dad had been good friends with Alex since he fixed his broken door lock and his radio. Alex had no wife and kids but was always very kind to us when he was around.

  ‘Good night, Dina. Go to bed,’ Roman instructed me after Alex left. ‘I'll be sleeping in front of the door on the carpet. Make sure you have your warm sweater, shoes, and socks ready. We aren't taking any toys or other stuff. Dina, we will survive. We are survivors.’”

  Dina closed her eyes and repeated slowly, “We are survivors.” Yes, Roman, you repeated the same thing our dad had told us a million times.

  Then she returned to collecting her thoughts so she could put them down on her notepad.

  “Falling asleep was easy; waking up was the challenge. It took Roman a good two minutes to bring me back to reality. He was ready with his black backpack, hat and shoes. He looked energized and ready for a challenge.

  ‘Look, Dina, we're not going to have an easy seven days,’ he said, ‘but after, we'll be okay again. I made a copy of the address dad left with Alex. In case we're separated, you know what to do. Put it in a safe place.’ I can laugh out loud now, remembering Roman's puzzled face when I took the piece of paper from him, lifted my skirt and put the paper inside my underwear.

  Roman asked, ‘What are you doing?’

  ‘Remember dad taught us to hide important things in safe places? Nobody's going to look in a girl's underwear, right?’ I said.

  ‘Yes, you're right,’ was the reply, and I remember Roman's smile.

  Alex came as he promised, and all three of us moved quietly and slowly through the sleeping village, avoiding gardens and fences. It also looked as if Alex knew every village dog; none of them barked when we passed by.

  The train station was dark when we got there. Alex signaled to us to sit down on the platform bench and wait. He left us alone and went inside the train building. Five minutes later, he came out holding his toolbox and a flashlight. The train arrived on schedule. Alex signaled for us to be quiet, to continue to sit and wait for his directions. The train pulled into the station and stopped. Alex counted four train cars and waved at us to follow. We jumped from the platform and onto the car. Inside, it was dark, and we sat down on the floor. Alex took out a small package from his toolbox and gave it to Roman. Inside it was bread and milk.

  ‘I'll be inspecting train cars every stop before Derchany. Do not get out. Use the hole in the floor at the end of the car as a washroom. See you soon.’ And he disappeared into the darkness of the car.

  We sat down on the floor in the corner of the car. We shivered from the cold. I hugged Roman, and he took out our sweaters and covered our shoulders, bringing me close to him. He smiled and said, ‘Everything will be okay, don't worry. Dad is coming soon. I'm sure he'll wait for us at the central station. I'm sure.’

  After ten minutes the train moved, producing clicking noises. Slowly we picked up speed and discovered that our train car, having once been used to transport livestock, was not windproof. In fact, it was the opposite. Fresh air was pouring in from everywhere: the walls, roof and floor. Roman jumped to his feet and ran to the center of the car, picking up some big cartons. He put them behind our backs and we felt shielded and protected. I think it took another hour before Roman and I fell asleep, hypnotized by the repeated clicking of the train wheels against the rails.

  We woke up when Alex tried to enter the car through the door which we had covered by the cartons we were leaning on. ‘Are you ok? How was your first night? I can't stay with you for long; I need to go do my job. Next stop is tomorrow. I have some water with me. See you soon.’

  The day was warm, the sun shone through the spaces in the roof. It was past noon and Roman and I enjoyed fresh cold water with stale bread, the food we'd gotten from Alex yesterday. The train moved again and a day passed uneventfully. The view outside was beautiful, and we spent a lot of time glued to the spaces between the wooden planks, admiring the outside world.

  Oh yes, I forgot that when we tried to drink the milk, we found it was spoiled. Instead we poured it down the hole in the floor. It was fun watching the white milk hitting the pavement from the moving train and splashing in a million colorful drops that disappeared into the distance. We had fun. The second and third days of the journey passed quickly as well. We admired the scenery outside the rolling train. The sky, clouds, trees, and small villages passed us in a blur and helped us overcome our sadness and fear. We missed Dad. Sometimes I looked directly into Roman's eyes, and at those moments he would return the look, squaring his shoulders, putting a wide smile on his face, telling me with all his might, ‘We will be okay. We are survivors.’

  Alex came once again for a short visit. He apologized but said he might be leaving the train before it reached Derchany. Alex gave Roman some money and directions to continue our journey into the city. ‘Be careful in Derchany. The train might stop far away from the platform, where all the other freight trains are. Buy some food; do not show your money to anybody. Memorize the address your dad gave you. Roman, in Derchany the local police will be hunting for homeless teenagers; stay away from them. Your dad should join you soon. Be careful. Be well.’ He put his hands through the side door and embraced Roman and me. Then, Alex left and we were alone again.”

  Dina stopped writing. She took a sip from the glass of water, briefly noted the time and stretched her hands over her head, her joints cracking. She made these gestures slowly and deliberately, trying to procrastinate going back to writing.

  She knew that the moment in the story where she was separated from Roman was fast approaching, and she was subconsciously trying to postpone the pain and sadness that w
ould shortly hit her. She sat quietly, looking again at the clock for a moment. I have no choice. Roman deserves it. I'll be okay. All these years after she'd avoided thinking about the devastation that followed their separation, forgetting it and never going back until now. I have no choice. She took another sip of water and continued writing.

  “The train pulled into Derchany in the early morning. It was a nice and sunny day. As Alex predicted, the train stopped about 150 meters from the main platform. Derchany station was huge. Trains were everywhere, moving all around us. Roman counted the money Alex had left and decided to wait until the afternoon to get food. He asked me to take out the address dad left us so we could memorize it. I turned around and took it from my underwear. The white page was folded at least four times. Roman smiled and slowly opened it, using only two fingers on each hand and pretending the piece of paper was dirty. On one side of the page was a map with an arrow showing walking directions; on the other side the address was written in a big black letters. We sat on the floor and started memorizing both sides. I always had a good visual memory and after two or three mistakes, I could draw the map without fail. Roman asked me to memorize the names of the streets with an arrow. It was a bit of a challenge. Roman's memory was much better than mine, and after trying only two times he knew the map and address like he himself had drawn it for instruction.

  Noon was approaching. We worked out a strategy for our first separation. I would stay on the train, and Roman would go to the station store to buy food. The box with diamonds would stay with me. We covered it with some cartons on the floor in the opposite corner from where we were sitting. In case of danger, if I needed to get out of the train car, we would meet near the big water tank located at the station entrance. The water tank stood on tall, supporting wooden blocks around 12-14 meters off the ground and was visible from far away. I wasn't scared, but Roman insisted I show him how I could climb out of the train car and in what direction I'd be running if required. I put the address back to where it was safe, kissed Roman goodbye, and quietly sat in the corner.

  Roman’s leaving me behind had no impact on me. It was strange, but I felt safe inside the car, and even twice stood up and walked around, looking outside, predicting what direction Roman would come from. It took less than an hour for him to return. Holding two paper bags in his hands, he was moving fast, looking frequently behind him, trying to avoid moving trains. When he climbed in he was smiling and excited to tell me the details of his journey. I don't remember his story, just Roman telling me, “Dina, we are both stupid.’

  “Why?" I asked.

  “We both didn't memorize the train car number in case we need to leave it, and without it we can forget about getting our diamonds back. And then what would we tell dad?"

  I remember saying, ‘I know, I'll tell him it was your fault,’ and we both laughed and hugged each other. Our first day at Derchany station proved easy. It was a pleasant stay before our departure, after which everything went wrong.”

  Dina stopped writing, took a deep breath, stood up and took a much-needed washroom break. On her way back, she stood near the kitchen table, gathering her strength for a moment before sitting back down, ready to continue.

  “Day two in Derchany started with light rain. Roman planned to find a place to hide the diamonds. I wasn't sure I understood why we couldn't have them with us.

  ‘Listen Dina, you remember all the stories about diamonds dad told us? How dangerous and risky it would be for other people to see them? How bad people can harm us if they know we have them with us? I'm going to hide them in a safe place so we can come back with dad and get them and be happy and rich. Trust me, I know what I'm doing.’

  And I did trust him. We returned to talking about our emergency strategy with the water tank. Roman mentioned it may take more time for him to come back than yesterday and asked me to be careful and continue to memorize the address we'd be trying to reach at the end of our train journey.

  The rain continued when Roman left. I covered myself with any items that were lying around. It was cold and muddy. I sat in a corner, pushing myself as much I could into the walls. Closing my eyes and imagining the map and street names, I slowly fell asleep. I woke up several times from the noise of passing trains but drifted off again. I lost track of time and woke up to somebody calling my name and touching my shoulder. I opened my eyes at once and pulled both hands to protect my head.

  ‘Shhh, don't scream, shhh. It's me, Dina, relax.’

  I slowly lowered my hands. I didn't know what time it was but it was dark. The figure standing in front of me had Roman's voice but barely resembled the sibling that left me in the morning. Roman's head and face were covered in some kind of blue mud, some of it dry and some wet from the raindrops coming from the roof. His pants and shirt were ripped and falling off. Parts of his naked body were also dirty. One ankle was bleeding. His shoes looked like two dark heavy metal lumps attached to his feet.

  ‘What happened to you? Where have you been?’ I asked in alarm.

  ‘I'll explain later. Now help me undress and let's see if we can collect some rainwater to get rid of this blue mud.’

  I ran to the other side of the car, took a carton lying on the floor and ripped two pieces from it. I ran back to him and tried to clean his shoes.

  ‘We have no choice. I need to get to the water tank and clean myself.’ He was out in an instant. Luckily, nobody was around because of the rain, or maybe because it was late at night. In the mornings I’d seen how people took water from the water tank, and I knew Roman would do it quickly. He did. He came back holding his wet shoes in one hand and what looked like his pants and shirt in the other.

  The blue mud was gone from his face, and he looked funny but strong standing in his underwear in front of me. ‘Stop staring. You’d better give me something to eat,’ he commanded. I held out an apple and a cucumber, and he dropped everything he was holding in his hands and grabbed the food, eating it ravenously.

  ‘You know, Roman, I slept for almost the entire time you were gone.’

  ‘Good. Listen, I need to write something, and then I'll tell you what happened to me today, okay?’

  Then I noticed – Roman had come back without the jewelry bag. He took his diary book from his backpack and started writing something. It took around fifteen to twenty minutes. When he finished writing, he sat quietly with his eyes closed repeating some words, going back to his page, checking something, and closing his eyes again. It took another twenty minutes before he turned to me.

  “I hid the jewelry bag. It’s safe. I’ll let you know where it is tomorrow morning. We need to go back to sleep. I’ve written where it is on this page. Take it and hide it. In the morning I'll explain everything to you, but I’m tired now. Also, tomorrow I’ll need to go back again, but only for a short time. I need to make sure it is one hundred percent safe. Can you wait ‘til tomorrow morning? Good. Let's go to sleep. Come here. I'll hold you, I'll squeeze you, I'll eat you alive. Fat and tasty girl.’ He smiled and we both hugged each other and fell asleep.

  That was the last time I hugged my brother.”

  Dina tried to control her emotions. Her eyes watered and her nose became congested as a single tear rolled directly onto the middle of the half-written page. Be brave, be brave! She told herself. You need to finish it. She looked at the wall and felt Roman’s strong hands holding her. We are survivors, Dina, we are, ran faintly through her head. Her body was racked with pain and emotion. But she’d felt these feelings before and she knew how to control them. She took a glass of water, emptied it, stood up to get more water, came back to her seat and slowly started a new sentence.

  “The morning of day three at Derchany station promised to be warm and sunny. Roman made a quick breakfast from what was left in the brown bags he had brought on our first day. He asked me to sit opposite him and began his explanation.

  ‘I took the diamonds to a safe place; I'll give you a list with the names I memorized, please che
ck if I remember what’s on it.’ He gave me a page that he took out of his diary. I held the page in front of my eyes and Roman started slowly but confidently: ‘Captain Dom, Lucy's Kitchen, Devil Bridge, Open space, Gallery, King’s Table, Desert, Church, Horse Stable, Golden Circle, 40T150P20T10N…” He stopped.

  “What is it, Roman? What are these names? Why do you need to remember them?”

  “Wait Dina, that’s not all. You see that I drew stars near some names, right? Okay, so the stars are near Captain Dom, Gallery, King’s Table and Church, correct?’

  ‘Yes, correct.’

  ‘Good, now I need to go. It’ll take maybe an hour, no more. You keep the page safe. I need to avoid people on the street; I need to go. I’ll be back soon.’ ”

  Dina stopped writing – it was the last time she’d seen her brother. She suppressed her emotions again, now with less pain than before, and continued writing.

 

  “An hour quickly passed and Roman hadn’t yet returned. I was pacing inside our train car trying not to think, trying not to concentrate on reality. I pretended I was marching in the street of a big city with the whole world watching me, cheering and clapping. It was like a dream. Hands up, hands down. One, two, three, one, two, three.

  Suddenly I heard voices. My first reaction was happiness – could it be Roman? I snapped out of my dream and felt fear, then panic. The voices were coming closer and closer, and more fear came with them. They were also coming from some place above me, not from the ground, not from the left or right but from above. My first instinct told me to run to the side door and out to the water tank, but my brain comprehended that I would have been discovered and so I jumped into the corner and covered my face with both hands, hoping it would protect me from the approaching voices.

  From the distance I could hear and identify that it wasn’t the voices of grown men, nor was it the voice of a young child. There were at least three or four different people talking. Now I could hear footsteps, too. It was clear they were coming from the roof. The noise came directly from above where I was standing, and footsteps passed right above my head. Now I knew that they were three teenagers, train-hopping, the same ones Alex was telling us about. They passed by but I could hear their voices in close proximity to our car.

  Suddenly I was pushed from behind, and having lost my balance, I was forced to take a step forward. Then I was pushed again. I took my hands off my face and turned around. Nobody was behind me. Another loss of balance came with the realization of what was happening: our train was moving. Moving! And to be sure I was right, I leaned to the right wall and stared outside, finally understanding the situation I was in. We were moving and Roman wasn’t here yet. But Alex told us the train would be parked ‘till the end of the third day? Why were we moving now?

  I needed to get out. Fast.

  There was no time to pick up all of our belongings which were lying on the floor. My hand went directly to my underwear, checking that I still had the two pieces of paper there. I rushed to the side door and was out in a second; standing on a small platform between two moving train cars, ready to jump out.”

  Dina stopped writing. Suddenly she realized that she moved from thinking of this story as something that happened to her as a child a long time ago, to recognizing that it was a deep-rooted part of her own past. She was there again; she was reliving every moment, every second. There was no longer any need to go deep into a memory or spend time trying to recreate the past. Now it became Dina's reality again, even against her will. Two parallel worlds past and present, joined each other in one body, and Dina became a nine-year-old girl in the body of a twenty-nine year old woman.

  Never before had she tried to leave the train car, even when the train was parked in the station. Now the ground was moving, the rails and steel wheels producing a frightening noise. To get out would mean stepping down from the platform onto the car buffer. Fitted at the ends of the train car frames, one at each corner, the buffers were shock-absorbing pads, protecting train cars when coupled together. They were round, like pipes.

  I had been ready to step down when I heard a voice.

  “Hey! Are you crazy?! Hey, step back, step back, you’ll kill yourself. Step back!” And suddenly a strong hand grabbed my shirt from behind and lifted me into the air and back onto the platform. Then two hands snaked under my arms and I was lifted up to the car roof, dragged from behind to about a meter from the opening between the two cars.

  I was lying on my back, and three teenage faces stared at me from above. All three looked to be around sixteen. The first thing that shocked me was the way they were dressed. In the middle of the summer, they were in winter coats. The multiple layers of clothes made the teenagers look big, square and funny. Even in the position I was in, I could not hold in my laughter.

  “Pete, let’s throw her off the train. Let's see if she knows how to fly!”

  “Leave it Dandy – I’m hungry, let's make goulash and eat her.”

  “Pete, Pete? Niko wants to eat her, but she is bony-shmony. I want her to fly!”

  “Okay, Dandy, Niko, stop it. She’s gonna start crying now, and then we’ll have a real problem.” The teenager speaking addressed me. “Don’t listen to them. My name’s Pete, and these are my friends Dandy and Niko. Don’t be scared – please.” His words came at the exact time I was ready to burst into hysterical crying. I could feel my face becoming red, and my mouth opened, ready to give birth to an alarming noise when the one named Pete covered it with his dirty hand.

  “No, please, no! We’re still close to the station. If you scream now, they’ll stop the train. Please don’t.”

  I closed my mouth. I don’t know where my strength returned to me from, but I was suddenly on my feet, barely holding my balance because of the moving train, which was picking up speed and turning. “If you touch me again, I’ll kill you!” I snarled. “And my brother will chop you in tiny pieces if you touch me again with your dirty hands!”

  "Pete, I told you we should throw her off the train,” this came from the one called Dandy.

  "Be quiet! Nobody will touch you again if you are quiet. There are two conductors on the first train car in charge of keeping the roof clean from train hoppers. We need to get to Central City. If they know we’re here, you and I will end up jumping from the moving train, and you will wish you knew how to fly. You understand?” His tone became friendly. “Nobody is going to eat you or push you out. I see it’s your first time on the roof. We never push or rob anyone who’s on the same train. Now, you mentioned your brother. Where is he?”

  "I don't know. He was supposed to get back from Derchany, but the train left the station early. That’s why I was ready to get out, so I could wait for him there.”

  “You’re right, they change the train schedules frequently. It’s why we’re usually on the roof three or four hours before departure. Where are you supposed to go? Where are your parents?”

  “I need to get to Central City, and my parents aren’t any of your business!”

  “Okay. I think your brother can catch the next train. There are so many of them in Derchany, it’s not going to be a problem. Did you stay on the roof?”

  “No, we were in the car inside.” I pointed to the next train car.

  “You travelled with the cows?” asked Dandy.

  “No, of course not. It was empty.”

  “Okay, now come here. I'll show you something. Lie down here.” Pete showed me a space at the end of the car. “Look down.” He pointed down between two cars where I’d been standing before I was lifted onto the roof. “You see the buffer that you wanted to step on? Do you?”

  I nodded my head. “Yes, I see.”

  “Now, take a look. It has two parts: one is going inside the other. You see how it’s changing length every second while the train is moving, and one buffer is touching the other? You see?”

  “Yes.”

  “That’s the most dangerous part of the train car when the train is moving. You c
ould lose your foot in a second if you step in the wrong place. It’s like a strong press. It’s why Dandy lifted you off it and Niko and I lifted you onto the roof. Remember it’s dangerous to step on top of a buffer when the train is moving, especially at the beginning while traveling at slow speeds. Okay?”

  I was watching the buffer change length with every touch of the other buffer and I was happy to have my right foot attached to me, undamaged. I sat down.

  “My name’s Dina. Thank you Dandy, Niko and Pete.”

  “No problem,” said Dandy, although his tone didn’t sound particularly happy.

  “We’re coming up to the bridge now. Dina, it’s a long and dangerous bridge. It’s not really straight and has small curves. The train cars will be at an angle. You need to lie down on your stomach and spread your legs and hands as much as you can. You understand?”

  “Yes.”

  “Now, sometimes they’ll stop the train on the bridge and the conductors will come up to the roof to get rid of us. In this case we need to hide between the cars. Remember, don’t go close to the buffer. I'll tell you if the train is going to stop.”

  “Pete, Pete. We could go to the cow hall inside there where the girl came out from. It’s empty. We have no stops ‘till Central City. Let’s go down and stay there, yeah?”

  “What if the conductors come? Where are you going to run?”

  “Pete, Niko and I, one of us will stay on the roof and watch the dogs. But the rest can sleep there. Yeah?”

  “Niko, that’s okay with you? Dandy and you watching the dogs? One of you on the roof?”

  “I’m with Dandy. We’ll sleep well. Why not?”

  I could see that the train was reaching a big metal bridge. Instead of slowing down, the train was picking up speed, preparing to cross the bridge very quickly.

  “Okay, it looks like we aren’t stopping,” Pete said.

  “Wait, Pete. Last time, last year, they stopped the train from a high speed and tried to shake us off. It all depends on what kind of dog is running the train,” Niko said.

  “Good. Let’s go down to the cow hall.”

  I was first. They held my hands and slowly put me back onto the platform, and I strolled through the door to the already-familiar place.

  Dandy was next. His thickly dressed figure moved through the door slowly, ready to be stuck in the middle. But he had a natural talent for squeezing in and, with a couple twisted moves, his body rolled inside the car like a cork from a bottle. Next was Pete. You could see that he was smart. First he pushed some clothes through which he had taken off, and then he himself came in. Niko was funny, the shortest in the group but most rounded in the middle. He also rolled himself in, stopping in the middle, and pretended that he wes stuck inside the door. Dandy and Pete pulled him back up by his hands.

  “Pete?” I asked. “You really think my brother will have no problem getting to Central City?”

  “Don’t worry, I did it six times this summer already. He’ll need to get on the right train, though. If it’s the wrong train he may end up hundreds of miles away. But again, he can go back to Derchany at any time by taking another train, so don’t worry.”

  I started feeling comfortable with this group of strangers. I even found and gave them an apple from the supplies I had left in the corner. I could see my apple had softened Dandy and Niko; they started smiling at me, and we sat quietly, waiting to pass the dangerous bridge.

  The train didn’t slow down, and even sitting inside the car I could feel the angle of the car. I imagined myself on the roof now. It was scary, and I was frightened.

  Noises and blinking lights intruded from outside and didn’t comfort me. It looked like the journey across the bridge would take an hour or more.

  Everyone relaxed again when the train was back in the open.

  “Why are you dressed like a scarecrow? Winter coats in the summer?” I asked.

  “Have you tried to sleep on the roof of a train when it’s moving at fifty miles an hour? We’ll see who’s going to be dressed like a scarecrow.” Pete smiled.

  “What kind of names are Dandy and Niko? I’ve never heard names like that.”

  “They aren’t real names. We’re scared of using our real names. The police have a list of many train-hopping teenagers. Each of us have two or three nicknames. We travel in groups of three or four friends and agree what to call each other through our trip. So if the police catch me and ask, “Who was traveling with you?” I'll say, “Dandy and Niko. “ They’ll know I’m not lying to them but they’ll never know the real identities of my friends. Just like I will never know Dandy and Niko’s real names. And why should I?”

  Hunger brought Dina back to her condo. Good timing, because it was 5 p.m. already. She crossed the dining room, dialed the concierge and ordered her usual: Mexican food. She knew she needed to finish her story today. Tomorrow, Sunday, Tamara would be waiting at 10 a.m. in the office to give her the weekly update and prepare an action plan for the week ahead. She was tired but she decided to finish her task. About twenty minutes later she was sitting on the sofa, relaxing. A gentle knock on the front door forced Dina to her feet.

  The concierge passed the plastic bag with the food to Dina. She smiled. “Please add a ten-dollar tip to my bill.”

  “Thank you,” he replied. “Bon appetite.”

  “Thank you.”

  Dina closed the front door, emptied the plastic bag, and started eating. Spicy Mexican food was her favorite. She was a fast eater, at home and at the office. She could win any eating race, if there ever was one. Even when having dinner after work with friends or co-workers, her plates were always empty before everybody else. Some days she felt uncomfortable finishing her food first and forced herself to slow down. But when that happened she usually didn’t enjoy her food as much. Often she had no choice and needed to finish her meal quickly.

  The empty plate went back into the bag and into the garbage bin under the kitchen sink. Dina was ready to go and finish her tedious task.

  Dina returned to writing.

  “Two days passed quickly. Pete, Dandy and Niko each took turns climbing onto the car roof. We had little food and water. This train-hopping group was a disciplined team of teenagers. Pete was the one with authority. When asked what they were planning to do at Central City, I received only one answer: “We will travel.” Where? When? How? I never got any answers.

  After I was accepted into the group, I decided to ask Pete about Central City and the address where I needed to go. To my surprise, Pete knew all about Central City.

  It was a big regional centre. The name Central City came from its large amount of train stations. Pete listed five names of different train stations. Central City had a big market, a number of different stores and one train station used by international trains. Pete mentioned it was a good place if you wanted to get out of the region or country. When I mentioned the street I needed to go to, Pete gave me the names of the streets and intersections I needed to pass, similar to the ones written on my hidden page.

  The night went by quietly. I had a comfortable night. We used the winter clothes as a floor cover to assemble our beds.

  When the train started to slow down at noon the next day, Pete said, “We’re here.”

  Small houses appeared close to the railroad from both sides. Here and there people were moving, and a small number of cars were driving on the roads. From far away, the buildings of a big city could be seen. I started to worry and felt nervous; it was my first time in such a big city. After an hour of slow traveling, the train finally pulled into the station and I could read the station’s name written on a green building. ‘City II.’

  Why ‘City II?’ My directions to the address I needed to go to had been from ‘City I’ station, not ‘City II.’

  “Pete, why are we stopping in City II?” I asked.

  “I told you, Central City station has five train stations and there’s no way to know what station the freight train you’re on
is going to roll into. I told you yesterday.”

  “Pete, how far is City I from City II?”

  “You need to cross the city. Go through the market or take the tram or bus.”

  I was in shock. I had no money for the tram or bus. I had no idea where we were in the city.

  When the train finally stopped, Dandy and Niko disappeared so fast I couldn’t even say my goodbyes. I saw Dandy go in one direction and Niko in the opposite.

  “Help me, Pete. Please help me,” I begged.

  Pete was busy getting his winter coats in order, preparing to leave the car.

  "Pete, I need your help. Please.”

  “Okay, listen to me. I can't take you with me now. But if you stay here, I'll take you to your address in two or three hours. I need to go now to meet somebody, but I’ll be back. That’s what I can do for you.”

  “But what if the train moves? Where can we meet?”

  “I don't know.”

  “Pete, what if I go with you? I'll go behind you. Nobody will know I’m with you. Please, if the train moves I’m going to lose you, Pete. Please.”

  “You know, you’re a big pain in the butt.” He sighed. “Get your stuff together. We’re leaving soon. You’ll go first, ahead of me for now, ‘till we get out of the station. You see the door? You need to go through and then out of the station. I'll be behind you. If somebody tries to catch me and I run, don’t panic. Go straight, directly out of the station. You'll see a big clock in the plaza; stay there if you lose me.”

  We took our stuff and left the car. The green station building had big metal fences on both sides, and I understood why we needed to go through the building and not around. The scariest part was approaching the station entry door. Everything else was easy, at least for me. Inside the station there was a big crowd of passengers, people meeting them and rail station workers. Nobody paid attention to me. I heard from behind, “Keep moving, and don’t stop. Do you see the exit door? Go straight through.” I did as was commanded.

  Once out of the station, I was afraid to look behind me. Pete’s voice disappeared, and I was alone on the busy street of a big city. I stopped for a second and felt a gentle push on my shoulder. I knew it was Pete telling me not to stop. Not looking behind me, I moved straight on the sidewalk, passing other streets and intersections. It took a good hour before I heard from behind, “You can stop now. We should stop and find where we can get drinking water.”

  I turned around. What I saw shocked me. In front of me stood a young man with black shades and a brown hat on his head. The winter layers had disappeared. He held nothing in his hands. And even his yellow shirt looked like it had come out of a washing machine moments ago.”

  “What? You can't recognize your friend Pete? It’s okay. You can relax now. We passed the most dangerous zone. We can go together now. Do I look like your older brother?”

  The sudden reminder of my dearest brother brought tears to my eyes. I couldn’t hold them in and started crying.

  “Shhh. I meant when we’re together, pretend you’re my sister. Only if somebody asks, okay?”

  “Okay.”

  He took my hand and we moved slowly, looking for a water fountain. It didn’t take long. A short break for a drink and we were moving again. The road through the market was easy, and even fun. Pete was a master at getting food without paying. In just a short period of time, his pockets had two apples and one tomato. We passed though the market and stopped to eat.

  “We’re almost there. Did you see the red roof there?” And he pointed with his finger. “That’s City I Station. From there, you know how to get to your address.”

  “Pete, can you come with me? I don’t feel good in this big city. It’s only a ten-minute- walk for you. Please.”

  Pete smiled. “Why am I helping you? You’re a little leech. Give me the address.”

  I told him the address, and we moved toward my final destination in our trip. That’s what I was thinking: ‘my final destination.’

  I was wrong.

  It was an hour or two past noon. Walking on the streets identified on my page gave me a sense of confidence and a feeling of safety. In fifteen minutes, we were standing in front of the building, the last address on my page.

  “We’re here, Dina. I need to go. Good luck to you. You can go now.”

  “Thank you, Pete.” And I gave him a warm hug.

  Pete left and I passed the building entrance, looking for unit four.

  I stood for a minute in front of the door, concerned about what was waiting for me on the other side. I rang the bell. An older woman opened the door. She looked me up and down.

  “What do you want, child?”

  “My name’s Dina. My dad sent me to your address. My brother’s in Derchany now; his name is Roman. He should get here today or tomorrow. Our neighbor Alex helped us get out of the village. Do you know my dad?”

  “Yes, I know your dad. Come in, please.” She showed me in. I was impressed by what I saw in the apartment. The lobby room where I was standing was so big, bigger than our room in the village. The woman called someone from the next room. A man of the same age came in wearing big glasses and holding a newspaper in his hand.

  “Is this the Dina we’ve been waiting for? Where’s the boy?”

  “He’s lost in Derchany. He might come today or tomorrow, right, Dina?”

  “Yes, of course. It’s simple, the train left earlier and he was still in town. He’ll catch the next train to Central City.”

  “Good. Do you need to wash your hands and face? We’re going to eat lunch together. Come with me to the washroom, please.”

  I followed. The rooms had big windows, stocked with nice furniture, pictures on the walls, and crystal bottles on tables. I felt like I was in a dream. After we washed our hands and I washed my face, we went to the dining room where the woman was preparing lunch, setting the table with beautiful cutlery. I was so hungry that I devoured all that I’d been served.

  “Don’t be shy. If you want more, please ask,” the man said.

  “Thank you.”

  “We’re going to rest now. I'll show you your room. We’ll go to the city today to buy some clothes and take your picture.”

  “Okay.”

  He took my hand and we went to a room on the left. It was big. There was a large sofa near the wall.

  “Take a nap. I'll come to wake you in an hour. Don’t worry, everything will be okay. You are in good hands now.” He smiled and closed the door behind him. I sat on the sofa. I don’t remember how I fell asleep, or how long I slept. I remember hearing a knock on the door and waking up.

  “How are you? Did you get any sleep?” I nodded.

  “Good. We need to go. Do you want to have tea or milk?”

  “I’m okay, thank you.”

  “Alright. We are going shopping.”

  I was surprised. “Can I go to the washroom, please?”

  “Of course. Second door on your left.”

  Dina closed the washroom door behind her. She took the two folded pages from her safe place. She opened the page with the address. Dina looked around before she tore it in small pieces. She threw them in the toilet and flushed it.

  Somehow Dina caught herself referring to herself in the third person at this point in her reflection. Interesting how the brain works.

  “They went out. It was Dina’s first time going out onto the streets of a big city. Everything was new and interesting: the people, the cars, the windows and buildings. The couple noticed her excitement and tried to walk slowly. Soon Dina became comfortable with what was going on around her, and she relaxed. After an hour they came to a big shop with a large sign outside. Inside they took an escalator to a higher floor where Dina found herself in a magical land of toys, miniature furniture, funny flashing lights, rows of dresses, and the soft sound of music. She wasn’t alone. Dozens of children with their parents were everywhere. Soft music and children’s voices mixed together. Amazed, Dina stood near the escalator
and didn’t want to move, afraid to wake up from the dream.

  “Dear, we need to go. If you want, we can come back tomorrow.”

  They moved to the aisles with dresses, shirts, pants, and other beautiful clothes.

  It took two hours of changing, looking, changing again, and going around and in front of the mirror. Fun, fun, fun. At the end of the process, they had two big bags with three pairs of pants, two dress shirts, two dresses, two pairs of shoes, a hat, a spring coat, and a beautiful doll. So beautiful that Dina asked permission to carry it in her hands through the city.

  “We'll go to the photo store now. We need to take a picture of you for your passport.”

  “Why do I need a passport? Are we going anywhere? We aren’t waiting for Roman?” asked Dina, surprised.

  “We are waiting for him. But we need to be ready in case he’s late. We’ll do everything to get you and him back together. I'll explain at home. Now, we need to go before they close the store.”

  It took an hour to get the pictures done, including undressing and dressing in Dina’s new dresses. At the end, looking at four different passport pictures, Dina smiled and thought, I don’t look so bad. The rest of the way home, this smile was glued to her face.

  Three days passed. There was no sign of Roman. The couple made some inquiries about freight trains passing through Central City. There were half a dozen of them. Most were passing through Derchany, but Roman still didn’t show up.

  At the end of day three, at the dinner table, the woman said, “We need to change the documents. We can't wait any longer. The next train to the border is arriving in ten days. We can't take the risk.”

  “Okay,” replied the man. “Dina, we can't wait for Roman any longer than tomorrow. We promised your dad that we’d take care of you and Roman. That’s what we’re going to do. You’ll go with us. Our friends will stay here in case Roman comes. He’ll be left behind, but you’ll be safe. Trust me dear, we are best friends with your dad.” He smiled in a way that made Dina feel safe and trusting.

  “Okay, do you promise I’ll see him soon?”

  They nodded.

  The next day was full of preparations. The couple packed two briefcases and went to get the travel documents. At lunch all of them reviewed their passports and travel permits.

  “Where are we going?” Dina asked.

  “We are going offshore. We’ll take a train to the border. It’ll take two days. We booked a sleeping compartment on the train for the three of us. We’ll be comfortable there. Then we’ll take an airplane for six hours. Our friends will meet us at Immigration Control, and then you’ll go to your new home. It’s a nice place, Dina. You'll meet Roman there, and dad too.” The couple looked at each other, and the woman repeated, “Dad too, very soon.”

  “Dina, your last name for our trip will be Greduer. Can you please repeat after me? Greduer.”

  “Gre-da-er,” came out of Dina's mouth.

  “Try again please. This time with uer at the end. Gre-du-er.”

  “Greduer, Greduer.”

  “Good, let’s practice before dinner, please. Also, for border control, I’m your uncle and she’s your aunt.”

  Kerzhak Navigation

  Dina stopped writing. She didn’t remember the names of her fake uncle and aunt. She was tired. The clock showed that it was 8 p.m. She decided it was enough for today. No, not only for today. It wouldn’t benefit her or anybody else to go through her life from this point on. It would be better to go back to Roman’s diary. But she was so exhausted, mentally and emotionally, that she decided to take a break. Tomorrow would be another day. Plus after meeting with Tamara, she was going to have half a day at least to get back to Roman’s diary.

  What to do? Okay, I can go to the gym and practice Kerzhak Navigation.

  Dina went to the bedroom and came out dressed in yoga pants and a white tank top. She looked at herself in the wall mirror.

  Dina was not a beauty queen. Five foot six and one hundred forty-five pounds, she looked slightly overweight, even though she never felt like it. Her curvaceous figure complimented her feminine appearance. Her usual smile revealed brand new and shiny braces that her dentist put on six month ago. She approved her look and moved toward the elevator door. One foot from her private elevator, she suddenly remembered that it was still out of order, and with a fast turn on her heels, Dina moved through her door and into the lobby. The gym was on the second floor and at these late hours it was usually empty.

  She was right. No one was using the gym. Dina turned the light on and went to the stand with the weights. She picked up two light ones and put them on the floor two to three feet apart. She repeated this procedure six times, until the floor of the gym was covered with randomly-placed weights.

  The weights assembled an imaginary square and Dina was standing in one of its corners. Slowly moving her head from right to left, Dina came to a half-sitting position.

  Her hands went straight up in front of her, while she moved her head slowly, right to left, left to right. Her hands now went to the side of her body and then up right above her head. Slowly, Dina repositioned herself to the other imaginary corner and repeated the same exercise. With all four corners finished, she moved to the center and, in the same half-sitting position, started to turn around with her hands flapping up and down like she was trying to fly. It took around two minutes and then Dina straightened her back and moved to the place where she started her strange exercise.

  She opened her right palm and a piece of small, black silk material appeared. She further unraveled the material using both her hands, until it became a bag. She slowly put this bag over her head, covering her face and neck. The bag blocked the light and prevented Dina from seeing anything around her.

  Slowly, like a strange dance, Dina's feet and hands started to move, her body changing angles and Dina looked like a Tai Chi master. But then her legs started moving faster, together with her hands, making movements that looked like Karate or some kind of self-defense kata. Her body was turning left and right, then positioning itself in the opposite direction it had been in the previous second. All together, the flow of movement looked like a War Dance, or some unique form of martial art.

  What was easily noticeable was that Dina, through her movement, never touched any of the weights lying on the floor. Her body was like a butterfly hovering in the air. Her feet, sometimes landing within one or two inches from the weights, were careful never to touch them. Twenty minutes later, Dina was in the same position on the floor where she had started. In the past, when she was just starting her training she used to attach white chalk to her feet to trace her movements and see where she made mistake. But now, she was confident in her abilities. No chalk was needed.

  She moved between all of the weights. To get a better sense of terrain in her mind she had to move between some of the weights more than once. She took the black silk bag off of her head. She was exhausted and sweating heavily. Four years ago when she started practicing Kerzhak Navigation, she could only navigate between two to three weights and often needed at least a week before going back to the exercise. Somehow the mental effort, the brain, the nerves and the physical abilities of the Kerzhak Navigation exercise required a great amount of human energy. It took an unusual length of time to regain it.

  The big problem for Dina was that she didn’t know how to supplement Kerzhak Navigation with a proper diet or other special exercises.

  The knowledge of Kerzhak Navigation was passed to Dina around four years ago, when one of the biggest universities in the country asked MirexGlobe to authenticate a twelve-minute black-and-white documentary taken in 1920. The documentary was about Kerzhaks, a secretive old believers’ tribe living deep in the Siberian forests. The documentary had four main sections: Kerzhak Culture, Kerzhak Survival, Kerzhak Religion, and Kerzhak Rituals. The university claimed that the owners of the documentary had no proof of its authenticity, but that if it were authentic, it could present the first description of
this strange mystical tribe, with possible implications to the modern scientific community.

  MirexGlobe took the job, but could not find a reliable source to substantiate the authenticity of the film. It took almost a year to get the Siberian local administration to co-operate. From them, Dina's team learned that the location of the existing Kerzhak settlements were unknown. The theory was that they settled alongside a river to excavate or refine gold. Multiple times in the past, the local authorities sent small expeditions to map the Kerzhaks’ location, but none of them had ever returned.

  What was known was that every year before hunting season, three or four big bearded men were seen coming from the forest. They were looking to exchange bags of gold for hunting weapons and ammunition. They never appeared in the same village twice. And the locals who made such illegal exchanges with the Kerzhaks always kept the exchanges a well-guarded secret.

  The history of the Kerzhaks being expelled by the Russian Tsar was well documented. But their current condition was shrouded in darkness. Dina's team did all they could, but could not come close to reaching any conclusions about the documentary. Technically speaking, Gregory did find the film material to be authentic. But the time of production and its use of modern technology remained a mystery. As proof, Gregory produced his own black and white clip, using similarly aged film materials he’d gotten from one of his movie studio friends. The film featured Tamara at her desk, manicuring her nails. It was funny to watch, just like an old Charlie Chaplin movie.

  All efforts to get valid information on the current location of the Kerzhaks had been in vain. Dina had no choice. She could either cancel the contract or travel to Siberia herself. The choice was clear. It took two months to get the required visas and book the tickets. Her journey, together with Igor, consisted of a plane, train, river barge, local bus, horse carriage and a bus.

  During their journey they stayed with local villagers, and enjoyed great hospitality. Igor spoke broken Russian, but it was enough to start a conversation. At the end of the journey, they arrived at the regional center Krasni Yar, where they had were given a room at the local hostel for forest workers. They rented a jeep from the field manager for three days.

  Nobody in Krasni Yar knew the whereabouts or other information about the Kerzhaks. Dina and Igor planned the ground they would cover in three days, based on local maps and road conditions. They would visit between ten to fifteen villages to see if they could uncover anything about the elusive Kerzhaks. After two days of traveling on bumpy village roads, they came up with nothing. The village people were nice, but provided no information – either knew nothing or just weren’t willing to share.

  On the third and final day, the plan was to go back to the Krasni Yar, passing through the last two villages. The first village was built on a hill overlooking a small, but fast-flowing river, which curved like a snake. No more than twenty very old wooden buildings stood at both sides of street. This village had only one street that Igor ironically called “Autobahn”.

  As usual with these villages, a local store stood somewhere in the middle of the street. Dina and Igor always asked questions there, assuming people at the local store would know more. As in the previous villages, a local woman was sitting at the counter, reading a newspaper. Dina introduced herself and Igor. Igor translated Dina’s introduction. The woman showed little interest in talking to the foreign strangers. She mumbled something. Igor translated, “Second house on the left. His name is Peter.”

  “Who is Peter?” asked Dina.

  “I don’t know. Let’s go ask Peter. She wasn’t as surprised as the others when I mentioned the word Kerzhaki. “

  They left the store and drove to the second house on the left.

  “You’re sure this is the right direction?”

  “I’m sure, Dina. I’m also sure that I want to take a shower, and I’m sure I would like to be back at the hostel today. So I can introduce a normal toilet to my butt. So let’s get this over with!”

  “Okay,” replied Dina with a smile.

  The door was opened by a man in his sixties, maybe seventies. Igor introduced Dina and himself. The man introduced himself as Peter, and he asked them to come in. They sat at a big table in the middle of the one-room house. This room had a bed, a stove, a table with two benches on both sides, and two windows. It was small but cozy. When asked if Peter knew anything about the Kerzhaks, he answered with a short, but firm, “Yes.”

  Dina and Igor looked at each other and Igor asked, “What do you know?”

  “I was adopted by the Kerzhaks when I was seven years old. My biological father was a hunter, who taught me to hunt when I was just 4 years old. He died one day, leaving me and Mom. A while after he died, Mom left town and I stayed with my neighbours. Mom never returned. I ran away from the neighbours, because they were always drunk. I was at my dad’s hunting hut when the Kerzhaks found me and took me to their village. I was there ‘till I was twenty-eight or thirty years old. I don’t remember anymore. “

  Dina was thinking of what to ask next.

  Igor didn’t have to think at all. “We have a movie we’d like to show you. Can we, please?” And without waiting for a reply, he took a portable player out, checked the batteries, and turned on the clip.

  At first Peter was surprised to see the player, but when the first images came up, he asked Igor to stop, took his glasses from a shelf near the window and joined Dina and Igor. “Start,” commanded Peter. Igor translated and pushed start.

  After two minutes of watching Peter said, “Dress. Old dress.”

  Dina asked Igor to stop. “What’s wrong with the dress?”

  Igor translated again. “It’s an old dress, from old times. Nobody dresses in those clothes today.”

  “What clothes do they wear today?” asked Dina.

  Peter replied, “Normal, like all villagers. Simple clothing.”

  The movie continued. At the part where the religion was explained and some religious rituals were documented, Peter nodded his head. I noticed he was watching these parts with respect and approval. In the last two minutes, Peter was glued to the screen. “No, no, no.”

  “Why no?” asked Dina.

  “No, no, no.” replied Peter again. “Not the right way to do Navigation.”

  Igor stopped the video, asked for permission to light a cigarette, and shared a Marlboro with Peter.

  “What is Navigation,” asked Dina, “and why is it wrong?”

  It took a minute or two before Peter replied, “I need to show you; I can’t explain. This is a good cigarette. Do you have more?”

  “Yes, I do.” Igor gave him the pack of Marlboro he had. “I have more in the car. If you explain it to us, I’ll bring more.”

  “We need to go to the forest,” Peter said, and led them to the door. They came out and followed Peter through his small garden behind the house. They passed a small fence and moved into the forest to a small hill nearby. Most of the trees in the forest were birch, standing four to six feet apart. Standing there, you could see only a tall white wall of birch tree trunks.

  “Navigation. When I go through the forest with my eyes closed and pass all of the trees on my way, will you understand?”

  “No, not really. Are you going through the trees? What do you mean, ‘pass all of the trees on your way’?” asked Dina.

  “Good,” replied Peter. “You give me your cigarettes and I’ll show you. Okay?”

  “Okay, no problem.”

  Peter lifted his shirt to cover his head. He took his hands from the short sleeves and covered his eyes, pulling the sleeves around his head.

  “I can’t see you now,” came from under the shirt. “Do you believe me?”

  “Yes,” Dina and Igor replied. They looked at each other with surprise.

  “Now you, man,” Peter directed to Igor. “Take your shirt and put it on top of my eyes.”

  Igor obeyed, and took his shirt off and tightened it around Peter’s head where his eyes were.


  “Now do you believe me?”

  “Yes, we believe,” they both answered.

  Peter started to move toward the forest. He moved quickly. Dina and Igor followed. It was like Peter had a map of the surroundings in his head; when a birch trunk came close to him he knew to turn his body to avoid colliding with the tree. Again and again he moved around, passing birch trunks behind him. He went around a hundred feet into the forest. He didn’t touch any trees on his way. When he stopped, Dina and Igor were in total shock. Peter slowly took Igor’s shirt from his head, and then managed to get his down and put his hands back in his sleeves.

  “Navigation. It is called Navigation. And only a Kerzhaki can teach you how to do it. In your movie, it is a joke. Give me my cigarette now.”

  Igor took his last pack of Marlboro and gave it to Peter.

  On the way to Peter’s house, everybody was quiet. Dina noticed Peter had difficulty moving, so she gave him her hand and walked slower. When they arrived at his house, Peter took a long time to regain his strength. He was quiet and asked for water.

  “We need to get back to the regional center today, but if I stay, can you teach me the Navigation?” Dina asked.

  “I can, but I am old. You need to know the moves. You need to do exercises every day. You need to train your brain to see, to imagine, to control.”

  “We have a camera; can you do the exercises while we take pictures?”

  Peter was quiet for a moment and then replied, “Why not? You are good people. You want to know about the Kerzhaks, not only about gold and locations. You are good. Give me an hour to relax and I’ll show you.”

  Dina and Igor left Peter to relax, and went to the jeep. Igor prepared the camera. Dina looked through their belongings, trying to find what they could leave with Peter to express their appreciation for his effort. She couldn’t find much going through her bag, but from Igor’s bag she confiscated another two packs of Marlboro, winter pants, a clean sweater, and a brand new tube of toothpaste.

  Igor was ready for hundreds of hours of recording. The batteries, recording cassette and special microphone were at the ready. Igor too was ready for action. They went into the room. Peter was sitting near the window. Dina put all of the presents she’d gotten on the table. Igor held his disappointment quietly when he saw his cigarettes. Dina smiled and pointed to Peter. “It’s all yours. Sorry we didn’t prepare more presents, but we will share what we have.”

  “Thank you. What is he going to do?” Peter pointed to Igor, who was already recording their conversation.

  “Don’t worry; he’s documenting what we are saying and what you are going to tell us. Stop him anytime you don’t feel comfortable, please.”

  Igor was translating all of these conversations from English to Russian and back while the camera continued recording. The next two hours were all about Peter. He started to explain the basics of the navigation system, the history behind it, and the reason it was developed. He mentioned the great importance of a connection between the brain, reality and the human body. He explained the first moves and called them the Lesson of Concentration. Then came the Lesson of Memory and last, the Lesson of Movement. Dina was surprised.

  “It’s a system! How do you know all of the steps one after another?”

  “I taught it for five years. And to become a teacher, you need to know what and how to teach.”

  Then came the demonstration. Slowly, stepby-step, Peter showed every move, every angle. Igor had a hard time following and, several times, had to ask Peter to stop and show the move again. Peter did so without hesitation. It looked like he took great pleasure in teaching. He also covered many other topics related to the benefits of the Navigation system. Altogether, it took six hours. Afterwards, Dina thanked Peter, wished him well, and together with Igor, returned to the road, trying not to get caught in the darkness.

  Igor drove the jeep. Dina was quiet.

  “What do you think?” Igor asked. “Do we have a case here?”

  “I don’t know if we have a case, but I’m sure we have something unusual. Something real.”

  On the way home, anytime they had a free moment, on the plane, the train, the bus, they would be glued to the video Igor recorded. Back home, Dina returned the original clip to the university. The results were inconclusive.

  Over the following months, not only did Dina watch Peter’s lessons, but she also started practicing, slowly getting some strange and unusual results. As of today, she’d gotten to the point where she could briefly scan a detailed map or chart, and easily capture and later recall, all the details. She could briefly scan the multiple obstacles and physical objects and then, permitting her mind to navigate her body freely between these obstacles, would close her eyes and walk between them.

  Four hours of Peter’s teaching was converted into almost fifty hours of Kerzhaks Navigation training material. Dina documented and analyzed every move and every turn.

  Dina turned off the light and left the gym. On the way up to her condo, she was planning what she would do on Sunday. She decided, for today, that she wasn’t going to touch what was left of Roman’s diary. She would wait until the end of her meeting with Tamara. A fleeting look at the kitchen table, a flick of the light switch, a quick shower, and she was in bed. Dina drifted away the second her head touched the pillow.

  At around 8 a.m. Dina opened her eyes. Hello, new day. Eight o’clock. I’ve become spoiled. Dina was on her way to the coffee maker when the phone rang. Tamara was on the other line.

  “I hope I didn’t wake you. I, myself, am barely alive. Do we have our meeting, as scheduled?”

  “Good morning, my charming angel. Yes, we do. “

  “Do you have anything special that I should be prepared for?”

  “Nothing special. Please call Gregory and ask him to come to the conference room at eleven. Also, make sure building security knows we are coming. I’ll be staying in the office for the rest of the day, so can you please have lunch delivered at 3 p.m.? I think that’s all I need from you, my dear. “

  “Good.”

  “Good. And Tamara, please come on time. We’ve got a lot to cover.”

  “Good.”

  “Don’t be so grumpy. I love you.”

  “Good, love you too.”

  The conversation ended and Dina knew that Tamara would be okay the moment she stepped into the office. Just more of Tamara’s usual drama. Dina was intimately familiar with it. She packed Roman’s diary into two envelopes, one with the parts she’d read, the other with the ones she didn’t. She took the pages she’d written and placed them in another envelope. At half past nine, she was ready. She decided to walk to the office. The streets were almost empty, the sun was shining and Dina was in a great mood. Her office building was two or three miles from her condo in the center of the city.

  When she reached her office building, the doorman opened the door courteously. The elevator took her to the fifteenth floor. Her office building had two wings: north and south. Dina’s company occupied the north wing. Her company had one conference room, a laboratory for Gregory, an office for Igor, an office for Dina, one empty office, and a pleasant receptionist area, with a sofa and a coffee table, where Tamara ruled her kingdom. Originally the office had no walls, only one large open space. There were windows everywhere; east, west, and north. Each office, including the lab, was planned so that it had a glass wall, giving the space an open, airy feel.

  When clients first entered the office, they were greeted by a large mirror installed behind Tamara’s desk, to create the feeling of a much larger space. In the corner of the reception area, there was a standing coat hanger. Dina insisted that one scarf and coat should always hang there, again to create the image of a busy company. But the biggest trick was a secret switch installed on the entry door of the office.

  When somebody opened the door, Tamara’s phone started ringing, a feature Igor called ‘ScumRing’. Tamara jumped to meet and greet the real customer and usually ma
de a ‘They can wait!’ gesture toward the ringing phone, making visitors feel welcomed and important. When Tamara asked to disconnect ‘ScumRing’, Igor installed a special switch at Tamara’s desk, so she could be more selective and manage who to impress.

  To get from the receptionist area to Dina’s office, which was on the north end of the space, visitors needed to zigzag around individual office walls. This too was specifically planned by Dina to create the impression that the office was much larger than it actually was.

  Today, Dina went directly into her office carrying two plastic bags. One with the envelopes containing Roman’s diary, and the other containing the remaining envelopes left in the limo from yesterday’s ride home. Dina turned on the air conditioner; one disadvantage of her office was that it was always hot. She sat down at her desk and looked around. Her eyes stopped on a frame mounted on a wall to the left of the door. Dina slowly moved toward it. The page, slightly yellowed by time, was framed under thick glass. Dina tried to preserve the original; a long time ago, she had placed a custom order with the framing company to make sure the colour and handwriting on the paper wouldn’t fade with time. She took the frame and removed it from the wall. She read the note inside as she cheerfully put it on her desk: Captain Dom, Lucy's Kitchen, Devil Bridge, Open Space, Gallery, King’s Table, Desert, Church, Horse Stable, and Golden Circle.

  What are you trying to say, Roman? What are all these names? Now I hope I can ask you.

  Dina smiled. She heard the phone ring from Tamara’s desk. Somebody was coming. She left her office and went to the conference room. Tamara was there already, holding a tray with two coffees in one hand, and her usual extravagant, colourful handbag in the other.

  “Welcome home, Dina. How was your trip?”

  “It was good. How is everybody at home?”

  “Don’t ask. Same old, same old, all sending you regards, and ready to kill you, too. You interfered with some quality family time with my kids today; be ready to pay for it.” Tamara smiled.

  “You know I’m always ready.”

  “Dina, you look strange, and different,” Tamara mentioned, scanning Dina’s face and body.

  Dina moved her hand over her head, checking that no hairs were sticking out. She always styled her hair so that it fell freely around her shoulders.

  “Oh! I know! No way! Why?”

  “Why what?” Dina was losing her patience. “What’s wrong?”

  “First of all, you aren’t wearing your lipstick!” Dina always used neutral pink lipstick when she was at work or in meetings. “Second of all, you’re wearing high-heeled shoes!” Dina preferred flat shoes. She also never wore jewelry.

  Dina replied, “I had no time for lipstick, and these aren’t high heels. They’re the shoes I wear at home, and I walked to the office, so relax. I look the same. Stop your nonsense and let us get back to work. “

  Tamara shook her head from left to right and sat down.

  “Don’t you tell me everything is okay. ‘Work, let us get to work.’ You don’t want to tell me what’s going on. Okay. Let’s get back to work.” And she produced an unhappy grimace.

  “I’ll tell you when we finish working, okay?”

  “Okay, so what’s going on?” Now Tamara’s grimace was curious.

  “Tamara, work first, please.”

  “Okay, okay, you win.”

  “Good, Tamara. Let’s start with the update, please.”

  “So we have four items to cover,” replied Tamara. “First, you know about the King’s clothing already. I submitted a request to the Japanese. I’m waiting for their reply. The clothing’s back in storage. Igor and Gregory are completing a forensic report. I asked the Munich clients for a one-day extension. “

  “Why do we need an extension? They may become suspicious. “

  “We need an extension because Saturday was a holiday in Japan, and our scumbags may not be in the office to reply to us in time. Munich also knows about the holiday; they are okay with the extension.”

  “Good thinking, Tamara.”

  “Now, about Jan Van Beers’ painting. We have a problem, a ‘technical challenge,’ according to Gregory. To prove the oil painting was done on a clear canvas and not on a pre-printed black and white photo, we need to remove some paint from the front. All of Gregory’s efforts to find traces of what he called…” Tamara took a piece of paper from her briefcase and read aloud, “…silver, halogens, silver bromide, chloride, or iodide from the back of the painting were negative. Removing oil paint from the front may damage the picture. According to Igor, Jan Van Beers had problems competing with the new innovation of the time, black and white photography. He started to lose clients and some newspapers claimed his portraits were painted over photo prints. No proof and no real evidence. Igor is completing his report for you.”

  “Who is the owner of the painting?”

  “Some collector from Canada.”

  “Do we know the motive behind his request?”

  “No, we don’t. But he asked us to finish our investigation two weeks from now. He may need our report before he auctions it off or sells it to a private collector. “

  “What’s the price range for the original painting?”

  “Our assumption is twenty-five to thirty-five thousand.”

  “And he’s paying us ten for two weeks of work? Very strange. Ask Igor to investigate the owner, his motives and events. Ask him not to be shy, and to explain to the owner the possible damage this could do to the painting. Also ask Gregory why he couldn’t get a micro material analysis from the back of the painting? He’s done it before.”

  “You know what he will say. He needs new equipment; the old equipment was damaged when he was experimenting with stamps six month ago. I still don’t understand why he was destroying them by blowing them to pieces in a metal box?”

  “He needed to see how they would disintegrate under pressure. I can still hear the booms from the lab. Let it go, please. I’m already talking to the bank to get us a business loan for new equipment.”

  “Good. I’ll start breaking the furniture in my reception area. It’s old and you can get a loan to replace it. Brilliant!”

  “Good, do it. So, again, ask him what he can do. And tell Igor to talk to me if he needs additional instructions.”

  “Okay, next. We have another request for a Birth Certificate Authentication. It’s the third in the last month.”

  “Why is that a concern? We’re getting paid. I’m sensing that I’m not quite getting the entire picture from you. Please, Tamara, explain.”

  “The clients are paying on time, you’re right, without any problems. Our concern is the frequency of the requests and the link between the birth certificates. All the certificates are from the United Kingdom, from the Greater London region. All the certificates we worked on were for people who disappeared without a trace in the last sixty years. We have the certificates, but we have no idea what happened to these vanished people. I was surprised. They simply disappeared. I took the liberty of completing a list of Interpol contacts with whom we can share our concern.”

  “I’m not sure this is our concern but since you already have the list ready let’s move forward. Interpol will question our motives, so I need to get my legal hat on. Is that what you are telling me?” Dina asked.

  “Yes, if you believe that we have enough reasons to be concerned.”

  “Do we have a clear picture of who our client is?”

  “Not sure,” Tamara replied. “We are dealing with the local government’s Civil Administration Department, which is working on some kind of mapping project and sub-contracted a United Kingdom high-tech development company. When these companies are having data problems, they pass them on to the Civil Administration Department, who pass them on to us. The direct client is the Civil Administration Department, but anytime we ask any questions, they pass them on to the United Kingdom, and it becomes more complicated, with the high-tech company then passing us to the third party, with
whom they’re working. Sometimes it takes a week before we can get answers.”

  “Great, now we may have an international issue on our hands. And did we start doing this trace?”

  “One of the names was of a famous Hollywood actor. I was curious and asked Igor to see if there was any connection. When he found that this person was missing, he checked all the others as well.”

  “And when exactly did I tell you to go through our contracts and chase down Hollywood actors?”

  “You weren’t in the office. I meant to ask you. Sorry.”

  “Leave it with me. Next surprise, please.”

  “What’s next is not a surprise at all. You’ve been invited to go to Amsterdam to give a talk at a conference.”

  Dina and Tamara heard the phone ring from Tamara’s desk and, five seconds later, Gregory marched in from the reception area, passing the open conference room door without noticing Dina and Tamara on his way to the laboratory. There was a click on the lab security pad, the sound of a closing door, and silence again filled the office.

  “How typical. No hello, no goodbye,” said Dina.

  “Lunatic. Next time he asks me for tea, I’m going to put garlic powder in it. Somebody needs to teach him manners. I bet you that he’s not going to come out at eleven. You’ll need to ring the bell at the door of his lab and beg him to come out, you’ll see. It’s no secret why, at forty-five, he’s married to his microscope.”

  “Okay, leave him alone. He may be a strange bird, but he is smart and resourceful. What about the conference? What topic? And when?”

  “Topic, topic.” Tamara again looked in her briefcase for another piece of paper. “The topic is ‘Tools to Detect and Prevent the Use of Lead for Smuggling’.”

  “And who is the conference for?”

  “The European Union Police Association. I’ve already booked you a ticket and a hotel, one of the best. They will pay for business class, the five-star hotel, dinner, limo, all the kabuk-ka-bull.”

  “All the what?”

  “Kabuk-ka-bull. My grandpa used to say that. Does it sound funny? Kabuk-ka-bull.”

  “And when is this kabuk-ka-bull happening?”

  “A week from now. Your trip is only three days, unfortunately. Your talk is on the second day, from two thirty to three thirty. One hour. We have enough time to prepare. I checked your calendar; you have no meetings, and of course, no vacations planned. And I agreed to revoke your punishment for rescheduling our meeting yesterday if you go.”

  “And why are you so merciful, may I ask?”

  “Simple. Because they invited your secretary to attend too, and to be your helper when required.”

  “And you decided it’s required?”

  “I assumed. You can cancel my ticket and hotel any time. So, are we going?” Tamara pushed her lips forward into a pout, like that of a little girl in all her innocence.

  “I’ll see. I’ll let you know.” Dina smiled. Tamara was a funny person. She knew how to keep Dina’s spirits up at the most difficult times and had been a great asset to the company, regardless of her totally weird and vulgar behaviour from time to time. “Anything else happened while I was away?”

  “Nope. How were your meetings? Do we have a new contract?”

  “I’m not sure if I want to take it. Everybody’s overloaded with work. I’m almost losing control. “

  “Please don’t make any jokes, Dina; seriously, are we getting a new contract? We are all going to pull in and work overtime, if required. Gregory needs something challenging, before starting his explosion experiments again. Igor is very disappointed with this entire King business, you cannot imagine. I can help too. I can deal with the clients, you know?”

  “Yes, I know now.” Dina smiled. “We’ll see. What time is it now?”

  “Eleven ten. We’ll be waiting for Einstein until tomorrow,” Tamara sarcastically said in reference to Gregory. “I’ll call him now.”

  “Please do, and then come to my office.”

  “You promised to tell me what is going on.”

  “I’ll do it when you and Gregory are in my office.”

  Dina left the conference room. Tamara went to her desk and dialed Gregory’s lab number.

  “Your majesty is invited to join us at Dina’s office. Your boss asked me to tell you: you are ten minutes late, so you better hurry.”

  Gregory’s irritated voice on the other side replied, “You’re interrupting me! I’m coming! Stop interrupting me please!”

  Tamara hung up and almost ran to Dina’s office, trying to get there before Gregory.

  Dina was sitting at her desk holding the framed page in her hands. Tamara took the chair on the left. She sat quietly. It took more than five minutes before Gregory appeared. He moved slowly, dragged his chair closer to the desk and mumbled, “Good morning to all.”

  “Good afternoon, Gregory. How are you doing?” Dina asked.

  “I’m okay. I’m working on the Jan Van Beers case, and would like to spend more time doing so without interruptions.”

  “Sorry, but I had the impression that you are in my office now because Tamara asked you to come?”

  “That’s correct, but I was thinking you could have the meeting without me.”

  “Do you have any good news?”

  “Not really.” Gregory’s left hand moved to his bald head, scratching behind his left ear. “You know, Dina, I can get to the second layer of paint from the front without doing any damage to the painting, but Jan Van painted so many layers, I can’t imagine how long it took him to finish the portrait.” Gregory stood up and moved closer to Dina. It was his usual manner of talking to people. For some reason he always moved closer to the person he was talking to, almost touching their nose with his. “You know, he was a great painter, his father was a philosopher, and he was also a great womanizer.”

  “Good subject knowledge, Gregory, but how can it help us discover if the painting was made over a print?”

  “I don’t know. I need new equipment, I have no tools. I asked all around; no luck. When are you planning on buying new equipment?”

  “I don’t know, sorry. I think I can help you with your research though.” Dina always had a way. Usually her way was less scientific and unorthodox, and usually Gregory didn’t approve.

  “If it’s real paint and not done over a print, to get to its level of complexity, Jan Van Beer would have needed to do a number of drafts or sketches with charcoal or ink. Can we see any of them in the painting beneath the final oil layer? That way we can prove he did not use a printed canvas.”

  “How? I don’t understand,” Tamara intervened.

  “Simple, simple, simple,” replied Gregory. “If he had a black and white print on a canvas, he had no need to do drafts or sketches. It would be a waste of time. All the details are on the print already. It’s not like he knew we would be investigating his painting one hundred and twenty years later.”

  “Can you do it, Gregory?”

  “I’ll try.”

  “Don’t work too hard, Gregory, but be productive,” Tamara said sarcastically. She smiled, and before Gregory had a chance to react, jumped from her chair and hugged him.

  “Both of you sit down!” commanded Dina. Gregory gently maneuvered out of Tamara’s hug, and both of them sat down.

  “What I’m going to tell you now cannot leave this office. I’ll tell Igor tomorrow.”

  Dina walked over to the wall and removed the picture frame which contained a piece of paper that Dina knew could be traced back to Roman – the mapped instructions to their meeting point in Derchany, twenty years prior. She had framed and displayed the document to act as a reminder of her childhood, and an unwavering connection to her brother.

  “Gregory, I’ll ask you to take this framed page and compare it with any of the pages in this envelope. “Dina took the envelope with Roman’s diary pages, the ones she had read already, and put it in front of her. “In this envelope are pages from my brother’s diary. Actu
ally, photocopies of what looks like my brother’s diary. I’m not sure how much we can learn from comparing the original with an enlarged photocopy, but please do your best. I need your analysis by tomorrow morning.”

  Tamara was staring directly at Dina’s face, her mouth half-open.

  “Dina, how did you get photocopies of your lost brother’s diary? Is he alive?” Gregory asked.

  “I don’t know… Yes.” Dina smiled. “I hope so.”

  “Can I take the page out of the frame? I know you mentioned that it was pressurized.”

  “You can do whatever you need to do, Gregory.”

  “You know, Dina, I can only approximate my analysis of materials. It is a photocopy, but I’ll try. Can I go now?”

  “Yes, Gregory, and thank you. I appreciate what you’re doing, I do.”

  “Yes, I know.” Gregory left the room.

  Dina’s big brown eyes and small potato-shaped nose morphed into a funny and cute expression of pure joy. She was really happy.

  “Tell me! Tell me more, please.” Tamara moved her chair closer to Dina’s desk.

  Dina smiled and closed her eyes.

  She told Tamara about the mysterious man, about the envelope, about her hope that it was really Roman.

  When she opened her eyes, she saw that Tamara’s eyes were filled with tears and she was surrounded by used tissues. On the floor, on her chair, on her dress, and even on her shoulders.

  “I’m so happy for you. So happy! We’ll go celebrate. I will organize everything, don’t worry.”

  “Okay, okay, we’ll go. But first let’s be sure we have a reason to celebrate. You can go home now. I need to do some work. Are you okay?”

  “Of course I’m okay. I’m so happy for you, Dina, so happy…”

  It took another five minutes before Tamara relaxed, tidied up, and left the office on her way home.

  Dina decided to let Gregory work, and after a short break, sat in front of the envelope with the rest of Roman’s diary. She planned on finishing it today. It was almost one in the afternoon.

  Lunch will be delivered in an hour. Let’s do it. Dina took all the pages out of the envelope. She positioned her chair back to a comfortable forty-five degree angle, just as she liked it, and began reading.

  Two weeks have passed since I touched my diary. I’m in Corridor One. I have one hour every day during which I can write. So how did I end up in this place? When I returned from Derchany back to the train station, I could not believe my eyes. The place where our train had been was empty. First I thought I was mistaken, and I went back and forth from the train station building to the train, hoping I mixed up the location. But the train was not there. It was around noon, and according to Alex, the train was supposed to leave Derchany no earlier than eight in the evening.

  A couple of other trains looked the same as ours. I searched between them, hoping ours had simply changed its parking place. It was all in vain; the train wasn’t there. I knew that if our train left before its scheduled time, Dina would jump from it and wait for me at the water tank, as we agreed. I ran to the water tank. Dina was not there. I panicked. What had I done? Why did I leave Dina alone? I was so disappointed in myself; I was ready to kill myself. I could not move. I was afraid to think of what would happen to Dina if she were caught alone in a freight car. I went back to the station. I needed a plan. ‘We are survivors; we are survivors!’ rang in my head.

  First I needed to check when the next Central City train was departing. Dina had the address; I knew I was going to meet her there. In my head I repeated the address several times. I knew Dina was a strong and smart girl. Smarter than me, an idiot who failed at the one job he was given – take care of his little sister. Approaching any of the train station employees and asking for the freight train schedule would’ve been very dangerous. Instead, I left the station and walked towards the end of the passenger platform, looking for an empty bench where I could sit quietly and think. It was a long platform. As I anticipated, the last couple of benches were empty. I sat and thought about my options. Time was running out; a number of passenger trains passed by me. I had no idea what to do. Another freight train was leaving the station. Cars passed by me, picking up speed. Suddenly my eye caught somebody moving on the roof of the last car. One person, then another, was climbing onto the roof. When the car was opposite me, I saw two young teenagers sitting on the roof and waving in my direction.

  Yes. I knew where to get the information I required. I was going to ask the best source in Central City, the boys who train hop.

  Great, Roman, great. Dina stopped reading and straightened her chair. Go for it, they are a great bunch of people. She went back to reading.

  I had no problem finding train-hopping teenagers. I jumped from the passenger platform and passed a good dozen rails, approaching the freight train parked in front. Then, going along the train to the end, I hoped to find somebody there. My first search produced no results. Where are you? Moving on to the second train, I did the same, now going from the back to the front. Again, no results. You can’t hide inside, so where are you?

  One of the trains began moving. I was standing close to the passing cars, too close; I could feel wind moving through my hair. Nobody was around. Maybe nobody goes on these trains. I looked toward the back of the train. When the last car was positioned parallel to the big sand boxes, two small figures suddenly jumped from there, and like monkeys, climbed onto a moving car. The big sand boxes were positioned in between rail lines all over the station. The sand was used in case of a train brake fire. I never imagined those boxes could be used as a hiding place.

  Now I knew what to do. I moved far away from the station, assuming it was safer. Some of the sand boxes had covers, some didn’t. I was impressed by how many there were. I approached the boxes one by one, looking inside, hoping to find somebody there. Lifting the box cover was not an easy task. After a while I decided to look only inside the boxes without a cover. Escaping quickly from the covered box looked like it would be hard. After almost two hours of searching, I came up empty-handed. But I got lucky. I was looking toward the horizon with little hope when I noticed small rays of white smoke coming from one of the boxes. I quickly started walking toward it and slowed down ten meters from it. The box had a cover. The smoke disappeared, and for a second I suspected it had been my imagination. Then the small white cloud appeared again. I was not mistaken; somebody was smoking inside the box.

  I approached and gently knocked on the box.

  “What do you want?” asked a voice from inside.

  “I need help to find a train to Central City. “

  “And what’s in it for me?” the voice asked again.

  “I have nothing. I lost my little sister today; she was on a freight train, which was not supposed to leave before eight. I don’t know what happened, but there is no train. I need to find her. Please help.”

  “How do I know you aren’t working for the dogs?”

  “Who are the dogs? Why would I work for them?”

  “Have you hopped trains before?”

  “Never. It was my first time. We lost our dad and we have relatives in Central City.

  “Listen, I don’t know who you are and what you want. If you want to get to Central City, look for the trains with oil tanks. If the train has any, there’s a big chance it is going to Central City. If the train passes a bridge and turns right, you’ll know it’s the right train. If not, you need to come back from any station and get on the right one. Now leave me alone.”

  “Are you going to Central City?”

  “It’s not any of your business.”

  “If yes, can we go together?”

  “I said leave me alone. I’m not going anywhere today, and I’m not sure I’ll be going anywhere tomorrow.”

  Despite his rudeness, I thanked him and walked away, looking for a train with oil tanks.

  What began as a nice sunny afternoon suddenly changed into a cloudy evening. In the beginning, the wi
nd brought with it single drops of rain, but within two minutes I had to look for shelter from the downpour. Nothing around was safe. I had no choice and chose the first sand box standing near me. I opened the cover and jumped inside. The box was half empty, and after a minute of sitting on the sand, I felt comfortable and even warm. The box cover protected me from the rain, and I decided to wait until the rain passed. But I was mistaken; the rain did not stop, and it only got worse. The wind produced an annoying whistling noise. I was tired. I felt overburdened by the toll of a very emotional and stressful day. I thought of Dina, and fell asleep.

  As I opened my eyes, the light from the morning sun was shining on my face. Immediately, I realized that the box cover was open. Turning my head around, I noticed a pair of faces looking at me from outside the box.

  “Good morning, sleeping beauty,” said one face.

  “Slowly get to your feet and, without any sudden movements, come out of the box,” said the other.

  “Who are you?” I asked.

  “We’ll explain after. Now come out, slowly.”

  Once I was on my feet, I could see the two men standing close to the box, both of them wearing dark green uniforms. I was in trouble, big trouble. Both men were in their thirties, of an average size, but muscular. One of them had a gun on his belt. I had no choice. I lowered myself from the box to the ground.

  “Son, what’s your name?”

  “Roman.”

  “Where are you from?”

  “I’m from Central City,” I lied.

  “Do you have any documents, papers?”

  “No.”

  “Where are your parents?”

  “I have a dad; he is not here, but my sister is in Central City. I have an address. You can come with me if you want, you’ll see I’m not lying.”

  “Of course you aren’t. Now please come with us and please don’t try any ‘escape’ nonsense. It is for your own safety. Come, and we will see if we can help you.”

  I obeyed, and the three of us moved toward the passenger platform. As we approached the platform, I noticed other men in dark green uniforms. We went to the station building and then walked around to a building on the left. I was escorted to a room where I found three other teenagers, my age or older, sitting on the floor and playing cards.

  “Hi.”

  All three looked in my direction, but nobody said hi back. They continued playing cards, ignoring me. I too sat on the floor. In the next hour or two, another five teenagers were escorted to our room. Some of them knew each other and struck up a conversation. But some of them, like me, were sitting quietly. From the conversations around me, I understood the station had just been cleaned. The couple sitting near me exchanged stories about how they were captured. I had no choice; I needed to know what would happen next. I chose a boy sitting alone in a corner. Nobody paid attention when I stood up and moved to him.

  “My name’s Roman. This is my first time here; do you know what’s going to happen to us?”

  He looked in my direction, and then with a sharp hand gesture told me to sit. I sat on the floor near him.

  “First they will ask you about your family, and then they will sort us by location. Then there will be an escort. Only during the escort, can you escape. Do not try to escape before the escort. They have permission to shoot.”

  “What is the escort? Where are they escorting us?”

  “The lucky ones will go to their families. Some will go to an orphanage, and if you have a history, you’ll go back to the booth.”

  “What booth?” I asked.

  “Jail, Stupid. Jail for young offenders. Where did you come from?”

  “I don’t have a history.”

  “Good for you. Keep your eyes open so that nobody else will give you one. You see the one sitting in front? He was in the booth for having a knife that somebody else planted in his pocket. Watch your surroundings. My name is Victor. Relax; it could be a day or two before your interview.”

  “What? A day or two? I need to get to Central City to my sister. Is there any way I can get out of this room?”

  “Don’t even try. They will come to escort us to the washrooms. It’s the only time you are going to be out of this room. Relax, get some sleep. If you have anything to lose, go play cards with the fellows there. If not, sit quietly and wait for your interview. With this sweep, the army has been instructed to assist with the dispersing of the teens caught train-hopping. They should finish soon.”

  Victor was right. Two uniformed men came to the room. Two more were standing outside. They asked the teenagers, two by two, to come out of the room, and escorted us to the washrooms. Later in the day, the same two men gave each of us a piece of bread, one cucumber, and one tomato. A group of three card players asked if somebody wanted to play cards for food. Victor put his hand on my shoulder, signaling for me to sit quietly. Even though I hadn’t planned to play cards, I was very impressed by his protective behaviour and thanked him.

  Two days passed in the same way: food once a day, a guarded expedition to the washroom twice a day.

  The interviews started on the third day. The first two boys, one after the other, did not come back. When I asked Victor why, his answer was, “History. They have a history. They’re going right back to the booth.”

  Another boy came back smiling.

  “Going back home to the same place. Easy escape. We’ll see him again in three months,” Victor declared knowingly.

  The two others were quiet. Nobody was sharing their experiences of what was really happening during the interview.

  I was called in the morning on the fourth day.

  “Roman? Who is Roman? You’re next.”

  I was led out of the room and across the building’s backyard. The air was fresh, and I enjoyed breathing it in. There was a small one-story building on the opposite side. The men in green uniforms and I entered a room with two chairs and a table. On the table there was a pile of files. Two glasses, a jug with water, a couple of pencils, and a pile of white papers were in the middle. I was left alone, standing in the center. A man entered the room, scanned me from top to bottom, and said, “Why aren’t you sitting down? Are you waiting for an invitation?”

  “No, sir. But I’ll sit with your permission,” I said and sat in the empty chair opposite him.

  “What’s your name? Oh, yes. Your name is Roman. What about your last name? Do you have a last name, son?”

  “Yes, my last name is Tziporin.”

  Dina stopped reading. What are you doing, Roman? Who is Tziporin? She wrote Tziporin on a sticky note and attached it to the front of the envelope.

  “So, Tziporin, what is your story? Why are you train-hopping?”

  “I’m not train-hopping. I was sleeping in the sand box because of the rain. I’m going to my sister in Central City. I can give you the address; you can check.”

  “Okay, we will check. Where are your parents?”

  “I have no mom, but my dad is on vacation.”

  “And you are going home to Central City, correct?”

  “Correct.”

  “Do you know how to read and write?”

  “Yes, I do.”

  “Write your address there.” He shoved a paper and pencil in my direction.

  I wrote the address and gave it back to him. He did not look at the paper, but his face showed that he was very surprised.

  He opened one of the files and took a printed page, gave it to me and commanded, “Read it.”

  I took the page in my hand and started reading. It was a strange story. Most of the sentences were long and complicated. Some of the words were difficult to pronounce, and I had no idea what they meant. He was staring directly at my face. When I finished, he took a page from another file and started dictating, asking me to write what he was saying. It was not a difficult task. The writing took around ten minutes. He took my written page, put his glasses on and read it.

  “What grade are you in, son?”

  “I
’m not in any grade. I don’t go to school. My dad teaches us in the evenings at home.”

  “Really? He’s a great teacher. What else does he teach?”

  “Math, physics, geography.”

  “So if I go to this address, I’ll meet your dad?”

  “I assume so, yes.”

  He stood up, moved toward the closed door, commanded for the guards to open it, and told somebody outside the room, “Call the Captain and tell him we have a candidate for Corridor One.”

  When he came back to his desk, I asked, “Sir, what is Corridor One?”

  “Wait for the Captain,” he answered. “Hold your questions, and answer his clearly.”

  Then an older man walked into the room.

  At first he did not ask any questions. He took the file from the desk and browsed through the pages. Then he sat in front of me. He asked the same questions the first man asked me. I repeated my answers. More exams followed. One in math, one in geography, and one with tricky and funny questions. Every time, after reviewing my answers, he said, “Great, really great.”

  “Send his file to Corridor One, and check the address,” the old man said to the one who had first interviewed me, and then he left.

  “You must be a lucky son of a gun. Take him back to the room.”

  I was escorted back to the room. When I went in, all of the boys who were left in the room stared at me with surprise.

  “We were sure you had a history and had played us all. Where’ve you been for so long? Almost half a day for an interview?”

  I explained to Victor what had happened to me. He was surprised.

  “Hey, goons, anybody know where Corridor One is? Anybody had a vacation there?”

  The room was quiet.

  “Hope it isn’t hell for you. I hope they found your dad and sister,” Victor said.

  “I’m sure they did. “

  The next two days were the same. Fewer and fewer boys were left in the room. For now, for some reason, they did not call Victor for an interview. The next morning they called me back. The old man was sitting in the room.

  “Sit,” he commanded. “Roman, we checked the address you gave us. Our people went to see if your dad was there. We did not find your dad or your sister.”

  My heart stopped when I heard his words. It couldn’t be true. Dina was supposed to be there.

  “My sister is there!” I screamed.

  “Relax, nobody is there. The unit is sealed and closed. Neighbours saw a couple and a girl, maybe your sister, leaving there around a week ago. She was dressed nicely. Nobody knows where they are now. But I promise you that I will be sending my people in the next two weeks to check again. If we find them, we will deliver you to them. Army Captain’s promise.”

  “What am I doing ‘til then? Can I go?”

  “No, you can’t go now. You are going to a special place called Corridor One. It is a special school for kids your age. It will prepare you to be a leader, giving you great knowledge in special disciplines. Not everybody can get in there. You have the required knowledge, and you’re the exact age they are looking for. One day I will be proud that we discovered you. Everything else will be explained to you upon your arrival at Corridor One. Tomorrow morning they are sending a car for you. We have two more candidates; they will join you. You are lucky. As I told you, I’m sending my people to your address and we will keep you posted. “

  Nothing he told me registered in my brain. I was thinking, ‘Why didn’t they find Dina? Why didn’t they find Dina?’

  It was only when I returned to the room that I replayed the Captain’s words, one by one, and only then did I have some new hope of finding Dina and Dad.

  Dina left the diary page on her desk and went to the reception area. Lunch had been delivered and left outside the office entry door as usual. Dina knew that Gregory was working in his lab on the diary pages. She rang the lab doorbell and announced through the lab intercom, “Lunch with me, Gregory. I’m waiting for you in the conference room. Come out, please. I need your company.”

  Dina took the lunch to the conference room. She opened the bags, put cutlery for two people on the desk and waited patiently for Gregory to join her for lunch. She was prepared to wait. She was wrong. Gregory appeared in the conference room seconds after she sat down.

  “Good to see you, Gregory. Let’s have lunch.”

  “Dina, I opened the frame without a problem and checked the—”

  “Stop. Please, stop for a second. “Dina abruptly cut him off. “Sorry, Gregory, I’m reading the rest of Roman’s diary and going through an emotional rollercoaster. Please let’s have a quiet lunch and then we’ll talk business. Agreed?”

  “No problem,” replied Gregory, stabbing his fork into the salad.

  They ate quietly. Dina tried not to look directly at Gregory and he did the same. The silence was interrupted only when one of them asked the other to pass a dish. Dina finished eating first. Gregory was not in a rush. Everybody in the office knew one of his great pleasures in life was food, any food. Gregory always finished leftovers and was addicted to sweets.

  “I'm finished,” he declared. His plate looked cleaner than before lunch.

  “Good. Sorry again. I’m going through a difficult time; it’s hard to control my mood swings.”

  “It’s okay, Dina, I can understand what you’re feeling. If you’d allow it, I would like to explain myself.”

  “Go ahead.” Dina was ready for Gregory’s analysis, knowing that he would comfort her with his calculated scientific approach.

  “I’m not a professional psychologist or sociologist, but I took a number of courses and did some research myself and published some papers on various topics.”

  “I know, Gregory, don’t be shy. Shoot. I’m ready, don’t worry.”

  “Good. So, where to start? You buried your brother twenty years ago. By buried, I mean in your mind, since you had no real burial for him. Meaning, you loved him as a person who left our world. You had and you still have an image of him, the same one as the last time you saw him. I do not know, but maybe you’ve even had or have him following you in your life as a brother, alive. I don’t know. But some people even talk, discuss and get advice from relatives that have passed on, all using their imagination, visualization or sub-consciousness. I do not want to go into an analysis of your subconscious; I do not have enough knowledge of what you have experienced in the past. But, to put it simply, he was gone and he was still with you. Am I making myself clear?”

  “Crystal clear. Go ahead.”

  “Now, you suddenly have some evidence that he is alive. Not sure yet, but you have something that points in this direction. That part of ‘he is dead’ in your head is getting weaker and weaker. Hopefully, you’ll get proof and he will be alive. From the other side of your consciousness, you start having doubts about meeting the same brother you have been living with in your head for twenty years. It is normal to struggle with the waves of happiness leaving the ‘he was dead’ part behind, and the fear of ‘who is he, is he the one I anticipated to find?’ part.

  “Interestingly enough, in many cases the human brain also develops strong feeling-suppression tools and it is normal in these situations to have no feelings at all, allowing you the possibility to drift without happiness or fear. Usually, it will be followed by sadness or self-blame for not having feelings. I’m not sure what stage you’re in now, but that is the general principle applied to most of us,” finished Gregory.

  “You are absolutely right. I have happy moments when I think he is alive. I read his diary and get a clear picture of what he had gone through. But then I’m scared of going on and reading more. I tried to understand why, and I think you’re right: I’m afraid to face the fact that he has changed. He is a different man, unlike the one I knew before. He is no longer the person I had known as my brother. I fear it will push us apart and I will lose him again. I say, it is not important, it is my brother. Accept it. And you’re right; the moments when I
suddenly have no feelings toward him are the scariest. So, professor, what is your advice?”

  “Unfortunately there is no easy solution. It is a personal preference. Some people feel suppression is the best technique, so you can suppress your fearful feelings for a while. Or the opposite: suppress your happiness and say to yourself: let’s get to the end of the story and then we’ll sort out all these feelings and emotions. If you feel strong, my advice is to go with the second option. You are a strong woman. You have been through hell, fire, water and smoke in your short life. Get to the end of the story. Every time your emotions jump out, good or bad, try to suppress them by imagining putting them in a safety deposit box and recalling them later. I know, it is easily said, but not easily done. But I trust it and I am confident in you. You can do it.”

  Dina stood up from her chair, moved toward Gregory and embraced him.

  “Good move, Dina,” Gregory said with open sarcasm in his voice. “I ask you to hold your emotions and a second later you’re doing the opposite.” Gregory smiled.

  “Thank you.” Dina went back to her chair. “I needed somebody to talk to. Now we can get back to your research.”

  “Good. I’m doing a two-pronged analysis. One is handwriting, the second is diary page authenticity. The first one is almost finished. Comparing the handwriting from your page to the photocopy was an easy task. My conclusion is that the handwriting is ninety-eight percent identical. You’ll ask me: why not a hundred percent? The answer is that I am comparing the assumed original to a photocopy. The original has almost all the letters, but not complete sentences like the photocopied diary. Also, taking into account today’s ability to fake handwriting, using sophisticated pattern-recognition software, I’m leaving two percent for doubt. Now, page authenticity—a most difficult task. The photocopied pages were separated from the diary, one by one. I’m trying to get to the point where I can compare the edges of the original page with the ripped edges of the photocopies. I need four or five hours. To authenticate, I need to do tests with more than eleven pages. I’ve finished three for now.”

  “Good job, Gregory.” Dina smiled, and looked at the nervously crumpled lunch napkin in Gregory’s hands. “What’s wrong? What is bugging you? Gregory, I want to know all your concerns, please.”

  “You see, Dina, the photocopied pages are bigger than the originals. They’ve been enlarged in the process of copying.”

  “Yes, I noticed. “

  “They have been enlarged by twenty-three percent. I measured the percentage to know the ratio of sizes when I compared the handwriting. None of the copiers I know have auto set-up for twenty-three present; international standards are twenty-five and up. Whoever enlarged the pages did it manually to this specific size. Why? What could be the reason? I did an experiment with an original page. I enlarged from one to twenty-three percent and then to twenty-four percent. You know what I found? Do not take my words as one hundred percent proof, please,“ Gregory stopped.

  “Okay, I won’t.”

  “Enlarging to twenty-four percent or more would allow you to clearly see the paper's threads. It may be a coincidence, or somebody tried to enlarge pages for easy reading but hide the type of material it was written on. The second option is that the photocopier is a very old one, almost fifteen years old, and the enlargement was done manually.”

  “Interesting observation. Great job again, Gregory, you know I trust your expertise. I’m going back to my reading. I hope to hear from you in a couple of hours. Don’t worry, I’ll clean up here.”

  “Thank you for lunch.”

  “My pleasure, as always.”

  Dina cleaned the conference room and went back to her desk.

  She passed from the east to the west side of the office, her eyes looking around.

  One of the exercises Dina practiced in the last four years, following Kerzhak Navigation, was total mind concentration. To do this exercise she needed to find an object she could focus her eyes on. Then, after looking at it for some time, she would try not to think, to clear her mind of any thoughts. Then, she would go back to her regular daily activities, but from time to time would look back at the object and try to instantaneously stop, and delete, any thoughts she was having at that moment. With time and exercise, her brain started doing it automatically. The object then became a sort of brain anchor. No thoughts, no worries. She could hold her eyes on an anchor as long as she wished.

  In this state, her brain concentrated and from there she could enhance her brain’s capabilities for memory, decision-making, visualization and other activities. It was also a great exercise for relaxation. No thoughts, no emotions, no worries.

  This is what Dina was hoping to find in her office now. An object she could use as a visual anchor. She never did this exercise in her office, always at home or at the gym. She also never achieved great calming results, mainly because she never dedicated enough time to this exercise. But now she was willing to try. Her eyes stopped on a small Ficus plant standing to the left of her office door.

  Good enough. She took a seat, slowly moved her head toward the Ficus and tried to stop all thoughts. It did not work. Of course not, I need to practice later. I’ll continue reading.

  With her eyes on a diary page, she started reading.

  Victor was called for an interview. He came back after an hour, saying nothing. I was afraid to ask him how it was. He did not volunteer any information to me. The next two boys did not come back from their interviews. Then, Victor was called back.

  “Goodbye, Roman. Be well,” he told me.

  “Thank you for everything, Victor. I hope our paths will cross again someday in the future.”

  “Don’t wish for that.” he smiled. “Take care of yourself.”

  Strange person, that Victor, I thought. All of those boys were strange. I remained alone in the room. I felt abandoned. I lost count of the number of days I was there. I knew only that I could go to the washroom twice a day and received food once a day. I want to write more but I’m afraid they will take my diary. I asked the person who took me to the washroom and the one who brought food, “When will I be transferred?” Nobody knew.

  Dina felt goose bumps all over her body. What was Roman going through? What level of stress did these boys go through? Dina averted her eyes from the page she was reading and started looking at the Ficus. It was there, near the door. She did not feel any changes, but continued looking at the plant for ten seconds, then went back to reading.

  Everything I am writing now in my diary is written from Corridor One. We have a special room in the library where we can go for one hour each day, and read or write as we wish. It is great that I can write freely now.

  Dina could not believe the last sentence she read and she went back and read it again. She smiled. Suddenly she felt happy and relaxed. It’d be interesting to know: what is this place, Corridor One?

  One morning when I woke up, I found the door open. Two unfamiliar men were talking to the Captain. Then, they came in and asked me to follow them. They took me outside the building to a black car standing near the entry stairs. The car looked like an ambulance, but black. I sat in the back.

  The back was windowless, with the only illumination coming from a small interior car light. The car started moving and I had no idea in which direction we were going. In the beginning, the road was smooth, with no bumps. But after a while, the car started shaking and jumping, sometimes sending me from the seat with my head hitting the roof. I had no time to protect my head with my hands and got two or three bruises. I decided to lie on the seat. It was a wise decision. I had no idea how long our ride lasted, but it was evening when the door of the car opened and I was asked to get out.

  Another car, this one dark green, was standing in a parking lot. Trees surrounded the parking lot and I could not see any buildings, though I think this was because it was already dark. I was the only one who was required to switch cars. The people who accompanied me in the black car stayed there. My new driver po
inted to a small mattress on the floor and said, “Get some sleep. We'll be driving most of the night.”

  The car moved. I got down on the floor. The road was shaky and I could feel that the car was moving slowly now, maybe because of the darkness around us or maybe because of the conditions of the road. It was a blessing to have a mattress. The car’s movement put me to sleep as soon as I put my head down.

  Dina yawned. Like brother, like sister, she thought. So far, so good. Gregory’s concern about the enlargement of the copied pages came back to her. She looked at the copied page and then at the original that Gregory had left on her desk. If it’s a false story, then the person who did it is very, very cruel. And if it is false, then why? What is the reason for it?

  There were only around fifteen pages left to read. Dina stood and stretched her arms, bringing them over her head. She did three sit-ups, feeling pain in her leg muscles and lower back. It was the same back pain she’d felt yesterday after the flight. You’ve become an old lady. She then went to the reception area and took a bottle of water from the small refrigerator located behind the closet doors. On the way back she could see the lights flashing through the small slot under the lab doors. She was sure Gregory was there doing his experiments.

  Back in her chair in her favourite forty-five degree position, Dina began reading Roman’s diary again.

  The car stopped, and it woke me up. I had no idea how long I was sleeping. When the door opened, the sun blinded me.

  “Get out!”

  The voice came from somewhere outside. I obeyed and slowly regained my vision. The car was parked in front of a tall metal gate, around twelve feet high. A small entry door on my left was half-open. One man was standing near me, one at the door. When I looked around, I could see only forest. We moved to the door, and when I approached it, the man with me said, “He's all yours. He’s a good boy. I had no problem with today’s delivery. You!” He addressed me. “Good luck to you.”

  “Thank you,” I replied before I was escorted through the door. I stood in a relatively big square in front of a three-story building. Stone walls stood on both sides of the building, each around sixteen feet high. Electrical and barbed wire was everywhere, on the top and side of the walls. I would later learn that the walls covered the perimeter of the area and were placed about eight feet from the building. The walls had six guard towers with twenty-four hour surveillance. In front of the main building there was a large square paved with stone, and as we moved to the entrance I could hear every step my companion and I took.

  Dina had another bad feeling again and feared reading further. Where did they take you? Is it a jail? On the one hand they are not treating you so badly, but on the other... they took you to jail? She looked again in the direction of the Ficus hoping that her exercise would help relax her soon.

  “We are going to see the Director now. Please be on your best behaviour and clean your pants from all the dust you are carrying.”

  I had not noticed, but my pants were dirty from the dust and mud I had collected sitting in the back of the car. Using two of my palms and without stopping, I shook what I could from my pants. Upon entering, I noticed a couple of boys my age walking through the building. We took the stairs to the second floor. The Director’s office was at the far end of the building. There was a young man in an army uniform sitting to the left of the door. He was no more than ten years older than me.

  “Can we approach?” asked my companion.

  “Yes, Roman, you can go ahead. The Director is waiting for you. His file is in order; you can release the car.”

  I slowly entered the Director’s office through the open door and found myself in a room that looked like a library. Books were everywhere. Shelves ran from floor to ceiling, packed with books. All of the books were different sizes and colours. I had never been in a library before, but I’d read about them. I was astonished and stood there staring at my surroundings.

  “You’ve never seen so many books, have you? What do you think; how long will it take to read all of them?”

  The Director was sitting behind a large solid-looking wooden desk.

  “I think I’d never leave this room, sir.”

  “Yes, I thought the same when I was your age. Sit down. Welcome to Corridor One, your home for now. I read your file and I like what I saw there. We have fifty-four boys like you here. Our purpose is to teach you to become a great leader. We are not an orphanage; and we are not a foster home, either. Think of Corridor One as a school. But we are a different kind of school, one with discipline, and one which you cannot leave when you desire. Do you understand?”

  I was quiet. A school you can’t leave when you desire? Sounds like a jail.

  “Now, about discipline. We have a daily schedule for you, for the group you are going to be assigned to, and for all of the groups. It’s a schedule for twenty-four hours, seven days a week. What do you like to do in your free time?”

  “I like to write. I write in my diary.” The second the word ‘diary’ left my mouth, I regretted it. What if the Director confiscated my diary now?

  “Diary, you say? That’s great. I have a diary too. So you will have one free hour each day for your diary, if you want, or for something else you prefer to do. The rest of the day is scheduled for you. You’ll go to class, you’ll work in the kitchen and you’ll clean the yard and square. And you will behave according to our rules, understand?”

  “Yes.”

  “Now in case you have any problems with discipline, we will not punish you. We simply send you back to the worst orphanage in the country. In the entire history of Corridor One, we have done this only twice. One boy attempted to escape and one got into a fight with another boy. Michael, my assistant will show our – and now your – facilities and will give you a badge with a number. You will need to wear it at all times. Yes, I forgot. You’re allowed to write in your diary, but no names of people or personnel around you, okay?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  He called his secretary and directed him to show me around.

  “Roman, please make sure that I won’t see you in this office before your graduation from Corridor One. Secretary, please put Roman in Group Three.”

  We left the Director’s office. The secretary picked up a plastic white badge. “This is yours. We do not have a replacement for it, so don’t lose it. Your number is nineteen-fifty-four. Your teachers will call you by this number. All announcements will be made using this number. At night you will put the badge on your nightstand near your bed. Now let me show you the building.”

  We went down to the first floor, to the building entrance.

  “On the first floor we have the kitchen, where we prepare our food. Fresh food is prepared three times a week. We have kitchen storage with refrigerators.”

  We moved through the kitchen to an area with a dozen tables and benches.

  “Here, we eat. Each group is assigned a time for breakfast, lunch and dinner. You can’t take food to your class or to your room. No food leaves this area. Now here, we have our workshop.”

  The workshop was connected to the eating hall by a door. I saw four people working inside. There were many tools and a lot of machinery.

  “Here we fix or build, if required. You can only access the workshop with a supervisor. No tools leave this workshop. Every morning the tools are counted, and if you are going to work here, you will sign out each individual tool before you start using it. We will check for their return. Then we count every tool at the end of the working day. Next is our laundry room.”

  To get to the laundry room, we left the workshop from a side door and walked through a narrow passage. The laundry room was noisy. Big plastic boxes were everywhere. Three teenagers my age were moving the boxes, shoveling the contents of the boxes into washers or driers. The room was hot. The door opened and two boys came in, pushing a trolley with six new boxes. We left the room the same way we came in.

  “Great, I see you’ve put on your badge. Way to go.
You’ll get new clothes when we get a new shipment. We get shipments twice a year. The last one was two months ago. So you’ll need to wait for four months for the new one. Take care of what you have for now. On the second floor we have classes and the Director’s office. We have five groups of nine to twelve people in each class. You are assigned to Group Number Three. Each group has a unique schedule. Each group, in turn, does one week of housekeeping work. You saw Group Four doing work in the laundry room and workshop. The class schedule is on your bedroom door. The schedule is reposted weekly. You need to go directly to your class and never go to the other classes. You never go to the Director’s office or even near it. Now let us go to the third floor.”

  We climbed the stairs to a corridor with six doors.

  “Each door leads to the bedroom of one group. You never ever go to the other bedrooms. Your door is the third one. Let me show you your bed.”

  We passed the other closed doors and the secretary opened the door to my bedroom. I saw two lines of beds. One line was near a wall without windows, the other one was opposite to it. Each line had six beds, with a nightstand near each bed.

  “That one is yours.” The secretary pointed to a bed in the line of beds near the window.

  “You are never to open the windows without permission. You keep your bed organized, like the others. Your nightstand will always be clean and ready for inspection at any time, day or night. Take a look at the door. Do you see the schedule? Good. I’m leaving you now. Your group will be here before dinner. Take care of yourself. Follow the group and you’ll be okay. I’ll come to see you tomorrow before lunch. Also, never touch anything that isn’t yours. I’m sure you’ll be okay. See you tomorrow.”

  I was left alone in the room. I noticed the walls inside the building had been painted half-green, half-white. The same was true for my bedroom. Everything was neat, clean and organized. Each bed had a metal headboard. I imagined sleeping in this bed. It had been a long time since I had slept in my own bed. I hoped news of Dina would come soon. I hoped I would be reunited with dad and Dina. Until then I would follow the rules and I would be the best student. I waited around an hour until the bedroom door opened and one by one, nine boys entered the room.

  “Hi,” I said. Some replied; some ignored me and sat on their beds. Each of them had four or five notepads. Five minutes later, I heard an announcement: ”Group Number Three, lunch time.” One by one, the boys started leaving the room, leaving the notepads on their nightstands.

  “You’d better follow,” said one of the boys before leaving the room. I did.

  It’s now been three weeks since I came to Corridor One. I’ve adapted to the schedule, and even participated in housekeeping work last week. On one hand it was difficult, but it was also fun. I’m writing for you, Dina and Dad. I understand now that at the end of my Corridor One courses, I will be transferred to a higher school. I do not know when and where, but my diary will be confiscated and stored in an archive. Only I or my relatives can take it from there. I hope you will find me before then. But if not, you’ll get my diary anyway.

  Dina stopped reading. Again she needed to look at her Ficus to suppress her feelings. Feelings of regret and worry for Roman. She also felt scared again. What the hell is this place called Corridor One? I’m definitely going to assign Igor to find out more about it. Staring at the Ficus worked; she slowly relaxed and went back to reading.

  My daily schedule is busy. We wake up at six thirty. Ten minutes later, all of the groups stand in a line outside their bedrooms for the count. Badges need to be placed on the right side of our chests. After the count, the line goes directly to the square outside the building, no matter the weather. Each group has a designated space in the square. We separate, a hand-distance between us, and for twenty minutes we do an exercise routine. I love it. After the exercise routine, we go back to our rooms and have twenty minutes to wash and clean up. The washrooms are always clean. Everybody tries their best to leave no mess.

  We go back to the bedroom. We wait for the call to breakfast. Each group has a different time for it. Some days we are first; some days, last. Breakfast is usually something hot. I like eggs and sausages. Exactly twenty minutes later, we are back in our rooms. I got eight new notepads. I'll explain later what I am writing in them. Each boy picks up four notepads, and when called, we go to class. For now we have our own class, second from the end. I sit at the back, but it doesn't matter. I like it. We have two classes in the morning and two classes in the afternoon. About the classes – later. Lunch is good. The two classes in the afternoon usually end around 4:30. We go back to our room. There is a study room on our floor. I may go there, or I may stay in the bedroom until dinner time. In any case, I need to do part one of my homework.

  Now, more about the classes, and parts one and two of the homework.

  Every day our teachers come from outside the compound. Some will stay the night and supervise us to make sure we follow the rules; some will go back to where they came from. I have no idea who is bringing them to Corridor One or how. We have the following classes: mathematics, physics, chemistry, biology, and geography. The teaching method is a strange one. The teacher calls us by numbers: mine is nineteen-fifty-four. Each teacher explains the new material, and we need to write down everything he says. In the beginning it was hard for me to do. But now I can write on the fly. So the teacher speaks and we write, write and write. Some days the teacher will check our homework, usually asking somebody to come to the front of the class. I was called twice, and both times the teacher was happy.

  Now about part one of the homework. After classes, around two hours before dinner, we need to copy what we wrote in class to a new, clean notepad. Everything we documented earlier in the day, word for word, needs to be nicely re-written, sometimes in colour, into these new notepads. It must be very, very neat. Part two of our homework, after dinner, is completing the exercises, assignments or research given to us in our classes.

  For research we use the study room. Everything else can be done in our room, using the nightstand as a writing desk. So we don’t have free time between Monday and Sunday. Oh, I forgot to mention, we have classes on Saturdays too. You know how I like to study. I love it.

  Dina smiled. Yes, I know you are the smartest and brightest one.

  Usually these days, I have no free time.

  The last time I wrote in my diary was six months ago. Now it is winter here. We are following our regular schedule. It has become difficult to do our gym routine. Snow is everywhere. From the window I can see only white. Miles of white trees. I got my new winter clothes. New classes have been added to our schedule. Topography, meteorology, anatomy and physiology are very interesting. Dina, I love you. Last week our group was assigned to clean snow from the roof of the building. Getting to the roof was not easy. From the roof you could see the fence with the electrical and barbed wire. I could see that the snow outside the perimeter almost reached the top of the fence. I could see the roofs of all of the towers completely covered with snow. Cleaning the snow from the roof was a dangerous task. The roof is angled, less than forty-five degrees, and we had difficulty standing on it. We were secured with ropes and tried to finish our work as soon as possible. My favourite day is Friday. On Fridays, we can volunteer to do any of the activities and to help the group doing housekeeping. I like to volunteer in the workshop. Like Dad, I try to do work using my hands. No news from Dad or Dina.

  The winter is over. We are doing a lot of homework. Three months have passed. Today our teacher in physics class gave us an interesting problem. I have been sitting for almost an hour and can’t figure it out. Dina, I love you. Here is the problem: on an angled, thirty-degree flat floor stands a box with a ninety-pound weight. If the box is released, with what speed will the box reach the end of the floor? No news from dad and Dina.

  Dina stopped reading. She had a strange feeling that Roman was telling her more than what he had written. But what was he saying? It was late and she had
one more page to read. She’d deal with her feelings later.

  Today is one year since I came here. I have many good friends. We study hard. We are working hard, too. Some boys have left Corridor One. Two new ones joined us. I knew one of them. I was happy to see him again. Nobody breaks the rules. My supervisors at the workshop are happy with my work. I love you, Dina. It was hard last week to clean all the weeds between the building and the fence. We had to do it by hand. Luckily there was only eight feet between the building and fence. I think I like winter more. The snow is soft; we can jump into it and it doesn't hurt too much.

  Winter is back. My group will get a roof cleaning assignment soon.

  It is December already. My group is doing well in all disciplines. We started our leadership workshops. We choose a group leader for the session who directs the work and then presents the group’s work to a panel of teachers. Usually there are three teachers on the panel. Our group got an assignment: ‘How to organize a search for hidden treasures.’ Dina, I love you.

  My group chose me to be the leader. I started by assigning tasks to my group. Some took care of the maps, some got the equipment. Usually the treasures are hidden deep in the ground. In the end, I developed a list of places where treasures could be hidden. My group worked like a well-oiled machine. I even tried to create a group slogan, like: ‘We will survive. We are survivors.' Love you, Dina.

  Ficus, where are you, Ficus. Dina’s eyes watered. Staring at the Ficus did not help. With great difficulty, she held her tears. Where is my bottle of water? What is going on? This is the end of the diary! I have no clue what happened to Roman! What is Corridor One? More questions than answers. I need to relax. What is the time?

  It was already 6 p.m. She called Gregory's lab. There was no answer. She went to the lab door. The door was locked. There was a sticky note attached to it: Dina, I finished all of my experiments; did not want to bug you. I will report tomorrow at ten. Gregory.

  Nice, very nice. Dina went back to her office, closed the door, and began pacing from one wall to another, trying to think. Roman, you want to say something; you're under surveillance; you're being watched. I need to read the last two pages again. Your diary is too short. You are not writing every day, nor every week. Not even every month. You are writing when you want to tell me something. I need to read it again.

  Dina took the last pages and started reading again. Two minutes later, she ran to the photocopier standing near Tamara’s desk and made copies of the last five pages. Now she could highlight anywhere she wanted. After finishing the paragraph that started with, ‘The last time I wrote in my diary was six months ago. For the second time, she started reading again, this time underlining ‘Dina, I love you’ with a red marker. She found this phrase had been repeated at least four times.

  Now, let me read what is before and after the phrase. She tried to use all of her experience and intuition. Her meticulous, logical analysis and ability to discover links, sometimes in the most unusual and absurd situations, were Dina’s best talents.

  She read again: ‘Last week our group was assigned to clean snow from the roof of the building ……' What are you trying to tell me? I got it! I got it! Dina was so happy, she brought both hands up and screamed, “Woohoo!"

  ‘I could see the roofs of all the towers completely covered with snow.’ There you are! If you can see the roofs of the guard towers, the guard in the tower can’t see you. I hope I’m right. The roof of a three-story building is much higher than the roofs of the towers. Okay, next.

  ‘Here is the problem: on an angled, thirty degree flat floor, stands a box….’ One second. On an angled, thirty degree. Angled, angle, angle. Where did you have ‘angle’ before? Oh! Yes! The roof was angled, less than forty-five degrees. You mentioned the angle in two places; why? I need to read both paragraphs again.

  Why, in your diary, did you need to mention a physics problem? I think you did it to explain something.

  Dina continued writing for a second, then stopped, took a clean piece of paper, a ruler from the top desk drawer, and started drawing.

  I’ll draw one half of an inch to represent one foot. The horizontal line is the ground. The thirteen-foot vertical line is the fence. I remember the height of the fence, Dina complimented herself, smiling. There were eight feet between the fence and the building. Now, the building. Three floors, each floor is ten – no, let's say eleven feet. So thirty-three. I hope there is enough space on the page. She drew another vertical line. Now, the roof. Forty-five degree angle. Great. Let’s go back to the diary.

  Dina started slowly reading each paragraph after the highlighted 'Dina, I love you' statement.

  Dina covered her face with both hands. Oh, my god! Oh, my god! You are going to try to escape from Corridor One by jumping from the roof. This is why you put this stupid physics exercise. You were telling me how you're going to do it. From thirty-three feet high, you will slide from the forty five-degree angled roof directly onto the big snowdrift behind the thirteen foot fence. Smart and brave.

  Dina went back to the diary pages. She compared her drawings to the paragraphs and words in the diary. She was sure, a hundred percent sure, that she had found what Roman hid so carefully behind his words.

  She went through the last two paragraphs of the diary. It was clear; Roman was giving her clues and directions to the diamonds, hidden somewhere in Derchany.

  'We will survive. We are survivors. Love you, Dina.' The last words of the diary magically brought Dina back to reality. Suddenly all her emotions were gone. The late hour caught up to her, and exhausted, she needed to go home. She tried to organize her desk by putting the diary pages and her drawing back into the envelope. Within two minutes, her desk was clean. She moved the framed diary page to the left side of her desk. I’ll ask Gregory to mount it back on the wall first thing in the morning. She was ready to go home. She was at the door when she took one last glance at her desk. All good; ready for Monday.

  In the office building’s lobby, Dina asked the security guard to call her cleaning company and ask them to clean her office. The cleaning company was used to getting late-evening calls with requests for cleaning. Dina waited for a taxi for five minutes. Twenty minutes later, the taxi stopped in front of her condo.

  The concierge was the same one who met Dina on Friday.

  “No messages and no deliveries, Miss Greduer.”

  “Okay; wake-up call, as usual on Mondays. I would like to get the Financial Post newspapers, too.”

  “No problem. Anything else?”

  “No. Thank you, good night.”

  “Good night, Miss Greduer.”

  She headed to the public elevator again.

  Once inside her condo, she found bread and milk for an evening snack. It was late in her daily routine to start her Kerzhak Navigation now. She took a shower and went to bed. Lying in bed, she recalled the last two pages of Roman's diary. She smiled a smile that would not leave her face. She was happy.

  Dina fell asleep smiling.

  Company Team

  Dina opened her eyes. The sky was grey. Very grey. The wake-up call from the concierge rang three times. It was the usual; Dina always woke up a few minutes before the wake-up calls. Her biological clock competed with all wake-up devices. Yes, it is going to be a rainy day. Raindrops were running down her bedroom window. I need to go shopping today. The fridge is empty. Dina’s morning rituals were quick and simple. Should I take a shower? She hated taking morning showers. Nope, I'm clean enough for what I am going to do today. There was nothing to eat for breakfast. A push on the cappuccino button of her coffee maker and the smell of freshly grounded coffee beans filled the room. She went through the highlights on the first page of the newly-delivered newspaper. None of the current events could get Dina’s attention. Her cappuccino was ready. Dina was dressed and ready to go. She walked to the elevator, one hand holding the hot cup, another holding her briefcase and condo keys.

  I need to check when my elevator
will be fixed. When she reached the lobby, she stopped. She opened her briefcase and checked that she hadn't forgot anything. The envelope with Roman's diary was there. It reminded her that she needed to talk to the concierge.

  “Yesterday I left my business card with my office number. Could you please make sure it was not misplaced? It is very important.”

  “Yes, we have it. I actually took a photocopy and also placed it in our journal of visitors, to remind others, in case I'm not here.”

  “Great. If somebody comes looking for me, please provide them with my office number and ask them to call me. Can you also call for a taxi and please add the bill to my monthly account.”

  “Will do, Miss Greduer. Don't worry. Have a great day.”

  “You too. Oh, sorry, I forgot to ask. When will my elevator be fixed?”

  “I inquired this morning and I'm waiting for the company to reply. My understanding is that they were looking for a part ordered last week. Could I call your office with the answer?”

  “Don't bother. I’ll check with you when I’m back from work.”

  “Okay,” the concierge said, and then looked at a notification he just received on his computer. “Miss Greduer, I am sorry. The elevator maintenance company just confirmed they will be here on Wednesday. Did you sign the form permitting them to access your unit when you are absent?” He asked.

  “Yes, of course.” Dina smiled, said goodbye and left the lobby.

  Dina took a taxi. She imagined her meeting with Roman all the way to her office. What if he doesn't come? In that case I'll need to deal with the mystery man who delivered the envelope to my condo. Why am I thinking negatively? I will see him today. Otherwise why would he write ‘Dina, I will be in town next week. Hope to see you, R.’ Yes, exactly: next week. Girl, stop worrying, relax and go do your job.

  Through the taxi window, Dina stared at the rainy street, empty of people. The rain will continue all day. Suddenly she remembered: I have my dentist appointment this afternoon. Tamara scheduled her dentist appointments on the second Monday of every month. Dina had one negative reminder of her childhood, and it was her teeth. She did not remember taking care of them until her early twenties. Now she and her dentist were doing all that could be done to fix them. Her braces added a funny, childish look to her smile.

  Her taxi came to a stop in front of her office building. The building was quiet. Dina used her office keys to open the door. The door was unlocked. Dina heard Tamara’s phone ring. Good, she is here already.

  “Good morning, Dina, how are you today?” Tamara was standing in front of her desk, smiling.

  “I'm okay. You're here early. Did something happen?”

  “No, I am just in a great mood today. See, I'm dressed in blue.”

  Dina noticed that Tamara was wearing a light blue dress with a blue scarf and blue sandals.

  “Do you like it?”

  “Yes, nice and refreshing.”

  “I'm even chewing blue gum.” Tamara opened her mouth and stuck out a blue tongue.

  “Yikes, that's kind of gross. How are you going to work today, especially if we have visitors? You'll scare all my clients. Go wash your mouth, and stop with this nonsense.”

  “God.” Tamara made a sad grimace. “I did it so you would have fun.”

  “I understand. What does my schedule look like?”

  “We have our team meeting at nine, you have your dentist appointment at one and we need to discuss our presentation at four.”

  “You mean my presentation?”

  “Yes, your presentation. That's why I came earlier today, to check if you didn't cancel my flight? You did not. So I am assuming I'm going with you. Am I?”

  “Tamara, I do not know yet. We have enough time to decide until January.”

  “But I need to send a confirmation that you will be there for the talk.”

  “I will, so confirm it. But I am not sure you will be going. “

  “Why? What have I done wrong? I've never been to Amsterdam.”

  “Okay, I'm teasing you. You are going too, on the condition that it won’t impact the office too much having both of us gone at the same time.”

  “Thank you.”

  Dina left her office. Tamara took all the required files and went to the conference room.

  The time was five to ten. Dina’s’ entire team was in the conference room waiting for her.

  “I am always the last to know what is happening in our company. Nobody tells me anything. Everything is a secret.”

  Dina overheard Igor’s voice when she stepped into the conference room.

  “Stop it. Dina, can you please ask Holmes to stop torturing us every morning? I called him yesterday evening and reported everything we did on Sunday at the office. Now he's complaining that we did not call him to come and help us.”

  “And why did we not call him on Sunday? So he could relax and summon his energy to work over-time this entire week. Correct?” Dina said, smiling, and she took her seat at the head of the table.

  “Today's agenda is as follows,” continued Dina in a commanding voice. “Report of my trip to Australia, Jan Van Beer's project, Birth Certificate Authentication issues, conference in Amsterdam, and my personal project.”

  “Can we start with your personal project?” this came from Igor. He was sitting with Gregory on the same side of the table, opposite Tamara.

  “No, we will follow in the order I mentioned. I will ask everybody to pay attention to all of the items we discuss today. I have a feeling we may have some real challenges this week. Let’s start with my trip to Australia.”

  Dina stood up and attached the map of Australia that she’d brought with her to the white board.

  “A week ago I left for Australia knowing that somebody had paid for my business class tickets and hotels. We had no idea where this generosity came from. Now we know that it was the Australian federal government. It was from the department that deals with fraud. They met me at the airport, and I had meetings in Sydney for two days. First thing, an overview. One of the Australian territories is Queensland, which is home to a number of ancient pyramids on its eastern shore. These pyramids are around twenty-three to twenty-four hundred years old. They have a certain similarity in structure to the Mayan pyramids, even some resemblance with one of the Machu-Picchu pyramids. The number of discovered pyramids is kept secret. Don't ask me why.”

  “An archaeological team from Sydney University had limited access to one of the pyramids. Based on the documents that were presented to me, this pyramid has two levels. Level one has five separate rooms. Level two is one big hall. The archaeologists discovered that the walls on the second level are covered with ancient writings, charts, and embedded pieces of bronze and gold. There is writing all over the perimeter. Nobody knows where it starts and where it ends. The walls have been photographed. The embedded pieces have been documented, a cast was made from each piece, and their exact position on the wall was measured and reproduced in the university lab.”

  “There were two publications in scientific magazines. One publication was theoretical and dealt with the nature of the pyramid's inhabitants. The second publication was about the use of bronze. Two months ago, out of the blue, a professor from the University of Tomsk contacted the head of the Sydney University’s Archaeological Department and informed him that he’d decoded all writing inside the Australian pyramid, and that he was ready to pass the decoding to Sydney. The name of the Russian professor was Alexander Borisovich Kronkin. The department head passed Kronkin’s message to the Dean, and the Dean reported it to the government. How did the Russians have access to the inside of the pyramid? The government decided to contact Kronkin to authenticate his claims. In return for the deciphered writing, Sydney paid five thousand US dollars to Kronkin and received a fax of the two pictures of the inside walls of the pyramid, along with the decoded writing. The Australians then mapped the photos of the walls of the pyramid to ensure their authenticity and began matchin
g the Russian decoding and interpretation to the writing, charts and the embedded pieces.”

  “This task took three weeks to complete. At first, the team assumed that the pictures that were provided by the Russians showed the writings on the wall sequentially from start to finish. Their assumption turned out to be wrong. They saw that the pictures were taken randomly. The decoded text that the Russians sent was a set of instructions for the assembly of some small machine. It was interesting that the decoded text mentioned the words ‘memory’ and ‘particle’s speed’ twice. It was strange.”

  “Kronkin was contacted and asked to provide more proof of his claims. He faxed an additional six pictures. They were a perfect match to the real writings on the walls. There wasn’t any doubt that the Russians somehow got their hands on the information on the walls of the pyramid's second level. The Australians panicked. They started to make enquiries and investigate. They suspected everyone.”

  “Yes, another fact: The pyramids are located in a remote area near Gordonville, in the far-east. The entry to the pyramid was blocked and cemented. Since then, government inspectors visited the site. They could not find any forced entry from the air or underground. Nobody had tampered with the security systems. They concluded that the Russians got all of their information from inside the university. Who helped them and how, remains a mystery.”

  Next came the bad news. “Professor Kronkin was assigned to head an archaeological expedition in the Sakha Republic, located about two hundred miles south of the Arctic Circle. He managed to make one call from Yakutsk, the capital city of Sakha. His words were that the pyramid writings, charts, and pieces were a detailed explanation for a biological computer and that ‘they’ – nobody knows what he meant by ‘they’ – are about eight months away from the completion of the assembly of this computer. And based on Kronkin's claims, some parts are already working.”

  “Sounds like a science-fiction story or another money-scheming Russian fraud. The University is not really ready to move forward. This is why I wasn't pleased with the Australians. But, the Australian government continues to verify the truthfulness of Kronkin's statements.”

  “They want to contract our company to investigate the writing, charts, and pieces, and to help them solve this mystery. To do so, we will need to relocate to Australia for a good three months. I left them without an answer. We have two or three weeks to make our decision. Our company is at the top of the list. I signed a non-disclosure agreement and a letter of intent, giving us time to decide. Any questions?”

  Dina’s team was quiet. Gregory looked up at the ceiling. Igor was chewing the end of his pencil. Tamara finished writing the summary of Dina’s report and added, “Dina, did you have kangaroo for dinner?”

  The looks of all the participants were now directed at Tamara’s blue scarf.

  “You have one minute to get out of your seat before your skin becomes the same colour as your dress. Dina, can I kill this Homo Erectus?” came from Igor.

  “No, Igor.” Dina smiled. “Not now. If we take the contract, we'll use her to feed the alligators.”

  “Igor, you need an erectus. I eat kangaroos like chicken, and they have farms to grow kangaroos for food. I don’t get what's so funny?”

  “Okay, next topic: Jan Van Beers,” Dina went on. “Igor, we need to investigate the owner, motives and events. We need to explain to the owner what the possible damage to the picture could be.”

  “Yes, I would like to admit that Tamara immediately called me after your meeting on Sunday and explained my tasks. Since then I did some research –”

  “You see Dina, he knew all about it. He only needed – what did he call me? Ah, he needs an erectus,” intervened Tamara.

  “Shhh, please, we need to finish before my dentist appointment. Please Igor, continue,” Dina commanded.

  “So, in 1881, Van Beers exhibited two works at the Brussels Salon, both painted in the same style. I do not remember their names. One, a painting of a yacht named ”Sirene”, was suspected of being a “photo-peinture”, a painting created over a photograph. Van Beers agreed that experts could scrape off the paint to determine the truth of the allegations. An investigation followed, and eventually Van Beers started legal proceedings. It gave him press all across Europe, especially when the report found in his favor and proved that he was a good and honest artist. These are known facts. If we prove our picture is a “photo-peinture” we are going to ruin Van Beers' reputation, one of great artists, almost a hundred years after his death. I had no time to talk to the owner. I'll do it today.”

  “Thank you, Igor. Gregory, I assume you need time to finish your experiments?”

  “You are right, will do my best to finish today.”

  “Now, for the Birth Certificate Authentication project. I think we need legal help.”

  “Sorry, Dina, what are our concerns based on?” Igor spoke up. “The request for authentication is legal. There could be a million reasons for the request. We don't have any problems at all. I suggest, before we jump to the legal aspect, let us submit a request for clarification. How is our authentication going to be used, by whom, where and when? If we get partial or unsatisfactory answers, then we will get legal help.”

  “Good suggestion, Igor. Please put something together and run it by me for final review. Tamara, please prepare all of the information – who will receive our request and where to send it. I would like to see the names, titles and addresses. You both will work together, so be a good team. Let’s take a ten-minute break, and at exactly ten-thirty, we will continue with our meeting.”

  As Gregory left the conference room, Dina spoke, “Gregory, please be ready, I could ask you many questions.”

  In return, Gregory mumbled, “No worries. “

  Ten minutes passed and all of them were back in the conference room.

  “As you know already,” Dina started. “I have been invited to the European Union of Police Association's conference. The conference will be in January in Amsterdam, and I was asked to give a presentation about the use of lead for smuggling and forgery.”

  “How exciting, you are going to reveal all our secrets. “ Igor smiled.

  “Exactly, and I need all of you, individually, to provide me with five examples from your real-life activities of smugglers and fraudsters.”

  “Only five?” asked Tamara.

  “Igor, that is not funny. Tamara, please remind everyone to have their list to me in exactly one month. If you are going to use somebody else's expertise or artifacts, please make sure you do your investigation thoroughly. I will combine some of my own material with yours. You can have exhibits too, on the condition that they will fit into Tamara’s suitcase.”

  “Are you taking her body as an exhibit for smuggling?”

  “I knew you'd say that, Igor, I knew it,” Tamara said.

  “Next topic, please. “ Gregory impatiently spoke his first words since the morning.

  “What about the King’s clothing?” continued Dina.

  “We are waiting for a reply from the Japanese,” replied Igor.

  “Now, about my personal case. As you know, after my arrival from Australia, I discovered this brown envelope in my apartment.” said Dina as she pointed to the envelope. “The envelope had been delivered by a mysterious man. Inside the envelope there was a photocopy of my older brother's diary. I was separated from my brother twenty years ago. The writings in the diary match many of my memories. In the last two days, I tried to restore the events of my past. I hope that I have found my brother. I am not sure, but I hope. Based on the statement written on the envelope, the mysterious man will come to visit me again. It may happen today or sometime during this week. Gregory did an analysis of the diary's handwriting and pages. So now I will give the floor to Gregory, please.”

  Everybody in the room could feel Dina’s nervousness.

  Gregory spoke: “From the handwriting comparison, I can conclude that it is written by the same person, with ninety-eigh
t percent accuracy. Why not a hundred percent? Because on the original page we do not have full sentences. We have short phrases. We are lucky that the phrases have most of the letters as our alphabet. Not having the original sentences prevents us from checking the use of words and expressions. My conclusion from the page analysis is that I can be no more than seventy percent sure that they are the same pages as the original. Since the copied pages have been enlarged, I do not have the ability to perform a chemical analysis to prove that the original and the rest of the diary are from the same source of paper. Sorry, Dina.”

  “Thank you, Gregory. Don’t be sorry. Sometimes we all need to face reality. Our Monday meeting is over. I will stay in the conference room for now. I will be evaluating our workload. Tamara, can you please confirm my dentist appointment and bring me a glass and bottle of water. Thank you.”

  The team left the room. Dina took her notepad and started to do the workload chart to see how much each of her team members was involved in each of their ongoing projects.

  King Dress – Tamara, ten percent. Jan Van Beers – Igor, fifty percent; Gregory fifty percent. Birth Certificates – Igor, fifty percent; Tamara, ten percent. Conference – Igor, twenty-five percent; Tamara – thirty-percent; Gregory – twenty-five percent. Dina stopped; she felt her tension, worry and anxiety. She had difficulty relaxing. She looked around for her Ficus. But she forgot that she was not in her office.

  Yellow Raincoat

  Dina heard a phone ring in the reception area. Ten seconds later, Tamara marched into the conference room with a big smile on her face. “He is here!”

  “Who is here? And why are you so excited?”

  “I think it's your brother; he is asking for you.” Dina tried to concentrate. She really did not know what to do. Run to the reception area or sit and relax?

  “Who is asking for me? Can you please explain what he looks like?"

  Tamara was confused. Dina was sitting, with her pensive face and asking her questions, instead of running to meet her lost brother. “He looks good. He is handsome. I would marry him in a second. Now, go and meet him, before he changes his mind and leaves the office.”

  “How do I look? Do I look okay? How's my hair?”

  “You look like a million bucks. Go, already. I will bring the jug with water and two glasses to you.”

  Tamara left the conference room, and Dina followed her slowly. Dina felt as if she had run ten kilometers after covering only the fifteen-meter distance from the conference room to the reception area. The last five were the most difficult. Smiling, Tamara was already sitting behind her desk.

  A man dressed in a yellow, flap-shoulder trench raincoat was standing in front of Tamara’s desk, observing himself in the mirror on the wall. When he overheard her footsteps, he slowly turned in Dina’s direction. He was in his early thirties and about six feet tall. It was noticeable that he had not shaved this morning. He was bronzed. The bright yellow raincoat with red flowers did not match the man’s muscular body figure, tightly clothed in a dark blue shirt and a pair of light blue jeans. He wore dark brown high-heeled boots, which added a good two inches to his height. A two-meter distance between them, but Dina’s eyes already took in all the visible details. So those are the famous boots that my concierge wished for, ran through Dina’s head. The man stepped forward, causing Dina to stop. Suddenly, after noticing that the man was approaching her, Dina’s legs became spongy. She was on the verge of fainting. If her hand hadn’t been grabbed by the man’s right hand, just at that time, Dina would have collapsed to the ground.

  She stared directly into the stranger’s face and tried to find any similarity with her memories of Roman.

  “Are you okay?” the man asked in English, still holding Dina’s hand.

  “I am okay, thank you.”

  The man released Dina’s hand. “Are you sure?”

  “Yes. Hi, I'm Dina. You were looking for me.” Dina regained full control of her body, and straightened her back.

  “Yes, you are right, I was looking for you. You don't recognize me, do you?”

  “Not really. Sorry, no. “Dina looked directly into the man’s eyes. “No, I don't.” Dina became angry with herself. Yes, no, yes, no – what are you doing?

  “No, I do not recognize your face or your voice,” said Dina with noticeable notes of anger in her voice. “Sorry, and you are?”

  The man raised his head, looked Dina over, smiled and said, “I am your older brother, and as far as I can remember, you always called me Roman.”

  Dina noted some familiarity in the man’s behaviour – the way he moved his head, something in his sarcastic, “as far as I remember”. She smiled, a big and happy smile.

  “Bravo, bravo,” suddenly came from the reception desk, where Tamara was sitting and observing the scene. “She has been waiting for you for twenty years.” She stood up. “I am so happy for both of you. You cannot imagine how happy I am.”

  “I am happy, too,” said Roman. “I can recognize your smile now. I missed you, Dina.” And he embraced Dina, putting his strong arms around her shoulders, so strong that Dina was lifted into the air for a second or two. Tamara was clapping her hands and almost yelled, “You can’t imagine how happy I am for you!”

  When Dina was released from Roman’s hug, she straightened her dress, lifted Roman’s left raincoat flap with her two fingers, and asked, “What's with the yellow coat? I like the red roses, but I am not sure it matches your boots.”

  “Yes, you are right, I did not check the city’s weather forecast. I am staying with my friend. He is the one who owns this funny raincoat. In his free time, he performs as an entertainer at children’s birthday parties. I borrowed it from him. Nothing else was available.”

  The moment Roman finished his explanation, Igor showed up, driven from his office by the noises coming from the reception area, pretending he was on his way to the washroom, which was located outside of the office near the elevators.

  Tamara moved closer to Roman. “Igor, Igor!” She could not hold her excitement, clapping her hands and bouncing up and down. “It is Dina’s brother, Roman.”

  When did we join the Pride Parade? Igor wanted to reply, observing the light blue, yellow and red colours in front of him, but instead said, “Nice to meet you. I have heard a lot about you.”

  “Nice to meet you too,” replied Roman, while still looking in Dina’s direction. Igor could sense the tension in the air.

  “I hope to be invited to the family reunion dinner soon.” He smiled. “You should go to Dina’s office or the conference room. I'm sure you have things to discuss and want to catch up.”

  “I left my stuff in the conference room,” agreed Dina. “Please follow me, we'll go from there to my office; it's more comfortable there.”

  “After you,” replied Roman. They left the receptionist area and headed to the conference room.

  “Who asked you to come out?” demanded Tamara in an angry tone. “Why did you send them to the conference room? It was so perfect, so charming, until you came out.”

  “What are you talking about?” Igor asked. “Please stop cackling. You better let Gregory know that Roman is here.” And he left Tamara standing alone.

  Dina was organizing her stuff on the conference room table. Roman stood on the opposite side and said, “So, you are running this company by yourself?”

  “Looks like it,” replied Dina, putting all the papers in one big pile. “Roman, how did you find me?”

  “Actually it was easy. I looked for you and Dad a long time. The last seven years, I visited Derchany every year, usually in the summers when I had a vacation from my school, where I teach history.”

  “Nice, so you did become a teacher as you always dreamed?” interrupted Dina.

  “Oh, yes. I teach in three different schools. I teach eighth to tenth grades. So, as I mentioned, I was looking for you and Dad, but I was also looking for Alex. He was transferred to another region around five years after we escaped. But
I could not find where. I looked everywhere. Especially through tons of documents, the most valuable source being the Derchany Rail Road Archives. “

  Dina’s cheeks became red. She sat down. She could guess what was coming next.

  “There is a very nice local blonde girl. She used to work at Derchany Rail Road Archives for a long time. Her name is Marina,” Dina lowered her head and covered both her eyes with her palms. She could feel her face burning.

  “Six months ago I met Marina by chance. Now she is working in a local library, and she told me that three years ago some foreign woman was looking for the same information I was. And she was in Derchany for two or three days. I checked two existing hotels. And I needed to bribe the hotel’s manager to allow me to go through the hotel’s three-year-old registration forms. And in one of them I found the registration record of a woman by the name of Dina Greduer, with her passport number and address.”

  “Correct, I was there three years ago in May. Marina helped me a lot. But you are right, I too could not find any information. Why didn't you contact me immediately?”

  “First of all, I wasn't sure it was you. You changed your last name.”

  “Yes, you're right. And I did not change it back.”

  “What do you mean, change it back?”

  “Long story; I'll tell you everything later. Please, continue.”

  “So I assumed you are married. Are you?”

  “No, I am not.”

  “Then you are divorced.”

  “No, I am not.” Dina smiled, starting to enjoy their conversation.

  “I am confused.” Now, for the first time in years, Dina saw Roman smile.

  “Please continue, we will discuss these nuances later, please.”

  “Okay. I still wasn't sure you were the Dina I was looking for. The second reason was that I immediately applied for a visa to visit you, but the process was constantly delayed, week after week. And the most important reason was that I wanted to prove to you that I am who I say I am, and for this reason I needed to get my diary back.”

  “Sorry, back from where?”

  “From the archives at Corridor One.”

  The name Roman pronounced had an electrifying effect on Dina. If a second before she felt some unexplainable reservation toward Roman, now she was ready to come and hold him in her arms and kiss him a million times. She could barely stay seated.

  “It took me a good three months to have it released. And here we are now. Together. This is how I found you. You know all the rest.”

  “Thank you Marina, thank you,” said Dina, standing up, holding her pile of documents under her left arm, and directed Roman to her office.

  When they passed near the lab, the door opened and Gregory’s big curly head and half his body, dressed in a white medical robe, popped out.

  “Tamara told me everything. It's nice to meet you. Sorry, I need to go back. Looking forward to meeting you again.” And he disappeared behind the lab door.

  “Strange man,” Roman commented.

  “Yes, he is. Aren't we all?”

  Dina and Roman entered the office at the exact time when the sun shone through a small space between dark clouds. It looked like white silk threads were running down toward the earth.

  “Wow, what a view,” said Roman.

  “Too bad it is going to rain all day today. Please, sit down.”

  Dina remained standing and quickly shoved the papers she’d brought with her from the conference room into the left corner of the table. She decided to reschedule her dentist appointment and was ready to push Tamara’s intercom button when Roman took the frame with the original diary page, left on Dina’s table by Gregory. He lifted it and stared at it with obvious interest. Then, without any emotion, he put it down and said, “I can imagine how beautiful your office is on a sunny day.”

  Dina remained standing, stunned by the fact that Roman did not recognize the diary page with his own writing. She took her fingers off the intercom.

  “Yes, when the sun is shining, it is cozy and warm here.”

  She lifted the frame, walked to the wall, and asked Roman, “Could you please help me mount it?”

  “With pleasure,” replied Roman, taking the frame from Dina’s hands, lifting and putting it on a hook on the wall. All this time, Dina was looking for Roman’s facial expressions, or any emotions. None came. Obviously, he did not know what he was holding in his hand at that very moment.

  “Are you collecting memorabilia?” he asked.

  “No, it's a simple present from a friend.”

  Dina quickly moved to her desk, doing all she could to prevent her from screaming out “It was you who gave me the page! It was you who wrote the strange names! It's your diary!”

  Her brain worked quickly, as it always did under stress. She became increasingly suspicious.

  “I have a dentist appointment at one o’ clock. Unfortunately, I can’t cancel it or reschedule. These braces require monthly adjustments. Without them, my teeth would go back to the way they were before. And you would not want to see my teeth then.” Dina smiled. “I almost forgot, every time I'm at the dentist, he takes a picture of my braces. We compare them from time to time. I have a couple here. Can you hold this one by the corners please? I really want to look at it before my appointment.”

  It looked like Dina’s dentist story and her unusual request of holding the photo of her teeth surprised Roman. But he still replied, “Why not?” He took the picture carefully, using two hands, and held it at the top corners with his thumbs and index fingers. As Dina anticipated, all three other fingers on both hands unintentionally came forward, exposing the inside of his right middle finger. Dina could now see the blue tattoo with the letter R. She felt blood rushing to her head, her ears became red, and her knees started shaking slightly. The letter R tattoo was not written backwards.

  You do not know our secret. You are not Roman. She tried to relax and regain control over her body. How good that I have my Ficus. Dina turned her head in the Ficus' direction and pierced the green plant with her eyes. It did the job.

  “Great, thank you. Unfortunately, I need to go. I am working from home tomorrow. Can you please come around ten in the morning? We have so much to discuss. I will prepare lunch. Could you?”

  “No problem, especially now that I know where you live.” He put the photo on the desk. “You didn't ask me any questions about our dad?”

  “I know Roman, I know. I am so confused right now and need to relax. You did surprise me; I was not ready. Do you have any information about him?”

  “I know he returned looking for us. I know he made contact with Alex. This is why I was looking for him too. But otherwise I have no clue where he is now.”

  Should I expose you now or should I wait until tomorrow? I'll wait, Dina thought.

  “Do you know what? It is a great day today. And tomorrow we will be together at my apartment the entire day.”

  Dina pushed Tamara’s intercom button.

  “Can you please call for a taxi? I am late for my dentist appointment.”

  “Tax–”

  Dina lifted her finger, cutting Tamara off. She knew that her request took Tamara by surprise. Dina normally walked to her dentist, and walking through an underground passage usually took no more than five minutes. She knew Tamara would do what she asked.

  Dina took an umbrella and her briefcase, and left her office. Roman followed. They passed the reception area without any incidents, questions or drama, simply because Tamara was not there. You are hiding in the conference room, thought Dina, and smiled. A quick ride in the elevator and they were in the lobby. It took around five minutes for the taxi to arrive. Dina and Roman were quiet the entire time.

  “That’s my taxi. I need to go. Do you need a ride?”

  “No, thank you. I will subway.” Why, am I not surprised? Dina put her fake smile on again.

  “I do not know what to say. I am so happy you found me. I can hardly wait for tom
orrow.”

  “Me too. “Roman put his arms around Dina. “I hope we never get separated again.”

  “Me too.”

  Dina wanted to push him away and slap his face with her briefcase. Released, she mumbled, “See you,” turned around, and walked through the revolving doors directly into the waiting taxi. Dina asked the driver to drive forward and she stared out of the taxi’s rear window. She saw the yellow raincoat disappearing into the underground subway entrance. Her plan did not work. Roman had rejected the ride and she could not follow him. To the driver's surprise, she asked to stop, gave him twenty dollars, opened the door, and jumped out without noticing that the taxi had stopped in the middle of a puddle created by the morning rain. What a day!

  At the dentist's office, she asked permission to use the phone.

  “Tamara, please listen carefully. There is a photo, six by nine, on my desk. Please do not touch it with your fingers. Ask Gregory to take fingerprints from it, especially from top left and right corners, from both sides of the photo. Call Lieutenant Carol and ask him for help in running the fingerprints through the national database. Ask him what we need to do to also run it internationally. He may point you to the right forms we need to submit. Do not wait for my approval; submit them if required. I know you can fake my signature. In this case, do it.”

  “You know, I never faked your signature.”

  “Yes, I know, but I also know you've been practicing faking it, so use your skill now.”

  “I will kill Homes, you'll see, I'll kill him.”

  “Good, before you kill him, please forward me to him now. If he is on another call, please disconnect him. I need to talk to him now.”

  “Why did you take a taxi to get to the dentist?”

  “Tamara, I need to talk to Homes.” Dina used her commanding voice, and five seconds later, Igor was on the line.

  “I was with the Van Beers owner from Canada, and Tamara disconnected me.”

  “I asked her to disconnect you. This is urgent.”

  “What is going on?”

  “I need the following from you.” Dina knew how to phrase her request so it would get Igor’s attention. “A: I need two surveillance cameras, hidden in family picture frames, similar to the ones you showed me last time. They need to be wireless. I assume they come with recording microphones, B: I need three handheld VHF radios, each with a set of headphones. Make sure they are scrambled, so not every taxi car radio tower can listen to it. C: I need a clearance for reviewing building security videos for our office building and for my condo building. Work your charm to get it. Use Tamara to do paperwork. D: ask everyone, including Gregory, to be in my apartment today at 4:00pm, is that clear?”

  “Yes Dina, can I be dismissed?”

  “Yes, see you at four.” Dina hung up, thanked the receptionist, and sat down, waiting for her turn.

  On the other side of the city, a man wearing a yellow raincoat stepped off the subway escalator and exited the station into the pouring rain. He walked fast on the east side of the street, maneuvering between pedestrians with umbrellas and puddles of water. Ten minutes later, he entered a convenience store, purchased a calling card and asked for directions to the nearest pay phone. He entered the phone booth located around the corner, inserted the calling card, and dialed a number.

  “Hi, how are you?” a man's voice answered.

  “I am okay. We had no time to have a good conversation. She invited me for lunch tomorrow at her apartment. I think we are okay, as planned. Will call you in the evening; we'll discuss in advance what to do. “

  “Good. Make sure you are not followed.”

  “I am not. You worry too much. Will call you soon.” He hung up and left the booth.

  Dina was home at around 3 p.m. She cleaned her dinner table, arranged the chairs and took a presentation easel from the storage room. She always had one or two self-stick white pads. She attached a pad to the easel, took coloured markers and sat down, waiting for her team. This was turning into an extremely difficult emotional day.

  If I could quantify my feelings, I would have ten percent sadness and ninety percent excitement. Interesting. After all, I am not so sad. Interesting; why am I so excited? Revenge? Not really. I am probably interested in finding the truth. Why would somebody pretend to be my brother? Why go to this extent of preparation, acting, camouflaging? Why?

  She took a marker and wrote “Facts” on the top of the first page, then added the following under:

  1. Diary is real (at least until Derchany)

  2. Marina at Derchany Rail Road Archives

  3. My visit to Derchany

  4. My address in hotel registration

  She took the first page, separated it from the pad, and stuck it on the wall.

  At ten to four, the phone rang. The concierge informed her about a visitor named Gregory waiting in the lobby. She asked the concierge to allow Gregory access and add two other names to the visitors’ list, apologizing that she forgot to do it before. Gregory appeared at the door, soaked from head to toe.

  “Why didn't you take an umbrella?”

  “I had no time,” he said, marching to the dining room, leaving traces of water behind him.

  “Hey, Gregory, take your shoes off immediately! Where are Tamara and Igor, why did you come alone?”

  Gregory stopped and started to remove his shoes.

  “Not here! Go there!” Dina pointed to the door. Gregory obeyed.

  “Tamara told me you need help with ordering a pizza,” he said jokingly. “I had no lunch today. So, I decided to walk. I had no time for an umbrella, sorry.”

  “Pizza? What Pizza? Ah! Correct, I am going to order pizza. Tamara is right. Please sit, I will be with you in a second.”

  Ordering pizza for the company meetings that took place in Dina’s condo was her role. A call to the concierge and the pizza would be here in twenty minutes. Poor Gregory, Tamara did send him here before the meeting to remind me about pizza. He did not have lunch, he's hungry and I have an empty refrigerator.

  “Sorry, Gregory, your lunch will be here in twenty minutes.”

  “No worries. Tamara and Igor are working on some papers. They will be here soon. We have time to discuss Jan Van Beers.” And before Dina could stop him, he continued. “I did an X-ray and found what could be many traces of charcoal. But they also could be sketches for another painting on the same canvas. So, my findings are not conclusive. I hope it helps. I also had a small accident with the picture.” He stopped.

  “What are you talking about? What kind of an accident?”

  “Don’t worry, I fixed it already.”

  “Gregory, I am having one of the most difficult days of my life today, so please tell me you did not destroy the picture.”

  “The picture is one hundred percent okay now.”

  “Good, we'll continue our conversation tomorrow. I hope I do not need to fire you.”

  “No, just the opposite; you are going to give me a well-deserved, long-awaited raise.” Gregory smiled.

  Dina nodded her head. The door opened and Tamara stepped in.

  “I left the umbrella in the hallway, is that okay?”

  Igor followed, pulling a small suitcase behind him. The entire team was together.

  “Gregory, is the pizza man here? Good, then I am sure we are going to have our lunch on time.”

  “Yes, you will. Join us please. Igor, do we have everything I asked for?”

  “Yes, we do. Do you want me to install the cameras now or after our meeting?”

  “After, please. We can start now.”

  The team was seated; everybody knew their place around the table. Dina started.

  “You know the story about my brother's diary. Did you know that today my brother came to our office?” Dina described her meeting with the man claiming to be Roman in great detail. Tamara, as usual, documented Dina’s every word, only this time she had her mouth open. Igor was listening, frequently moving his eyes from Dina to Ta
mara. Silence in the room followed Dina’s last sentence.

  “So this is why you wanted the fingerprints from the photo?”

  “Yes, Gregory. We may find out who this man is. Igor, what are your thoughts? What do you think should be our next actions?”

  Igor approached the easel, took a blue marker, and drew a horizontal line, splitting the white page in half.

  “We can go to the police. We have no reason to ask them to arrest this man. We do not know where he is now. He is coming to meet Dina tomorrow at ten. We need to decide what is the goal of meeting him? What are we going to do after? With your permission, I would like to do a small piece of analysis.”

  “Please, Igor, go ahead. “

  Somebody knocked on the door.

  “It's probably the pizza.” Dina opened the door and passed two big boxes of pizza to Gregory, who’d followed her.

  “We can eat now and continue our discussion after,” said Dina.

  “Have your pizza. I will continue with my analysis, while you eat. I am not so hungry.” said Igor.

  “Are you sure?”

  “No worries, just please keep Tamara away from my pizza slices. So, we know that the man who came to our office and presented himself as Dina’s brother Roman is lying. We also know the facts that Dina has written there.” He pointed in the direction of the page on the wall. “I would like to make two conflicting assumptions; one – the man, let’s call him X, does not suspect that we know that he is pretending to be Roman.” Igor wrote “X – un suspecting” on the top half of the paper. “Two – X knows that we know that he is not Roman.” And he wrote “X – suspecting” below the first statement. “Now we need to decide how to act when he comes to meet Dina. She could tell him that she knows that he is not Roman or she can continue pretending she does not know.”

  Igor was now writing on the bottom part of the page: reveal we know, not reveal we know, one line under another. “At the end we have four options for the action, ‘X – un suspecting’, and we will reveal to him that we know that he is not Roman. There is a big chance he will stop his rouse. And even though he can justify the fact that he did not recognize the framed page out of the diary with his loss of memory, the tattoo can’t be justified, and this proves that he is an impostor. If ‘X - un suspecting’, and we don’t reveal that we know, the game will continue. If ‘X – suspecting’, and we will reveal that we know, in my opinion, he will stop the game. If ‘X – suspecting’ but we will not reveal that we know, the chances are that he will continue the game.” This entire time, Igor was drawing lines between two parts on the page, connecting options. “Dina, it's your choice now. Do you want the game to continue or do you want it to stop? Keep in mind that we have no way of stopping him or holding him in your apartment.”

  Gregory was finishing his third slice of pizza. Tamara and Dina were listening and not eating.

  “You can have your pizza now, I have finished my analysis. Dina, what are you going to do?”

  “Wait a second please, can you please move to the left; I need to copy your chart,” said Tamara.

  “I think we need to continue. We have no idea who is behind this mystery man. What is the reason and the purpose of this game? Why play with my emotions? Why now? Tamara, what are your observations?”

  Tamara's sharp observation usually added a little bit of ‘spice’ to company investigations. She stopped writing, tilted her head to the right, looked at Igor and said, “You know, he is in his thirties, well-mannered. No rings on his fingers. He is naturally tanned. Jeans and shirt are not from a thrift store. Boots and yellow raincoat are out of character, and there for a purpose. The boots add four inches to his height; the purpose of the raincoat is not clear. My first impression was that he knew Dina before, from a photo or a detailed description. He was not surprised, impressed or excited to meet you, I would say that he was even cold for a person meeting his sister for the first time in twenty years. Also, when I was in the conference room, observing you leaving the office, I saw him looking at your buttocks; it was not so brotherly…” Tamara smiled and added, “Maybe he simply wants to date you.”

  “Yes, you are right. The pizza is cold. I am going to warm mine in the microwave. Who wants a warm piece?” asked Dina.

  “No, thank you, I am okay.”

  “I’m fine too, thanks, “ added Igor.

  “As you wish. “Dina took two pieces and left for the kitchen. She was back in a minute. “Gregory, what are you thinking?”

  “I am okay, I had three pieces already.”

  “I meant, can you add something to what Igor and Tamara have already said?”

  “Oh, yes. I can add that Igor's analysis is right. I support your plan of action to continue with the investigation. Igor missed one condition. What if this man already left the game? What will be your plan of action if he disappears and doesn't come to your condo tomorrow?”

  “I think that then we will do our best to identify the man and pursue him, if possible.”

  “Good, I have nothing more to add. Could I have what is left of the pizza? I am going back to the office.”

  “Yes, you can. Igor and I will stay here. Tamara, please finish all of the paperwork. Tomorrow, I will be working from home. The moment you have the reply from the Japanese about the King’s clothing, please let me know. Gregory, please send me the picture of your damage to the Jan Van Beers. If we are not getting answers about the Birth Certificates, I am going to get out of the contract. Tamara, please prepare the original contract for my review. Tomorrow morning Igor will bring one handheld VHF radio to the office. One of you will be listening to it at all times from nine-thirty. I may need your help. Any questions?”

  “What do we do when we get the results from the fingerprints on the photo?”

  “Tomorrow will be a busy day Gregory, I'll try to review all the reports in the afternoon, especially if we get more fingerprints. If there are no more questions, I appreciate all your help and effort. Looks like we are going to spend time and resources dealing with a non-profit project. But it is in my personal interest to get to the bottom of it, and I hope you will continue to support me. I really don’t have anybody else to get support and help from.”

  “Yes, you are right; I forgot to tell you that all of us are requesting a vacation starting tomorrow, right goons?” giggled Tamara, taking Gregory’s hand and pulling him in the direction of the condo door.

  “Isn't she adorable?” Dina asked Igor once they were alone.

  “Yes, she is, sometimes. Let's get to work. Where do you want the frame-cameras positioned?”

  “I think we need one in the dining room and one in the kitchen. By the way, how are the two cameras going to work simultaneously?”

  “They are motion, voice and volume activated. Only one will work at any particular time. We can position them in any way we like. Do not worry; you are dealing with a professional.” Igor started to unpack his suitcase. In a few moments, Dina’s dining room looked like a radio enthusiast's workshop. Tools, tools, and more tools and gadgets were everywhere.

  “Do you really need all this to install two cameras?”

  “To install, maybe not, but to run tests and check that they are recording, yes. Please, can I have a glass of water? I will need your help to conduct some of the tests.”

  Dina understood that she needed to leave him alone for now.

  Dina was reviewing the Van Beers pictures she received from Gregory when Igor interrupted, “Where is the best place to hide the receiver? I need a place with a power outlet with easy access, preferably without radio, TV and other appliances close by.”

  “My bedroom, but I have a radio-clock there, and a TV.”

  “Not good.”

  “The only place I can think of is the elevator switch box. It is in the storage room. The storage room does not have any power outlets, and I usually use the one in the switch box.”

  “Good enough, can you please show me where?”

  Din
a walked into the storage room, turned on the lights and pointed a finger at the metal door in the middle of the wall. “There.”

  “Thank you. I can manage from here.” Igor let Dina leave. He opened the metal door, looking for the best way to position the receiver inside the box.

  Dina turned on the coffee machine and went back to reviewing the pictures. Igor went in and out of the storage room several times. Dina heard scratching coming from the ceiling directly above her. She peered up to the ceiling, but could not detect where the noise was coming from. Igor came out a while later and sat down near Dina, holding a brown plastic object in his hand.

  “Do you know what I’m holding?” he asked

  Dina looked at an object that resembled a brick, a nine-by-six rectangle, one and a half inches in height. “I have no idea. “

  “It is a SHOMEA-1 voice recorder, one of the best, used by a dozen armies in the world, made in Israel. It has double cassette capacity, with a recording time of up to six months. This model is four years old and does not have wireless capacity. But what is a SHOMEA-1 doing in your elevator switch box? And why is it turned on? Do you record everything going on in your apartment?”

  “I have no idea what are you talking about. Why should I record what is going on in my apartment?”

  “I have no idea why. But when I found it, it was turned on and recording everything using a microphone installed somewhere there in one of the pot-lights.”

  “God, what is going on today? I don’t need any more surprises! Why would, what did you call it, a SHOMEA-1 be installed in my unit?”

  “For one reason, industrial espionage. But then why is it here and not in our office? The other reason could be to spy on you.”

  Dina pushed her chair from the table, stretched her legs forward and closed her eyes.

  “I also found an elevator maintenance schedule attached to the inside of the switch box door. What is unusual is that you have maintenance scheduled every six months, where you usually need it only once a year. The evidence that the SHOMEA-1 was installed in the switch box and that it’s recording lasts for about six months. This points to the two being linked.”

  “Are you saying that when the technicians come to do the elevator maintenance, they change the tapes, replacing the old one with the new?”

  “Looks like it. The current tape is at its end. Your maintenance was scheduled exactly one week ago. You were in Australia. They could not access your unit when you were absent. This is why your elevator is not working. I bet you there is nothing wrong with it. Somebody simply needed a reason to come back again and replace the tape.”

  “One second Holmes, six months ago I was at a conference for three days. Please take a look: when was the previous maintenance scheduled?”

  Igor left the kitchen, came back with a small piece of paper in his hand and handed it to Dina.

  “The dates of all four previous maintenance appointments are there.”

  “Great, exactly six months ago the elevator was broken. They fixed it after I came back from the conference.”

  Dina paused for a second, looking through the window at the sky.

  “So if they need to get the tapes out and replace them, they will come soon. We can then discover who they are and what they are after.”

  “Yes, we could, on the condition that they are not middlemen, who have knowledge about the purpose of this spying.”

  “What are you going to do with the recorder?”

  “I will try to rewind the tape back before our meeting. I will mark the tapes, so we know they have been switched, and I will connect SHOMEA back. Now you need to be careful not to spill the beans of your secrets when you're asleep.” Both Igor and Dina smiled at their scheme.

  Dina was tired. Too many emotions for one day, too many events and too much mystery.

  She decided to put off her grocery shopping. Instead, she wanted to go to the gym and practice the Kerzhak Navigation. When Igor left the unit, she took a two-hour break, lying on her bed, trying to relax and not think. Then a quick shower, one hour in the gym, and by nine, she was exhausted and fell asleep.

  Waking up at six the next morning was not a problem for Dina. The grocery shop was two blocks away. She purchased all that she needed for the anticipated lunch with Yellow Raincoat, the codename the team had decided to call Roman’s imposter.

  “Hello, hello. It is Fat Bottomed Girl. Fat Bottomed Girl, over. Can you hear me?”

  It was 9:30 and Tamara was playing with the handset VHF radio volume.

  “It is Number Two, please follow the protocol. Number One, are you there?”

  “Yes, I am,” replied Dina to Igor's question.

  “Number One and Number Two, please keep silent for now.”

  The VHF went silent. Dina started cutting vegetables for the salad, Tamara was sorting through mail delivered in the morning, and Gregory was busy writing the final Van Beers report.

  In a packed coffee shop across from Dina’s condo, Igor was lucky enough to find a chair near the window. He could observe the revolving entry door of Dina’s building, and the security desk behind it.

  It was raining. Most people carried umbrellas and walked quickly to escape the downpour. Igor looked at the entry to the subway station, then at the condo entry and back at the subway station again. During his more than twenty years of detective work, he had been through many surveillance missions. He had learned how to observe things that most people would discard as irrelevant, and then to combine them into one big picture. Right now he had no idea where and from what direction Yellow Raincoat might appear. Nevertheless, he had already calculated the time and the distance that would be required for him to follow and remain undetectable.

  Dina was reading a goulash recipe. She planned to start her cooking at ten minutes to ten. This way, the meeting with Yellow Raincoat would be more casual and would have a homey and family-like feel. She would be more relaxed and would act naturally, hiding all of her feelings and emotions.

  “Number One, Number Three, Yellow Raincoat has arrived.” Igor could see him stepping out from a city bus. Why did you take a bus and not the subway this time? While Yellow Raincoat walked into the lobby, Igor was carefully observing the entrance to the subway. He was looking for any suspicious followers. Nobody else went into the lobby or stopped in front of the building.

  Yellow Raincoat was standing near the concierge desk. Igor could see him chatting with the security guard. Or was this the concierge? All the movement was making it hard for Igor to decipher. Many condo buildings had the same uniforms for both, even though they usually provided different services and required different skills. I think you are the security guard. You are not so friendly and I can see you are asking him to sign some forms before allowing him in. You are definitely a security guard. Talking to himself was Igor’s usual habit. Okay, you can go upstairs now, so I can cross the road and wait for you in the lobby.

  Yellow Raincoat stopped writing, put the pen down, but rather than going to the public elevators, turned around and started walking toward the revolving doors. What are you doing?

  “Number One, Number Three, Yellow Raincoat is leaving.”

  “Number Two, what do you mean by leaving?!” Dina was shocked.

  “Number One, he is leaving the building. I will follow. In five minutes, check with the security desk and see what happened. He may return. Maybe he went out for flowers.” The VHF radio went silent.

  Yellow Raincoat was now on the street, heading south. Igor allowed him a thirty-meter distance and then left the coffee shop. Igor followed Yellow Raincoat walking on the opposite side of the street. The rain continued, and the number of pedestrians doubled. Is nobody working today? Following Yellow Raincoat was not a problem. He stood out from the rest of the crowd. Please do not use the bus or subway. Igor knew he would need to shorten the distance between them if that happened. It would need to be done quickly and without any delays. Crossing the road quickly in this traffic could be
a problem. Yellow Raincoat behaved as if he had been listening to Igor’s thoughts and continued to stay on the street. He passed another subway and bus station.

  “Number One, we are continuing south. We are already two blocks away from your building. You can go to the concierge desk now, over.”

  “Number Two, I am on my way.”

  Dina turned off the stove, locked the door and went downstairs.

  “Good morning, Miss Greduer, how are you? I was going to call your office, but it looks like you are working from home today.”

  “You are right. How are you doing? Why did you want to call my office?”

  “About ten minutes ago, you had a visitor. He left a small package for you, and directed me not to leave it in your unit or in your mail box. He asked me to deliver it to you ‘hand to hand’. Those were his words. Nice gentleman. Could you please sign here and I will bring the package?”

  Dina signed on the line with her name and unit number. The concierge came back, with what looked like a small, two-by-two inch cube wrapped in pink paper, with a small enveloped attached to it.

  “Thank you.” Dina took the package, carefully holding it in her left hand. She walked to the elevators, stopped and pushed the talk button on her VHF radio.

  “Number Two, he left a package for me. It looks like a small cube. There’s a letter attached. What should I do?”

  “Number One, please take it carefully to your unit. Do not open it. Number Three, send the scientist to Number One’s unit. Explain the nature of the package. Ask him to try and identify what is inside the package without opening it.”

  “Number Two, we are on our way to the unit.”

  “Number Three, this is Number One. Please stay where you are. Only the scientist should come up.”

  “Yahhhhhhhh.” It was obvious this sound came from Number Three. Igor smiled, imagining Tamara’s face. He continued to follow Yellow Raincoat. They were coming close to one of the entrances of one of the biggest central subway stations. Igor decided to close the gap. They were twenty minute from Dina’s condo. As they approached the station, he could see that it had become crowded, with lots of people going in and out. A perfect place for you to disappear. So, as not to lose eye contact, he decided to cross the road. The traffic was light and it was the perfect moment.

  Suddenly, he froze. Yellow Raincoat slowed down, looked around for something, then walked directly into a sports shoe store located across from the subway entrance. Igor tried not to lose contact with the yellow dot behind the store’s glass door. The strong wind brought more rain. More people tried to find shelter in the subway station. Igor waited, his eyes glued to one point. A crowd with umbrellas moved in and out of the station, making his task challenging. He needed to make an important decision: cross the road or wait for Yellow Raincoat to come out. Igor was familiar with this street and he knew that the line of stores had second entrances in the back, but most of them locked their doors, or blocked them with store merchandise. Here, break-ins happened frequently. I will take my chance and wait a few minutes.

  “Number Two, the scientist is here. He wants to talk to you.”

  “Okay, Number One, go ahead.”

  “Hi. I took a look, and I think I can disconnect the envelope from the package without any risk. Should I open the package?”

  “Not before you are sure it won’t separate your fingers from your hand.”

  “How can I be sure?”

  “What’s in the envelope?”

  “One second.” Silence followed for a minute, and then a happy voice.” It is a note. It says, ‘Dina this is for you.’ Then, on another line, a capital R.”

  “Number One, I may be paranoid, but to me it sounds like, ‘Open me please.’ Is your X-ray operational?”

  “Yes, it is.”

  “Number One, this is going to sound funny, but please follow my instructions. Take a small-sized pot from your kitchen and put the package inside. Then put the small pot in a bigger one and cover the big one with a lid. Take a taxi to the office, keep the pot on the floor. Make sure that, when you’re inside the taxi, your hands, head and the rest of your body are not in the way of the lid, in case it bursts. I need to go. Contact me from the office. Good luck.”

  All that time, while talking, Igor walked two meters, back and forth. He lost eye contact with the yellow dot. Rain, umbrellas, cars, and more rain, umbrellas, cars. He started to cross the road. If he is in the store buying shoes or hiding from the rain, I will see him. If he decides to leave the store, I have enough time to maneuver and pretend I am going to the station. Crossing the road was not a challenge. Because of the rain, the cars moved slowly.

  He approached the door of a neighbouring store, pretending he was interested in the items in the store window. To move fast, I will need to close my umbrella. Moving slowly toward the doors of the sports shoe store, he could observe the inside. The cashier counter was located to the left of the door. Shelves were everywhere. Yellow Raincoat could be behind any of them. Igor had no choice; he needed to go inside or move to another window and observe from there. For now, he preferred not to go in. But his instincts were telling him, “Something is wrong. Very wrong.” I have no choice. If I bump into Yellow Raincoat, we will have a nice and friendly conversation. He held his position for another minute and then opened the door to the store. Two young clerks were having a conversation behind the counter. Otherwise, the store looked empty.

  “Sorry ladies, I was looking for an old friend wearing a yellow raincoat. Did you happen to see him, by any chance?”

  “Oh, you’re so quick,” said one of the girls. Listening to what she said had a surprising effect on Igor.

  “I, I, of-of-course I, I q-q-q-ui-i-ck,” he stuttered.

  “Here, your friend left something for you to pick up. If you could come with me, please.”

  Igor was stunned, but he followed her. They went to the back of the store, where on one of the store chairs, a nicely-folded yellow raincoat was lying. Brown boots rested nearby.

  “Oh, yes. My friend’s yellow raincoat. He left it for me to pick up. I knew that. I am an idiot, you know? I am a big idiot. How long was he here for?”

  “He picked up the running shoes he purchased yesterday and left right after.”

  “Did he pay you in cash?”

  “Yes, he did.”

  “Yesterday, you say? Yes, he needed running shoes. It is difficult to run in those heavy boots.”

  “I will bring you two plastic bags. Is it going to rain all day?”

  “Yes, I think, all day. Did he tell you to pass any messages on to me?”

  “No, he only mentioned that you would be coming soon to pick up his stuff and that you two are good friends.”

  “Yes we are, even though now I really want to kill him.”

  Igor placed the boots and raincoat inside the plastic bags, said goodbye, and left the store.

  “Number One, I am on my way to the office.”

  Back at the office, Tamara opened her recently received National Human Sociology magazine. She was looking for a particular article written by a former classmate with whom she had studied during her Master's. She found it, took a blue marker in her left hand and was ready to start reading when the office door opened and Igor, holding two plastic bags in his hands, walked in. Tamara looked at him over her reading glasses. He put the two bags on the coffee table, looked in Tamara’s direction, and raised his right index finger, pointing at her.

  “Please, do not ask any questions now. If somebody asks – I am in the washroom.” And he left the office.

  “If somebody asks, do not ask any questions, Prince Charming is in the washroom.” And she put her magazine on her desk and walked to the coffee table. Without any hesitation, she pulled out the bags’ contents.

  “Kabuk-ka-bull, kabuk-ka-bull-e, what the hell is going on?” Her eyes moved quickly left-right, left-right, from the boots to the raincoat and back again.

  “Oi, Oi, Oi, w
hat have you done?”

  Once more, the office door opened, interrupting the totally confused Tamara. This time Gregory, holding a big and shiny pot in his forward-stretched arms, entered the office slowly and gracefully. He passed the now stunned Tamara without looking in her direction and without saying a word. When, following Gregory, Dina came across Tamara, it seemed like her eyes wanted to pop out of their sockets.

  “Where did they come from?” Dina asked Tamara, referring to the boots and raincoat.

  “Igor, Igor. I think he killed him. Did you cook him? Did you eat him? What is going on with the pot?” asked Tamara.

  “Don’t be crazy. Where is Igor?”

  “His majesty is in the washroom. Can somebody please explain to poor Tamara what is going on?”

  “Bring this stuff to the conference room and stay there. Ask Igor, when he comes back, to stay there too. I will be there in a minute,” said Dina, pointing at the bags with Roman’s wet clothes.

  Dina left and Tamara took the boots and raincoat into the conference room. Noises of furniture moving came from the lab. Gregory was preparing his X-ray. In less than ten minutes, Igor joined Dina and Tamara in the conference room.

  “Good, we can start.”

  “Dina, where is Gregory? Do you want to start without him?”

  “Tamara, he is ok. He is X-raying the package. I will explain in a second. First, let Igor tell us what happened. Why do we have these items here?”

  Igor slowly started to explain, in great detail, all he had been through after Yellow Raincoat left the condo lobby.

  “So, he planned all of this ahead of time. Smart.” Dina drummed her fingers on the conference desk.

  “I told you he had that yellow raincoat for a reason. I did not get the purpose of the boots, but now it is clear. He needed to make himself shorter when he left the store, shorter and without a ‘marker’. This way you would have a smaller chance of identifying him in a crowd. And he played us for fools. Bravo.”

  “Tamara, what are you talking about? What is a ‘marker’? Dina stopped drumming.

  “Good, the study for my Master’s in human sociology finally pays off. Listen, if I attach a big red ribbon to this chair, and it will be there for a week, and after a week, I remove the ribbon from the chair and attach it to the desk for a week, and a week after that to the whiteboard – after a while you will be accustomed to the red ribbon, even though it’s here for no reason. The red ribbon becomes a ‘marker’. If I remove it from the conference room, the first thing you will do when you enter it next time, is ask me, Where is the ribbon? What has happened to it? Why has it disappeared? Yellow Raincoat has done the same thing with us. He put the yellow raincoat on as a ‘marker’, hoping that when we will follow him we would look for the ‘marker,’ and we did. By removing the marker he could walk near you, and there is a big chance that you’d miss him.”

  There are more uses of markers. Wolves use the same technique when hunting big animals like buffalos. They will, sometimes for a month, position one old and usually white-coloured wolf on hills near the animals’ grazing grounds. The big animals become very accustomed to seeing him there. Then, one day, the old fellow starts to move from one hill to another. The animals watch him carefully, knowing he will attack them if they aren’t careful. They concentrate on the ‘marker’. Then his friends come from the opposite direction and eat one of them. Maybe it is not the best example. The best one is us. Ha, ha, ha.”

  “Yes, you may be right. Anyway, he played a friendly joke by leaving his boots and coat.”

  “And I’m one hundred percent sure that he did it to send a message. Something important. We will need to put all of the pieces of the puzzle together and then we will understand. I am sure we will,” finished Tamara.

  “What do you think – how long will it take Gregory to finish the X-ray?” Dina looked at her watch, it was twenty past noon.

  “He is doing an X-ray on your goulash in a pot?”

  “Tamara, stop it please. He is doing an X-ray on the box left by our friend.” And Dina gave Tamara the small envelope.

  “Oi, great. We may have a bomb in our lab and you and Holmes decided to bring it to the office instead of calling the police? That is a very smart decision. So, we will know soon if the package is good or bad for us, right?”

  “Tamara, we cannot involve the police right now. It is too small of a box for a bomb. We are simply taking all the required precautions. Please relax,” replied Dina.

  Igor was looking at the boots and the raincoat.

  “He did plan everything ahead of time. He knew after meeting with you yesterday that he was not coming up to your condo. He knew we would follow him. He purchased the running shoes and left them to be picked up the next day. Excellent backup plan. I smell a professional. Gregory should finish soon. It should take no more than ten minutes to develop the X-ray. He will be here soon.”

  Everybody went silent. Only the sound of Dina’s fingers drumming nervously on the table could be heard – tam-ta-ram-ta-ram-tam-tam.

  Ten minutes passed before Gregory’s laboratory door produced a screeching sound. All three people seated in the conference room slowly rose from their chairs, directing their eyes to the conference room door. Gregory entered the conference room with both hands holding two pots, one inside the other, with the small box lying inside and a large X-ray film under his left arm. He stopped for a second, looked at Dana and put the pots on the table.

  “Nothing, absolutely nothing. The box is empty.”

  “Are you kidding us?” Tamara stepped forward, ready to pull the pots in her direction.

  “Stop,” intervened Igor.” Do not touch it. Show me the X-ray, please.”

  Gregory passed the X-ray film to Igor, who turned around to the windows, bringing it to eye-level.

  “Strange. It looks like two boxes inside one another; the first one is cardboard, the small one is made of wood or a light metal. No mechanical or electrical parts. Interesting. What is your opinion, Gregory?”

  “I reviewed six pictures from all possible angles. They all look the same. No springs, no switches, and I agree with you, it’s a simple box inside a box, with nothing inside.”

  “Tamara, do we have scissors?” Igor asked after he put the X-ray on the table.

  Tamara approached a small stand near the wall, opened the top drawer, took a pair of scissors out and came back to the table.

  “Dina, can I open it, with your permission?”

  “I think I need to open it myself. If there’s a surprise inside, it is mine. You can leave the room if you want.” She took the scissors from Tamara, lifted the box from the bottom of the small pot, and waited for her team’s decision.

  “No chance that you are opening the box while I am outside the room,” Tamara landed in a chair. Igor and Gregory sat down too.

  “Are you sure?”

  Silence followed Dina’s question.

  “As you wish. Please, let me at least go to the end of the table. I will be more comfortable there.” Dina moved to the end of the room. She leaned against the wall and un-wrapped the pink cover.

  “Why do I need the scissors?”

  “In case it is glued, or he used scotch tape.”

  “I see none.” The pink papers fell to the floor, and Dina opened the cardboard box. She stepped forward and put the scissors down on the table. It was visible: her hands were slightly shaking.

  “I am not afraid, I am simply nervous,” she said, looking at her team.

  “It’s a natural reaction, use your breathing techniques.” Igor tried to help Dina relax.

  “I am okay, I am okay.” Dina took out another smaller red box that looked like a regular jewellery box, the kind everybody gets in a jewellery store when purchasing rings or earrings. Now the cardboard box landed on the floor. For a moment, Dina hesitated about opening the red box.

  “You want me to do it?” asked Igor. “It is empty, but if you will allow me, please?” And
he stood up, ready to approach.

  “No, please Igor, sit down.” Everybody in the room felt the pressure. Gregory was looking down at the table. Tamara’s eyes were closed and her hands were squeezed into two fists, stretched straight and parallel on the table. Igor moved his chair forward close to the window, so he could have freedom of movement and could see better.

  “Dina, I would really prefer that I do it. You are nervous enough. Please allow me the pleasure. We know it is empty. But why give yourself a heart attack?”

  “Yes, you are right.” And when Dina finished her last words, she turned around, her face to the wall, and opened the red box. Nobody in the room had enough time to react to her sudden move.

  “Jesus!” screamed Dina, and her voice echoed in the room.”…Jesus.”

  Suddenly it looked like Tamara and Igor became mute. Gregory reacted first.

  “Dina, are you okay? What’s in there?”

  “Look.” Dina turned around and placed the opened jewellery box in the middle of the table.

  A large, pear-shaped diamond was shining from the red silk inside. Its size was impressive, close to three-quarters of an inch in length and half an inch wide. It was a majestic and impressive stone.

  Tamara’s mouth was open, her left hand on her forehead, the other over her heart. Igor looked as if he wanted to hide his bald head in the palms of his hands. Even Gregory revealed his surprise by jumping up to his feet, staring directly into the box.

  “That is why the X-ray could not show what was in the box,” he said.

  Dina’s brown eyes were wide open. She had a big and happy smile. This second, Dina felt and acted like she was under a hypnotic trance. A warm stream of air brushed against her shoulder. She remembered. Dad had lifted the green bag from his left hand and gently put it on the carpet. He had opened it slowly, removing the green string. Dina closed her eyes again, and the light from the burning wood struck the middle of the bag directly, illuminating her face. Her brain could not distinguish between her imagination and reality.

  “Please do not touch it.” She heard Gregory’s quiet voice from the distance, then, “Please do not touch it,” sounded like thunder over her head. Her whole body felt a strong electrical shock. Then she found herself face to face with Gregory, who bent himself over the table holding both of her hands, trying to prevent her from taking the stone from the red box.

  “Please do not touch it. I will bring special tweezers and then you can do as you wish.”

  “Okay, I’ll wait.”

  Gregory felt that Dina’s arms were losing their strength and he released her. Igor and Tamara were surprised by Dina’s act but remained quiet.

  “I am sorry.” Dina sat down. All three waited for Gregory to come back from his laboratory.

  Two minutes later, Gregory returned. He put a black velvet cloth and a special tool for gripping and holding diamond stones on the table. The tool looked like a round handle with a plunger on one side. If the plunger was pushed, then four jaws came out of the handle and opened on another side. The release of the plunger made the jaws contract back into the handle and the device would grip the diamond stone tightly.

  “Here, use the tweezers. Now you can take the stone out of the box. Who wants to do it?”

  “I will,” Dina said. She took the tweezers, pushed the plunger and took the stone out of the box. Now its real shape and size were revealed. Dina stretched her arm slightly up, held the tweezers close to the light coming from the room’s spotlights. Seen this way, the big, shiny object had an even greater effect on Dina’s team, already amazed and surprised by its beauty. She passed the tweezers to Igor, who examined the stone up close, turning it around several times.

  “Gregory, what do you think? How big is it?”

  “I assume around seventeen to twenty carats. I would need to do some detailed measurements.”

  Igor passed the diamond to Tamara. She held it close to her left middle finger. Then under her left eye, close to her cheek, then to her left wrist. She smiled and started talking, adding purposefully vulgar hand gestures. “It is too big for a ring, too big and boring for earrings, maybe good for a bracelet. I do not know, but it is not romantic. I think I would make it into a pendant. Dressed with an evening dress exposing your cleavage, wearing this diamond pendant, we will dance, at your wedding, next week. Gregory, what would be the price for this beauty?”

  “I need to check its size first. I do have the old ‘Rappaport Diamonds’ Price List’ but I think it is five or six years old. And it depends on the buyer too. But it is in the hundreds of thousands of dollars for sure.”

  Tamara squinted her eyes at the diamond and extended her hand with the tweezers to Gregory, who straightened the black velvet in front of him before taking it.

  Very carefully, Gregory opened the tweezers and placed the diamond on the velvet. All eyes were directed towards his actions.

  “If the stone is fake, can I have it?” asked Tamara.

  “Can you be serious for a second?” Igor’s voice had a note of anger.

  “Okay, I will, I will.”

  From the side-pocket of his white medical robe, Gregory produced a small folding magnifying glass and started to inspect the diamond. Using the tweezers, he turned it around.

  All this time, he was mumbling, “I know you, I know you. No way can you trick me. No way. I know you.”

  “Is he talking to the stone?” Tamara asked.

  Dina and Igor exchanged confused looks. Dina was now worried about Gregory’s strange behaviour. He continued rolling the diamond, turning it around, then rolling it again, while looking at it closely through his magnifying glass.

  “I know you. Yes, I do.”

  “Gregory, are you okay?” Dina decided to intervene.

  “I am okay. I am a hundred percent okay.” He stopped touching the stone. “I’m simply having a little déjà-vu.”

  He surprised everybody when he picked up the stone with his tweezers, put it back in the red box, closed it, and in a commanding voice, declared, “Enough for today. It is after four and getting late. I will work on the diamond this evening. I will report to you by ten tomorrow morning. I need to do a lot of work now.”

  Tamara immediately reacted.” He will be in South America by tomorrow morning, somebody please stop him.”

  Dina looked directly into Gregory’s eyes. “Should we activate the Security Policy?” she asked him.

  “Yes, we should,” answered Gregory.

  The Security Policy was a regular procedure at MirexGlobe, invoked when Dina’s clients left valuable items in the possession of the company. One of their trusted security companies was called to provide 24-hour security, including a guard. All phone calls were rerouted to one phone line. At the end of the working day, all valuable items and any objects of importance were placed in a safe located in Dina’s office.

  Dina looked around. It was impossible not to notice the immediate change she went through. Her posture changed, her shoulders went back, her head lifted, and her smile disappeared. She regained control of herself. Her voice did not leave any doubt as to who was the boss of MirexGlobe.

  “Everybody, please sit down. Gregory, you too. Please put the red box on the table. I promise you will have enough time to do your research. Good. Tamara, please take care of initiating the Security Policy. I would like to summarize the last couple of days and make sure we are all on the same page. Also, please keep in mind that we do have our other business. We have our regular activities. And we have our clients waiting for results. Tamara, I will need your summary to take home with me. Please make sure you only include the highlights and what is on the whiteboard.”

  She took a marker, approached the board and wrote, ‘Friday, diary.’

  “On Friday I returned from Australia and found a diary in my apartment. You know what happened from then until Monday.” She wrote, ‘Monday.’

  “On Monday, a man pretending to be my brother came to our office.” She wrote, ?
??Boots, yellow raincoat, sport shoes.’

  “These are the items he prepared ahead of time and used on Monday.”

  She wrote, ‘Tuesday, red box, letter, boots, yellow raincoat, diamond.’

  “He left the red box and letter in my condo lobby. He left the boots and raincoat in a store. He left the diamond in the red box. We are assuming the diary is the real one, and it is written by my real brother. The letter is friendly. Leaving the boots and raincoat looks like a joke, or at least a teaser. For now we will assume the diamond is real. We need to find the answers to two questions.” She took a red marker and wrote in big letters, ‘Why? Who?’

  Dina looked toward her team, sitting quietly.

  “Could I?” Igor raised his right hand.

  “Go ahead, please.” Dina passed two markers to Igor.

  “What I am going to say is strictly based on the facts and information we have now.” He drew a square. In the top left corner, he wrote, ‘Dina,’ in the next corner, ‘Roman,’ the next, ‘Dad,’ and ‘Yellow Raincoat’ in the last. In the middle of the square, in red, he drew the diamond.

  “I saw your face when you opened the red box. It was the face of a person surprised and scared. But that face was there for only a few seconds. Then you smiled, a big and happy smile, like you’d met your best friend after many years of being apart. For a few seconds, I had the feeling that you were dreaming or sleepwalking.” He drew the line from the corner of the square titled ‘Dina’ to the center with the diamond.

  “Yes Igor, you are right. It looks familiar. It felt like I had seen or held it before. But I have nothing more to say for now.”

  “Fair enough.” Igor continued.” Let’s assume, for now, that it is one from the same group of diamonds that your dad showed you. And it is one from the same group that Roman, your brother, hid in Derchany. In that case, I can draw another line.” He drew a line between the ‘Yellow raincoat’ corner and the diamond. “But there are two remaining connections.” He put two red question marks, one between ‘Dad’ and the diamond, and the other between ‘Roman’ and the diamond.

  “Two questions remain. One: how is Dina’s dad related to the diamond we have here? Second, how is Roman related to the same diamond? Answering these two questions will give us the answer to who and why. I would like to ask you all not to erase what is written on the whiteboard, at least until next Monday, please,” Igor concluded.

  “I think that’s enough for today,” Dina said. “I have not finished the goulash on my stove. We are all tired. I will be in my office for a while. Gregory, you can take the box. Igor, thank you, Tamara, thank you, Gregory, thank you too. I know you are going to work late today. Tomorrow morning we need to talk about the Van Beers painting. Everybody, thank you again. I have no idea what I am dragging you into with all of this, but I do hope it will end happily. Good night, everybody.”

  The team left the conference room, wishing each other a good night.

  Dina entered her office and started the clients’ paperwork she had left yesterday. Three hours later, when she was leaving, the office was quiet and looked empty. She stopped near the laboratory door.

  “Gregory, are you there?”

  “Yes, Dina, I am working.”

  “Earlier in the conference room I felt you wanted to tell me something. Do you?”

  “I am not sure, Dina, we will talk in the morning. I hope to have more information. Be well, see you tomorrow.”

  “Okay. Good night, Gregory. I will be at home if you need me. Bye.”

  Near the entry door facing Tamara’s desk sat a young security guard in his late twenties, armed and dressed in a black uniform.

  “Good evening.”

  “Good evening,” replied Dina.

  “Can I see your driver’s license please?” asked the guard, approaching the desk and taking a pen and some kind of form.

  “Why do I need to present you with my driver’s license?” asked Dina, surprised.

  “It is a request from your manager. I need to see and document it when you leave the office.”

  “Sorry, what manager?”

  “Here, you can see the list of the services we provide and what was requested by your manager. It is marked with an ‘x.’” And he passed a page with the bolded title ‘Security Services List’ to Dina.

  Dina browsed through the list of services, looking for one marked with an ‘x’.

  ‘Check ID and document name and time of the person exiting the office,’ ‘Check briefcase and hand-bags for entering/exiting personnel,’ ‘Body search for all entering/exiting personnel.’

  Dina could not believe her eyes. At the bottom of the list was the name of the requester and approver of the services. Name: Tamara Petluk. Title: CEO and VP of Security and signature.

  Oh, my God she’s done it again.

  “Where do you want my briefcase emptied?”

  “The coffee table will do.”

  She emptied her briefcase. Luckily, today, it had half of her usual belongings. It took the guard two minutes to go through Dina’s items and he then asked her to put everything back. The body search took more time. When Dina asked, “What are you looking for?” the guard answered, “For any hidden items you may attempt to take home.” Dina smiled; the guard was trying to do his job very thoroughly.

  When the last security checks were completed, Dina left the office.

  At around seven, Dina called Igor and asked for instructions on how to remove the two surveillance cameras and receiver. Igor explained the process, stepby-step, and she had no problem removing all of the surveillance equipment and putting it in one big plastic bag.

  She rested that evening, quietly and without any incidents.

  In another part of the city, at exactly seven o'clock, the light in the lobby of the Glass Beach Suites went on, illuminating beautiful red-wood European furniture, decorated with a big and colourful bouquet of flowers in a red Venetian vase resting in the middle of a tea table. The suite’s seven-story building had only fourteen fully furnished units, two per floor. It was privately owned and catered to special clients who preferred privacy, anonymity and seven-star level of service. Meals were served in the dining room inside the suites. Each suite had a butler, a registered nurse and a massage therapist assigned to it. The building had three Rolls Royce cars with personal drivers, available 24 hours. The average age of its clients was over seventy.

  Somebody rang the bell in the Mahogany Suite on the fifth floor. The man in the dining room was finishing his dinner. He liked his dinners served at six. It gave him more time to read before he went to bed at nine. He could not change this schedule, which he was forced to follow for many years, although he did not try too hard to do so.

  “Yes, come in, please.”

  “Sir, sorry for the interruption. There is a phone call waiting for you. Should I request the caller to try later?”

  “No, it won’t be necessary. I am actually expecting a phone call.”

  The server entered the unit, holding a small silver tray with a wireless phone on it. He left the phone on the dining table and left the room. Suite regulations were such that each guest, at the beginning of his or her visit, was assigned a brand new local phone number and allowed to change it three times during their stay. The man in the dining room frequently made use of this option.

  “Hello.”

  “Hi, it's me. I delivered the package.”

  “Any issues?”

  “Not really, everything went as planned. Do you want me to visit you?”

  “I am finishing my dinner. You are late.”

  “Okay. I will see you tomorrow.”

  “Good. Did you book the tickets?”

  “Yes, that is why I am late. There are many flight cancellations because of the weather. It is difficult to get out of the city. But I managed to get good seats.”

  “Great, our plan is working – for now. I will see you tomorrow. Good night.”

  “Good night, Dad.”

>   Twin Crowns

  The rain stopped. Yesterday, Dina had been so tired that she had forgotten to lower the bedroom shades. The sun filled the room with a bright and warm light. After waking up, she tried to open her eyes but the sun blinded her. She rolled to the side of the bed and sat up. Eight hours of sleep was not enough. The digital clock showed that it was ten past seven. I could sleep for one more hour. She was ready to lie back down when her house phone rang. She walked slowly to the phone in the kitchen. Her lower back was still bothering her. She answered the phone seconds before the answering machine kicked in.

  “Hello.”

  “Hi Dina, good morning,” Gregory replied.” Sorry if I woke you up. Do you have a minute?”

  “Good morning. You did not wake me up, but I am still in my pajamas. What is going on?”

  “Nothing serious, I simply wanted to let you know that I will be late to work today. I will try to be in the office at around ten.”

  “Is everything okay?”

  “Yes, don't worry. I worked late yesterday and had no time to meet with my friend. He may get me the Rappaport Diamonds Price List if I order it now, as it will take a week to process the membership and another week for delivery. I hope I can get it from him today.”

  “How was your research? Good news or bad?”

  “The diamond is not a fake, that's for sure. It is locked in a safe. I will need to talk to you when I am back in the office.” Dina could hear hesitation in Gregory’s voice.

  “Good, then I will wait for you in the office.”

  “Yes. Good. Sorry, just one more thing. Do you remember when I was working on that assignment in Geneva?”

  “Yes, I do. We had a project...” And she stopped suddenly, remembering that her conversations had been recorded by somebody using SHOMEA-1. For the Switzerland Federal Treasury Department, she repeated in her head.

  “Why?”

  “Can you please review the file on this project and the work we did there? I will explain it to you later.”

  “No problem.” Dina knew Gregory well. Nothing undertaken by the scientist was pointless. If he was asking her to review a six-year old contract, he was after something. “I will review it.”

  “Thank you. See you soon.” And he hung up the phone.

  I should call Tamara and ask her to prepare the Geneva file, but it's early. She will get it for me when I am in the office.

  Since she'd arrived from Australia, this was her first breakfast at home. She really enjoyed it, eating it on the balcony, watching the city slowly wake up as it was warmed by the shining sun. As a reminder of the two past days of non-stop rain, white lines of vapor trails were running through the sky. She wished she could stay outside longer.

  At a quarter to nine, Dina entered her office building’s lobby. Like a well-programmed robot, her brain switched to work mode: Do not forget to ask Tamara to get you the Geneva file.

  “Hello, hello.” Dina was greeted by Tamara, who was dressed in all black. A big black bow covered her neck. She had on black stockings, black shoes, even fingerless black gloves.

  “How did you feel after those strong young hands checked your boobs?” Tamara was referring to yesterday's body search.

  “I feel great, VP of Security. I am looking forward to reducing your paycheck this month and deducting from it the services you ordered.”

  “Oh, sure, you can do that. I negotiated the first three weeks of services free of charge,” Tamara smiled.

  The security guard stood near Tamara’s desk, listening to their conversation, ready to approach Dina and ask her for ID. Dina was ready. She'd taken her ID from her purse when she was in the elevator. Without waiting for an introduction or request, she handed it to the guard.

  “What is with the black dress? Are you going to a funeral?”

  Tamara approached Dina.

  “No. Thank God. No. I was thinking of asking you to show me the diamond,” she whispered. “It's interesting to see if it matches a classic black dress.”

  “Tamara, you are too much. Please take the Geneva contract file from the archives and bring it to me as soon as possible.” Dina smiled and walked past the guard to her office. Never a dull moment here at MirexGlobe, she thought.

  “It is already on your desk,” Tamara said, as Dina walked passed by the conference room.” Gregory called me at home this morning and woke me up.” Dina was already near her office. “Also, Igor wants to talk to you. Should I ask him to come see you?” Tamara shouted behind Dina.

  “Yes, please,” replied Dina, entering her office. She was not sure Tamara could hear her reply, so she pushed the intercom and repeated, “Yes, please, Igor may come and see me now.”

  “I got it, I got it. Thank you.”

  Dina checked her email. Nothing urgent; she could read everything later. A white three-ring binder marked 'Geneva' was in the middle of her desk in front of her. She opened it and started to read the first page, titled ‘Contract Information’.

  Line one: Client: Switzerland Federal Treasury. It was one of MirexGlobe's biggest clients. Since the day Dina opened her company, she'd been after the contracts from the Switzerland Federal Treasury. She participated in every public tender that was available from the Treasury. It took her two years to get MirexGlobe on the Preferred Vendors List. The Switzerland Federal Treasury usually had more than two hundred contracts each year. For the Treasury, it was an easy way to avoid painful audits and government regulations. All legal assets and liabilities became the responsibility of contracted service providers and third parties. Companies from the Vendors List were required to participate in a bidding process, competing on price, delivery timing, product quality, and many other conditions. Then, six years ago, the Switzerland Federal Treasury published a project on which only two companies worldwide bid. Nobody knows who the second company was or why MirexGlobe was chosen as the preferred service provider, but Dina always thought it was because of the cost element.

  Dina moved to Line two: Project / Contract Name: Twin Crowns Inventory, Appraisal, and Evaluation.

  The office door opened and Igor asked if he could come in. Dina closed the binder.

  “Tamara told me you wanted to see me.”

  “Yes, I do.” Igor took a seat, looked at the binder and continued. “Gregory told me he would ask you to review the Geneva contract. Interesting. Why?”

  “We will know soon enough. You did not come to discuss Geneva with me now, did you?”

  “No, of course not. I investigated your elevator maintenance provider. Yesterday evening, one of my good old buddies had a chance to review the company in detail.”

  Dina smiled.

  “You should be careful using your good, old buddy. I am not going to hire him to work for MirexGlobe when he is kicked out of the police force.”

  Igor also smiled.

  “No worries. He wouldn’t want to, he doesn’t work on the weekends, like us.” Igor smiled. “So the company is legitimate. It has existed for twenty-two years. No complaints, no connections to bad guys. All three employees have been employed for more than twelve or thirteen years. All are without any criminal pasts or records. Not even parking tickets. My conclusion? Somebody asked them to change the tape in your unit. Maybe even through a legal working agreement. I wouldn't be surprised if the company gave a receipt to the client. Of course, the name on the receipt, in this case, will be a fake one. So, my suggestion is to leave the company alone for now and to keep track of them. This way we can find out who is behind the recordings and track to whom the old tape has been passed. My concern is that, if we approach the company now, we may scare the client and then we will have little to no opportunity to find out who they are. You do have maintenance coming soon. Now that you are back, they will need to fix your elevator. We will know the date and time. I am pretty sure we can follow them.”

  During the last two sentences, Dina was staring at her phone. Igor could feel her growing tension and nervousness.

  “Sh
oot, I totally forgot. Maintenance is scheduled for today.” She pushed the speakerphone button and started dialing.

  “Hello, good morning. How can I help you?”

  “Hi, my name is Dina Greduer. My elevator maintenance was supposed to be scheduled for today.”

  “Hi, Miss Greduer, I have good news for you. I was ready to contact you, when you called. Your elevator is fixed and working. All of us and the maintenance company would like to apologize for the delay.”

  “What do you mean, fixed?” intervened Igor. “How come the maintenance technician entered Miss Greduer's unit without her being present?”

  “Sorry, I have no idea who am I talking to, but on my desk I have a form signed by Miss Greduer permitting them to enter her unit for elevator maintenance, signed and dated Monday.”

  Surprised, Igor looked at Dina. She was covering her eyes with her hands.

  “Thank you.” Igor pushed the red button

  “On Monday I had no idea that I had the voice recorder in my unit. I forgot I gave signed access to my unit. So many things happened in the last five days. I am losing my mind. Sorry. I am very sorry. All of the work you have done is now for nothing. We will never know who was recording me.” Her voice was broken. She was at the edge of crying.

  “Hey. Miss Greduer! Please keep your spirits up. Remember, you were telling me your dad used to say, ‘We are here to survive, and we will do what it takes to survive We are survivors’. I will think of something. The tapes are still here, in the city. It has only been one hour since they took it from your apartment. Let me go to my office. I have an idea. I need to think about something.”

  Dina slowly lifted her head, straightened up, looked directly into Igor’s eyes, rubbed her potato nose with her left hand, looked at the Ficus and smiled.

  “Of course, go. I know you will find a solution. I trust you, like always. Go.” She did not want Igor to see her weak or fragile.

  “Tamara, please make sure that after the meeting with Gregory I get the current status for all of the projects we are running. Please make sure we have the Japanese and Birth Certificate replies.”

  “Yes Dina, we received all of the needed information. I will be ready. Can you please forward the Van Beers pictures that Gregory gave you? I would like to attach them to the project file.”

  “Yes, of course.” Dina hung up, opened the Geneva binder and went back to reading the ‘Contract Information’ page.

  The Twin Crowns Inventory, Appraisal, and Evaluation project was part of a large Treasury Department initiative. Early on in the year, the government of Switzerland completed the construction of new vaults that were located in brand new buildings in Geneva’s Banking District. Equipped with state-of-the-art security systems and modern technology, the vaults were ready to hold the country’s most valuable treasures. Prior to this initiative, the Treasury Department had used old locations scattered around the city. Frequent requests for transfers of highly valuable items stored in the Treasury Department from one place to another were accompanied by a tremendous amount of bureaucracy and painful paper work in those days. Sometimes it took several weeks for an item to travel from one building to another, even though the buildings were next to each other. These items, belonging to the Swiss government, included paintings, jewelry, bars of gold and silver, rare books and historical documents, unique metals, and other valuable artifacts. When the government decided to centralize its treasury system, it created an infrastructure project, which included the development of new buildings, new vaults and a new security system. When MirexGlobe bid for this project, it was already in its final stages, ready to accommodate new tenants and items valued at trillions of dollars into the newly-built security complex.

  To comply with the Financial European Treaty, the Swiss government executed yearly audits on three percent of its stored items. Audits usually reported inventory, price evaluation and value analysis of its particular items. MirexGlobe had been contracted to audit the ‘Twin Crowns’, which were slated to be moved into new, hi-tech vaults. The origin of these items was unknown, but the assumption was that they’d come from Surat, India. The two identical crowns, owned by the East India Company in the seventeenth century, were believed to have been given as a gift to a Belgium monarch. From there, the crowns traveled to Monaco and Liechtenstein, the Vatican City and Spain. Nobody knows how they ended up in the vaults of the Swiss Treasury. Supporting documents were lost or destroyed in either World War I or World War II. They were labeled as ‘Owner Unknown’ in all the Treasury Department’s records.

  These identical crowns, when viewed by experts or presented to a regular crowd, generated unusual interest. In addition to the richness of the gemstones embedded on the crowns, the crowns were of an unusual size. They were too small for an average adult, but too large for a child’s head. A number of theories developed to explain this. Some claimed that the crowns were for presentation only. Other theories speculated that the crowns had been used in secret teenage royal marriage ceremonies.

  Each crown had two rows, with sixteen diamonds in each row. Groups of small but colorful emeralds and pearls were placed in between these two rows. The simple but elegant golden frames had no emblems or identifying features belonging to any particular monarchy.

  MirexGlobe's contract was for one month. The Treasury Department had special conditions: All work and all supporting activities needed to be done at the Geneva Treasury Department's offices. This condition also applied to the special tools and equipment being used.

  Gregory was assigned to this contract. Tamara had joined him twice, for two days each time, helping him with the delivery of the final documentation and special reports.

  Dina browsed quickly over the next thirty pages in the binder. There was nothing unique in the binder. It contained the daily schedules of Gregory's meetings and documents of his activities.

  Next was a Request for a Change. Dina remembered this request. On the first day when Gregory was ready to do his work, the head of the Treasury Department called Dina from Geneva and asked to change the contract from ‘Two crowns, with 32 mounted jewellery stones’ to ‘Two crowns, with 31 mounted jewellery stones and 1 single jewellery stone.’ He apologized and explained that, for an unknown reason, one of the stones was separated from the crown’s diamond mounting. Dina also recalled that Gregory was open to the change. Now his job was easier.

  The next pages were the Non-Disclosure Agreement. Dina looked at her watch; it was ten to ten.

  How lucky that they were given two crowns. And how lucky Gregory was when he started his work on the one with thirty-two diamonds. He measured and charted each stone. To do his job properly, he purchased graphic tools and special software.

  Dina smiled. When it came to research, there was no one quite like Gregory.

  Two weeks later, all thirty-two stones had been charted, drawn, measured, priced, and graded, captured on camera from all possible angles, and documented in an initial report. The client's committee, which did a preliminary review, was impressed. They never had such a thorough academic approach to an item's inventory and evaluation. The preliminary report’s ‘bonus’ materials, presented by Gregory, also impressed them. There, he described the special method used to produce and polish the crowns’ jewels, pointing to the uniquely masterful ability of their creator.

  It had been a great week for MirexGlobe. Tamara came in from Geneva on an afternoon flight, carrying boxes of Swiss chocolates. Igor brought a bottle of champagne, and Dina brought cheesecake from the bakery. That evening, Gregory spent hours on the conference room speakerphone, talking to the team and explaining the details of his discovery. Everybody was anxiously waiting for Dina’s final presentation of the report.

  Then, three days later, in the middle of the night, Dina received a call with shattering news.

  Even now, Dina could hear Gregory’s whispering voice: “They are fake, all of them! They are imitations, one hundred percent. Dina, please come to Geneva as soon a
s you can! All thirty two stones are phony.”

  Only the next day, when Dina arrived at the Treasury's headquarters and met with Gregory, did she fully understand the seriousness of the situation. Gregory was panicking. He explained to her how he had conducted a comparative analysis between the two crowns and found slight differences between the two. How he became suspicious and, in the end, how he had checked the stones one by one. He now had sufficient proof that they were fake. Dina faced a big challenge: when and how to present Gregory’s findings without casting a shadow on MirexGlobe's credibility. First of all, she reviewed the security procedures and made sure none of them had been breached. Then she hired a local lawyer who reviewed the MirexGlobe contract, making sure the company had no liability issues and were not bound by whether the items were real or fake. Two days after her arrival, she scheduled a meeting with the client's committee.

  Dina stopped replaying past events in her head. She looked back at the watch again. Gregory was already ten minutes late. She went back to the Geneva project.

  In the final meeting with the client, Gregory first presented the charts, details and schematics of a real diamond stone to the client committee. Then he presented the same details for a fake stone. In the end, he overlaid a chart of the fake with the real one, showing the visible differences. The committee members were quiet. They asked how many diamonds were fake? When Dina said thirty-two, the room froze. Nobody moved, nobody talked. Dina asked for a ten-minute break. It took three hours before the committee reconvened. As far as Dina could remember, the rest of the meeting was short and terse. Finish your contract on time. Produce a report with all of the details and evidence. Sign an additional extension for non-disclosure, protecting the company from any liability and sealing the company for an unlimited period of time from sharing, publishing, communicating and using project information.

  To Dina’s big surprise, at the end of the project the Treasury Department doubled MirexGlobe's compensation. Since then, Dina never heard about the Twin Crowns again.

  The phone rang. Dina noticed the call was coming from Tamara.

  “Hi, Tamara.”

  “Hi, Dina, sorry. Gregory is in the conference room. He is asking if you can join him.”

  “Who else did he ask to join?”

  “Igor and myself.”

  “I will be there in five minutes.”

  “Thank you.”

  Dina looked through the rest of the pages in the binder. The rest were copies of hotel receipts, boarding passes and equipment.

  She closed the binder, looked at herself in the mirror, tried to smooth out some stray hairs and left the room.

  Igor and Gregory were already sitting on opposite sides of the table. Gregory looked tired. His usual uniform, a brown jacket with black pants, was in need of a good dry cleaning. His eyes showed evidence of lack of sleep. His hair was long overdue for a haircut. He was sitting in front of his laptop and reading some papers. Dina sat at the head of the table.

  “How are you, Gregory?”

  “I've had better days.”

  Tamara joined the team. She overheard Gregory's comments.

  “If you are referring to your hair, you are absolutely right.” She sat close to Gregory and hugged him. He did not show any resistance and continued reading.

  “Should we close the door? We have guests in the reception area.”

  “Good idea.” Igor, who was close to the door, turned around on his chair and, using his right foot, closed it.

  “I would like to remind everybody that I would like to end this meeting with a status report update.”

  “No problem,” replied Tamara, “We are ready.”

  Ten seconds passed during which no one talked. Then, everybody looked in Gregory’s direction. He stopped reading, put the papers he was reading on the table, took the red box from his jacket pocket, and placed it in the middle of the table.

  “As all of you know, I was working today and yesterday, analyzing the diamond from this box. Yesterday, when I looked at it for the first time, I could not shake the strange feeling that I had seen it before. Familiar size, familiar shape. A warm and bizarre feeling, like meeting an old friend. Please do not laugh. When I took it out of the box and looked at it in front of the light, it was like the diamond was saying hello to me. I am not crazy. It took me two hours to take the required measurements. All this time, it felt like we were talking to each other.”

  “You are scaring me,” Tamara pushed her chair away from Gregory.

  “I finished all of the charts and graphs, I did the possible evaluations. You know I still have all of the equipment we used in Geneva. At two o’clock in the morning I called my friend and I received this chart from her.” The projector turned on, showing charts related to the diamond: lines of numbers, unfamiliar terminology such as crown angle, pavilion angle, crown height, diameters, measurements, weight and other information.

  “Don’t worry, you do not need to know, memorize or understand the terminology.”

  “Thank you, God Almighty.” Tamara put her hands in a praying position and looked at the ceiling.

  “You know where the chart came from?” asked Gregory, now starring straight at Dina. “It came from Geneva. It is the chart of one of the real crown stones I analyzed six years ago.”

  “Okay, please stop there!” Dina rose from her chair. “How did you get this? It is supposed to be sealed information. Did you breach the non-disclosure we all signed?”

  “No, Dina, please relax. I'm sorry, we did not breach any agreements. The information was sealed for five years and then unclassified. It is in a Treasury Department library, available to anybody who has access to the building. My friend works for the Treasury. Before she faxed me this chart, she got her manager's permission.”

  “Remember I told you that he,” Tamara pointed her index finger at Gregory, “is not ‘Tutti-Frutti.’ He had a girlfriend in Geneva, a nice blonde. She was the secretary of one of the managers.”

  “Tamara, stop please,” intervened Dina. “It is not your, or our, business. Gregory, please continue.”

  “Thank you, Dina. So it is a chart of one of the real diamonds we analyzed in Geneva, and now this chart, from the red box we received yesterday.” A new chart came on the screen.

  “Now I will put them beside each other so you can read them.” The two charts came up side by side.

  Everybody looked at the projector screen, reading the charts.

  “No way!” Igor reacted first.

  “Could it be a mistake, any room for coincidence?” asked Dina in a tense voice.

  “No Dina, nothing here is a mistake. I was awake almost all night. I checked, line by line, word by word. I was here in the laboratory at six in the morning and I took the measurements again. The stone we received yesterday was cut and polished by the same jeweler who did the rest of the real diamonds in the crown in Geneva. It was found in the same mine as the others in Surat. The stone was mounted in the same way as the others in the crown. Under a microscope I can see the marks of the mounting shoulders. We are in possession of an original, stolen crown diamond, valued at hundreds of thousands of dollars. Who would believe you were given it as a present from some stranger who presented himself as your lost brother? I do not know what to say. But I never was and I never will be a part of any criminal activity. And holding this diamond in our office looks like exactly that.”

  Before Dina had a chance to respond to Gregory, Igor stood up and took the red box from the table.

  “Okay, Gregory, I understand you. You were in possession of stolen goods all night. Now I am in possession of it. So, you have no reason to worry. Let us all relax. We did not do anything wrong for now. I would like to talk to Dina alone.”

  “Let's take a twenty-minute break and reconvene for a status meeting. Is everybody okay with a twenty-minute break?” Everybody was silent, so Dina continued. “Great.” Dina left the conference room followed by Igor.

  Dina closed he
r office door.

  “Please, sit down.”

  Igor remained standing.

  “It is yours.” He put the red box on the desk. “Please do not listen to anybody, especially Gregory. He is under tremendous stress. I will assure you. We are not involved in any criminal activity here. Gregory put his friend, or his girlfriend, whatever you want to call her, in an awkward position when he asked for her help. He's not thinking straight right now.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Yes, I am. You did not steal the diamond. It had been given to you. Why? We need to find out. I do have a proposal for you. We never asked the Treasury Department how they found out who was behind the diamond switch. What kind of investigation did they have after we finished our work and left Geneva six years ago? I need to go to Geneva for three to four days. Gregory will relax. I have good friends in Interpol who owe me two or three beers. I also have somebody in Scotland Yard’s fraud department. You need to tell the team I am going to investigate how to return the diamond to the Treasury. What do you think?”

  Dina was quiet for a moment. She felt tired and exhausted. The last couple of days, with all of their surprises and disappointments, suddenly had an impact on her mood and her body.

  “Okay, and what are we going to do after?”

  “Let us take this step by step, the way you have always done before. We had a bad week, but we are not at the end of it. Let us see what I can discover, what the Treasury discovered. And then we will have our situation evaluated. You can always throw the diamond into the river and forget about it.”

  Igor smiled. Dina felt sharp pain in her lower back again.

  “Good, ask Tamara to book you on the first available flight to Geneva. What are we going to do with the SHOMEA-1 recording?”

  “I checked the condo's regulations. You are required to call your elevator service provider and arrange a safety inspection if you are planning to sell the condo. I think when I am back from Geneva we will call them, pretending you are selling it. They cannot leave the SHOMEA-1 in the condo. It will be discovered in the first condo inspection by the new owners. We will follow them and hope we will be able to get to the bottom of that particular mystery.”

  Dina felt better; Igor’s optimism and positive energy gave her a surge of strength. She smiled.

  “What would I do without you?”

  “You would hire another retired police detective.”

  “Not in a million years.”

  They worked out a detailed plan of what and how to inform the rest of the team. Dina called Tamara and asked her to place the red box in a safety deposit box at the bank and to ask the team to come back to the conference room.

  The first two items on the status report were easy. Tamara reported that the Japanese were okay with Dina’s request and agreed to pay. The British government also replied and clarified that birth certificate authentication for people who already passed away was a normal procedure. They knew each of the cases MirexGlobe had concerns about and appreciated the company's attentive approach. They asked for five more birth certificate authentications.

  When it came to the Jan Van Beers painting, Gregory explained what he had done and why the two pictures he had given Dina looked identical. He found out how, at the end of the eighteenth century, black and white photos were transferred to canvas. The process required soaking the canvas for more than a week in a solution of silver bromide. During the period in which Van Beers painted, photography and photo print technology were in their infancy. The canvas was stretched on the original frame only after the painting was completed by the painter. To perform the chemical analysis and not damage the original painting, Gregory used a small area near one of the nails holding the canvas to the frame. He removed the nail, did his chemical analysis and inserted the nail back to where it was before. This was the reason Dina could not distinguish between the two pictures. Results showed that the canvas was never exposed to any chemicals. The painting was authentic: oil on canvas.

  “Good, let us finish the official report and send it to the client. Tamara, please make sure we are invoicing the client for all additional expenses.” It was obvious Dina was not in her best mood. Too many unsolicited disruptions have entered her structured, well organized and very busy life.

  “Igor is going to Geneva to sort out issues we have with the diamond. Until then we are treating it as highly confidential. Gregory, Tamara and the guard we hired will take the red box to our safety deposit box at the bank. We do not need it to be here in our office and have our body search every evening. Tamara, please cancel the guard service. Tomorrow I have two client meetings, so do not anticipate me being here.”

  Nobody's eyes were directed at Dina. She felt sorry for her team who, she sensed, felt tired and down.

  “I would like to apologize to you for my personal issues interfering with your work routine and your personal life. I didn’t mean it to be this way. But, after all that we've been through, I wholeheartedly know that without your help and dedication, without your support and hard work, it would be impossible for me to survive and to be of a clear mind. And for all you've done, I would like to thank you.”

  “You do not need to thank us.” Gregory stood up. “I personally would like to apologize for my selfish behavior this morning. I think I am speaking for all of us. We will support you to the end. I am sorry again.”

  “Yes, you should be sorry,” intervened Tamara. “And you Dina, please stop thanking everybody. If nothing else, I have a lot of work to do. We all should have the weekend off. Who likes my dress?” She jumped from her seat and spun around twice. Nobody could hold back their smiles. Peace and calmness returned to Dina’s team.

  Investigation

  Tamara booked Igor’s flight to Geneva for 6 a.m. The next day, Dina’s meetings started at ten. Her time this morning to check in with her team was limited. As always, new clients demanded her full attention. In the past – and this happened many times – the clients went over unnecessary and irrelevant details and facts over and over again. This was exactly the case during her first meeting this morning. Towards the end, Dina was completely confused. Her plan not to go into the office today was shattered. First, she tried to have a conversation with Gregory, but it was difficult to give him all the required information by phone. Dina took a taxi to the office and spent a full two hours with him. Then she ran to her second meeting which ended at eight o’clock in the evening.

  The next day was much more relaxing. Tamara and Gregory tried not to bother her. For most of the day, she was alone in her office speaking with clients or taking care of paperwork. At the end of the day, she heard that Igor had arrived in Geneva and that everything was going as planned. Dina cancelled Saturday's weekly status meeting with Tamara, giving everybody the weekend off.

  Dina took Roman's diary and her own notes home. The weekend passed by with her reading it slowly and carefully. On Saturday evening, she did Kerzhak Navigation. On Sunday she did it twice, in the morning and evening. Nobody called. She enjoyed her breakfasts on the balcony and, for the first time since her arrival, had a long restful sleep.

  On Monday morning Tamara was early as usual. On the way to the office she picked up a dozen red roses that she had ordered the day before. She was wearing green pants and a green blouse. Her bright mood brought a smile to everyone in the office. At exactly nine o’clock, Dina stepped into the reception area.

  “Is it St. Patrick's Day today?”

  “I do not know, but it is certainly not Yom Kippur,” replied Tamara.

  “You are too much, as usual. I missed you, Tamara.”

  “I missed you too, Dina, but I actually enjoyed not working on Saturday. Should we continue missing each other next weekend too?”

  “We'll see. Any news from Igor?”

  “Not really, but our romantic scientist is already here and working.”

  “For what day did you book Igor’s return?”

  “Tomorrow evening, I think six p.m.
I can check.”

  “No worries. I will need your help to go over some accounting transactions.”

  “Of course.”

  “Good, then we’ll start in one hour. My office, please.”

  “Yes, of course. Oh, I forgot to ask you: how was your weekend? Any romance?”

  “If you are not going to stop bothering me with your questions, I will send you to one of our cheerful clients who I met with two days ago.”

  Dina left.

  “Clients, shmi-ents, at your age you need to have a family,” mumbled Tamara, but Dina could not hear her.

  One hour later they both were sitting at Dina’s desk which was stacked with piles of paper. Once a month, Dina went through the financial transactions of the company before sending them to the accountant's office. Tamara hated this activity. Usually on such days, she would find a hundred reasons to leave Dina every fifteen minutes. Dina knew most of her tricks, so she asked Tamara to transfer the receptionist's phone calls to her office. On her way to the office she purchased two boxes of soft tissue, one liter of Coca-Cola, one big large chocolate bar, toothpicks and a cloth for cleaning glasses. We’ll see how you are going to surprise me today, she thought as she emptied her plastic bag on her desk.

  “Are we having a party?” asked Tamara.

  “No, we are not having a party. It’s for us so that we finish our work on the financial transactions before noon. Let us start.”

  “Yes, you are right Dina, let us start.”

  Dina watched Tamara; she saw that Tamara’s eyes were glued to the sweet items on her desk as she searched for a reason to escape.

  “We are starting now, so please do not try any of your tricks. I have everything you need here. I even have a portable toilet, there in my closet. You are not getting out of my office before we finish.”

  “I am not getting out. Why should I? Okay. Where do we start?”

  They worked for an hour and a half without interruption. More than half of the chocolate and tissues were gone. Tamara went easy on the Coca-Cola.

  “I'm watching my figure,” she explained.

  Then somebody knocked on Dina’s door.

  “Yes?” Dina answered.

  “Hi.” Gregory entered the office.

  “How are you Gregory, is everything okay?”

  “Yes, I simply do not know why the receptionist phone was transferred to my laboratory? I have been getting phone calls since ten o’clock.”

  “What phone? Tamara, I asked you to transfer it to my office. What is going on?” Dina looked directly in Tamara’s eyes.

  “I have no idea. Honestly, I may have, by mistake, transferred it to Gregory instead. Why did you not come to tell us?”

  “By mistake? I know you better. Gregory, do you have a list of who called?”

  “Yes, Tamara's friend called three times. I told her you were busy. Then Igor called two minutes ago and asked to call him back. There, I have his hotel phone and his room number. It is one a.m. in Geneva, but he asked you to call him when you have time. I promised to give you this message. Here.” And Gregory wrote Igor’s number on a small note.

  Tamara sat quietly, looking at the floor. Dina thanked Gregory as he left her office.

  “You are going to transfer your phone to my office. Call your friend and tell her to stop calling you every twenty minutes. Take all the rest of the transactions and finish them yourself as soon as possible. I am going to call Igor now.”

  Tamara continued sitting and staring at the floor.

  “I am sorry, it won't happen again.” She took a big pile of receipts and invoices and tried to leave the room.

  “Wait, please, what about the rest?” Dina pointed to the rest of documents Tamara left on her desk.

  “All of it?”

  “Yes. All of it! Please finish and call me when you’re done. We will do the final check together.”

  After Tamara left, Dina waited for a couple of seconds and then dialed Igor’s hotel.

  “Bonjour, comment puis-je vous aider?”

  “Hi, good morning. I would like to talk to room 1192, please.”

  “Good morning. May I ask for your name please?”

  “My name is Dina.”

  “Great Dina, please hold on the line.”

  In less than a minute, Igor’s voice came on.

  “Hi, Dina, how are you doing?”

  “I am okay. How are you? Is everything okay?”

  “Everything is great. I need to extend my visit for another two or three days. I need to go to Brussels. It will be great if Tamara could book the flights. If not, I can go by train.”

  “So, what you need are tickets from Geneva to Brussels and then home?”

  “Yes.”

  “I will approve it and will ask Tamara to contact you. She will let you know if flights are available. Do you need anything else?”

  “No, thank you. I am coming home with a lot of information. I hope after my visit to Brussels we will have the full picture. Do you know what I mean?”

  “Yes, I do. Have a great trip.”

  Tamara was extremely happy when Dina interrupted her accounting activities. Over the next two hours she worked on changing Igor’s itinerary. She called him twice and managed to wake him up both times. In the end, she successfully booked his flight to and from Brussels. Her good grasp of the French language helped her bargain for a great price at a four-star hotel in the centre of the Belgian capital.

  The rest of the week was relatively quiet. Gregory prepared a demo for a new client. Tamara reviewed the remaining financial transactions and Dina reviewed the final paperwork. All monthly receipts and invoices were transferred to the accounting office. The head of the Regional Ministry of Justice Fraud Department visited MirexGlobe and discussed options for future cooperation with Dina. Dina visited the safety deposit box in the bank twice. Each time she spent about fifteen minutes in the bank’s personal vault, one on one with the diamond. She held the stone with the tweezers that she borrowed from Gregory, carefully observing its corners and angles. As Dina moved the stone from left to right, up and down, the diamond changed color from light yellow to colorless and back to light yellow again. Dina felt like it was trying to tell her something, like it wanted to talk to her. For a second it projected a magical splash of lights creating a very bright aura around it and then the light disappeared. She held it close to her eyes and tried to look through it. Suddenly the room’s furniture, the shelves with boxes, the window and the door all had colourful rainbow frames. Dina felt as if she were in a dream, as if she had been transported to some kind of magical land. She closed her eyes and tried to understand her feelings. One of the Kerzhak Navigation lessons taught her how to observe her body’s conditions and how to link it to her feelings. Each time she visited the diamond she felt loved, lucky and very fortunate. She could not understand where the feelings came from. But she felt the same warm feeling she had when she was a young girl.

  Igor landed at noon on Friday. He called Dina from the airport, asked for two hours to get home and get ready, and inquired if it was a convenient time for the team to convene. Dina assured him that the team was waiting for him. Tamara ordered a late lunch for 3 p.m., arranged the conference room, brought in what was left of her roses and checked whether the projector was working. Gregory promised to clean his laboratory in time. They all waited with anticipation for Igor’s arrival.

  The meeting started as planned. Igor entered the conference room holding his briefcase in one hand and a duty-free bag with Belgian chocolates in the other. It was one of Tamara’s requests, made while changing his flight arrangements. Dina was sitting across from Gregory, letting Igor sit at the head of the table.

  “How is everybody in the land of MirexGlobe?” asked Igor.

  “We are okay. How was your flight?”

  “The flight was okay, but because of the traffic to the Brussels airport, I almost missed it.”

  Igor opened his briefcase and took out a y
ellow file.

  “Should we start?” he asked.

  “What about our lunch? It is coming in less than thirty minutes.” Tamara’s wide open hand gesture was meant to show everybody that she was very hungry.

  “We can start slowly. When the food arrives, we will have a short break and we all can eat here,” Dina replied. “Is anybody against a working lunch?”

  The team agreed to it.

  Igor sat down, opened his yellow file and started.

  “First of all, I would like to thank Dina, who made my trip possible, and Tamara, for the great flight and hotel arrangements. Gregory, for informing his friend who met me at the Geneva airport, and who helped me with all meeting arrangements.”

  “So, you met his girlfriend? How is she?” asked Tamara, smiling.

  “She is a great person and a great help to MirexGlobe. When I arrived in Geneva, I visited the Treasury Library and collected all of the available information related to the Twin Crowns – that is all the information published after we left Geneva six years ago. A lot of it was not relevant to my investigation. I can assure you that our company’s final report had a lot of great positive reviews. I checked who inquired about or asked for it, and I can tell you that the report has traveled around the world several times since it became available to the public. Bravo, Gregory, bravo.”

  “Thank you,” said Gregory, his face flushed.

  “I had no choice, I had to go through Aleksa,” continued Igor when the receptionist's phone rang, informing the team that somebody had entered the office. Tamara left and, two minutes later, came back with bags of food.

  “My favourite: Mexican cuisine with a Belgian chocolate dessert. Yummy, yummy.” Tamara gave everyone plastic plates and cutlery.

  “Bon appétit to us all.”

  “Bon appétit. I will continue. When I arrived in Belgium, I needed to start somewhere. I thought that if the Treasury had done an internal investigation and inquiry, it would be classified and the results would be stored somewhere in the Treasury. Aleksa had access to a catalogue with the names of all sealed reports.”

  “Who is Aleksa?” Tamara asked, with a mouth full of rice.

  “It's the name of my friend,” replied Gregory, blushing again.

  “Do not worry, I did not ask Aleksa to breach security. I needed to know only if the investigation was done internally. On the way from the airport we agreed that if she found something, she would go to the Treasury library and take out our report, only for half an hour. This way I could check in the library registration if she did it. The next day, I checked. She did not take it out. I had no choice and I needed to talk to my Interpol friend. The same day, I asked him to a late breakfast, then invited his wife and two sons to join me for lunch in the hotel, in addition to getting together with him again at an Irish Bar at 6 PM. My friend has good taste in oysters and beer. Dina, you will see the hotel bill to prove it. What he discovered was that the head of the Treasury committee, who did the preliminary reviews, approached Geneva Interpol the day after we presented that the diamonds were fake. I didn’t understand: why Interpol? Why go to an international body? What was the reason he didn't go to the local police? I now understand the reasons, and will explain them to you shortly.”

  Seeing Tamara yawning, Igor stopped.

  “Am I boring you, Tamara?” Igor smiled.

  “No way, it is the Mexican food. They always have a siesta after a big meal. It is not you; it is the food. Please continue.”

  “Interpol had no choice. They opened the case and called it ‘The Genie.’ Two detectives were immediately assigned to the case. I needed to get my hands on what they discovered. But the case was sealed for five years with security level ten, meaning we would need to get a local judge's approval for a review. We were lucky those five years passed eight months ago and the security level was lowered to seven. Now I could view the case in the presence of Interpol personnel at a local Interpol location. You wouldn't believe how happy my friend was when I proposed to him that he be this person. He immediately called his wife and informed her of the time and place for the next day's lunch with me. I was happy his two sons needed to go to school and would not join us.”

  Igor stopped, looked at what was left of the food, took a mineral water, opened it and drank directly from the bottle.

  “The day after, at eight in the morning, we were already reviewing ‘The Genie.’ The first pages contained a general explanation of the crowns, then Gregory’s report, proving that the diamonds were fake.

  Then there were standard Interpol forms. Guess who the first suspect was? It was MirexGlobe. They had everything: Gregory’s schedule, photos from security cameras in and out of the office. The dossiers for all of us, and the company's history and our financials. The investigation started and continued even while we were still working. They did very professional work. None of us felt or knew that we were under investigation.

  It looks like they came out empty-handed. Then there was a period of no activity – at least, none of the activities were documented. I assume the two detectives were busy collecting information, but ‘The Genie’ file had no evidence to support my assumption.” Igor took another sip from the bottle.

  “Tamara, why aren’t you sharing the chocolate with the team?”

  “I will Igor, I will. I was waiting for somebody to be a gentleman and clean the table after lunch. But we do not have such a custom in our company. I will clean it myself if you allow me, please. I can feel you are coming to the most interesting part of your investigation. Can you hold on for a moment, until I do my duties?”

  “I will help you.” Dina stood up and started to move empty food containers to the end of the table. Tamara produced a black garbage bag from her pant pocket and both of them cleaned the table.

  “I am going downstairs for coffee. Any unusual requests, or should I bring our regular daily supply?” asked Tamara.

  The team was quiet. Tamara left the room. Gregory left too.

  “Shouldn't you be tired after the flight?” asked Dina.

  “Not really, I slept well on the plane. Plus, the flight was only eight hours. How have you been?”

  “I am okay. Lately I've been having strange feelings about all this. Sometimes I feel like a puppet. Like somebody is trying to manipulate me. Do you think we will ever get to the bottom of this mystery?”

  “I am sure that we will.” Igor stretched his arms and legs. “I think I do have a better picture now than before my visit to Geneva though. You will see.”

  Ten minutes later, four freshly brewed cups of coffee rested in the middle of the table. Tamara opened the chocolate wrappers and declared, “Everybody is welcome to try the Belgian dessert, provided to you by your generous Tamara.”

  “Operation ‘The Genie’ came back to life two months later.” Igor continued his explanation. “What the Interpol detectives discovered was very interesting and entertaining to read. For me, how they got to the starting point of obtaining their information remains a mystery. But the fact remains that they did it. What they discovered was that thirty-five years ago, the Geneva History Museum, one of the largest and most respected museums in Europe, found out that the Swiss Treasury Department had the Twin Crowns, which were of unbelievable beauty and rarity. They asked for permission to see them.

  “The Treasury debated for a week and finally allowed the curator of the Museum to come for a short visit. The curator was not allowed to take any pictures. After this meeting the Museum decided to go public and published an article in local papers that criticized the Treasury Department for holding national treasures and not allowing the public to see them. A media war erupted, with the federal legal department getting involved. The Museum demanded the crowns be exhibited in public. The Treasury defended its position by claiming it did not know the true owners of the items. In the end, the story became so big that it spread from local media to upper political circles. Finally, the Treasury department agreed to exhibit the Twin Crowns unde
r some very strict conditions. The exhibit was supposed to last for only two weeks. The Treasury had to provide the security and guards. It was under the full discretion of the Treasury to cancel the exhibition immediately if they suspected any reasonable risk.

  The Treasury hired a reputable security company. The company provided four guards and twenty-four hour protection. Two armoured cars were parked in the museum parking lot in case an emergency evacuation of the crowns was required. The crowns were placed under glass boxes. Each crown was in a separate box. Each glass box had a wooden base. A special lock had been developed to lock the glass box to this base. A key with a unique design was engineered for the lock. Imagine putting four single keys at ninety degree angles to each other. Opening this lock was like opening four separate locks. The keys were held in the Treasury Department.

  “The exhibition was a great success. Newspapers and television reported the event nonstop. People lined up from the early morning to the late hours of the exhibition. There was an average of six thousand visitors per day. Pictures of the crowns were everywhere. There was even a national contest to find them a suitable name.

  “Then, two unpredictable events happened: First, the security company subcontracted some security activities to a smaller local company. It happened only one week after the exhibit was opened. Nobody documented the reasons for it. My conclusion was that the Treasury Department was pushing hard on the security company, demanding daily reports and status updates almost every two hours. Also, the volume of visitors presented new security risks, previously unidentified. The bottom line is, the new and smaller company replaced the one that was originally hired. The new company employed the same number of guards, four in total, three men and one woman.

  “The second event was that suddenly other museums in the country and abroad started to bombard the Treasury with requests to exhibit the crowns at their locations. They were driven by the volume of visitors and potential revenues. The Treasury was getting two, even three, requests for exhibits a day.

  “‘The Genie’ file had hundreds of documents with agendas and summaries of Treasury meetings aimed at dealing with this challenge. With the help of politicians, new policies and rules were legislated, limiting the time that Treasury items could be outside the Treasury vaults to no more than six months a year.

  “The museums were asked to participate in an evaluation process. Only ten of them were allowed to exhibit the crowns – the ones who were more secure and had the ability to hold the massive stream of visitors. Shortly after selecting ten lucky candidates, the Treasury recognized and confirmed that each location required at least two weeks of preparation before the start of the exhibit. There was a risk that the Treasury was shooting itself in the foot. With less than three and a half months left for the crowns to be exhibited that year it was impossible to have the exhibits in all ten chosen locations. At the end of the day, the Treasury was threatened with legal actions.

  “Meetings, agendas, summary documents and meetings again. I would need a month or two to go through it all. Then came the brilliant decision. The Treasury would allow the exhibit of only one crown at one location at a time. The twins would be separated. The museums were informed. Everybody was happy.

  “Now to the security challenge. You recall I mentioned the new security personnel of four people and two armoured cars?”

  Igor stopped, opened his briefcase and took out his notebook. Everyone knew that when Igor required written notes, his explanation was coming close to the main point and listeners had better pay attention to all of the small details.

  “Do you want to take a ten-minute break?” asked Igor. “I would like to go back to my notes to see if I missed any details.”

  “Great!” Tamara jumped to her feet.

  “Let’s regroup in ten minutes. I need to make a phone call. Buzz me when you are ready.” Dina left the conference room.

  Gregory and Igor were left alone in the conference room.

  “How is Aleksa?” asked Gregory.

  “She is a great lady. She sends you her regards and hopes to see you soon,” replied Igor, looking down at his notebook. “Are you planning any vacation in the near future?”

  “I wasn’t, but maybe it is a good idea?”

  “Go for it. She is pregnant with your baby, so do what’s right. Do not waste your life in a dark laboratory. Take Aleksa on a tour to Paris. I bet you will enjoy it.”

  “Do you think it is a good idea to have a long distance relationship?”

  “In today’s day and age, what is long distance?” Igor raised his eyes.

  “Do not neglect yourself. If you like her, go for it.” And he went back to reading his notes.

  Tamara called Dina, informing her that Igor was ready to continue his report.

  The team was together again. All throughout the break, Igor had reviewed his notes and wrote comments.

  “Good. You are all here.” Igor interrupted his writing. “Before I continue from the point where I stopped my story, I would like to ask you to do the following. I would like you, Dina, to try to remember any details about your dad. Tamara, I will ask you to write down all that Dina can remember and I will take a short restroom break. For now, please do not show me what you wrote. I will explain later. Dina, please try – as many details as you can.”

  Igor left the conference room quickly. Tamara was ready to write. Dina closed her eyes, sat quietly for a moment and then started to dictate.

  “He was around five foot six. He had brown eyes. I would not say athletic, but a strong build. Always a short haircut. He never wore a ring or any other jewellery. He had a pink scar on his left hand. The scar was eight or ten inches long. He liked hats, never left home without one. I know that he knew how to swim.” Dina stopped and looked directly at Gregory. “He had my potato nose. He never smoked. He was a heavy snorer. His friends and co-workers called him Max.” Dina stopped again. She stood up and started pacing from one corner of the table to another.

  “I cannot remember anything else. Strange! If I close my eyes I can imagine his face and his figure. But I cannot explain it in detail. It is all in my imagination. Strange! Too bad I am not an artist and cannot draw portraits.” She smiled sadly. “I think that is all I can give you for now.”

  “Do not torture yourself Dina. It is enough. If you want to add anything else, let me know. I will add it without showing it to Holmes.” Tamara folded the written paper in two and covered it with her hands.

  “We are all good.” Igor marched into the conference room. “I promise it won't take long, maybe an hour or two or three.” He smiled, sat down, opened the yellow file, looked at the three people sitting in front of him, slightly tilted his head to the right side and continued.

  “So, a short summary of what I reported to you earlier: the Twin Crowns were exhibited for two weeks at the Geneva History Museum. After one week of exhibition the original security company that was responsible for the security of the Crowns sub-contracted this task to another, much smaller, company. The security assignment was handled by four guards and included two armoured cars. The Crowns were exhibited in glass cases with a special lock and a special key. Ten other museums had been approved to participate in exhibiting the Crowns. New regulations allowed the crowns to be outside the Treasury vaults for no more than six months in any calendar year. This particular year had only three and a half months left for ten chosen museums to hold exhibitions. The Treasury agreed to split the exhibition of the two Crowns and allowed the separate exhibition of each crown. My dear fellow listeners, do you have any questions or concerns?”

  The room was quiet. Igor looked at his teammates. Tamara was fidgeting in her chair. Igor felt she would explode with a dozen questions any second now. He did not want to take that chance and rushed back to his reporting.

  “You also remember our four security guards, three men and one woman. The Interpol documents show that the security company was contacted with a request to increase security personne
l. We do not have evidence of the company's reply. We know that for the last two weeks at the Geneva History Museum there were four guards and during the next four weeks each crown had only two guards. The number of guards was increased to three per crown, but it happened after. After the Geneva History Museum, one crown went to the Rosengart Collection in Luzern, and another crown went to the Museum of Fine Art in Basel. Nothing interesting happened in Luzern. The two guards, a man and woman with an armoured car, arrived there on time. The exhibit was met with great success. Everybody was happy, and it looked like the Treasury's decision to split the Crowns was a good one.

  The Basel exhibition, on the other hand, had a small hiccup. The guards arrived in Basel from Geneva on time and without any problems. The Museum of Fine Art was ready. The crown in the glass cover was placed in a specially designed and renovated room on the second floor. The room had no windows – extra lights were added – and two doors, each on opposite sides of the room, one for entry and one for exit. The stream of visitors could move only in one direction. The exit door connected the exhibit room with another smaller room with two couches. One of the guards was always present at the entry door. The other was inside the room with the couches. A local museum guard was always inside the exhibit room. After 7 p.m. when the museum’s entrance was closed and the last of the visitors left the exhibit room, the entry door was locked and the crown was moved to the room with the couches. There, two guards were supposed to spend the night. Not ideal conditions, but it looked like the guards agreed to it. Of course when, a month after, a third guard joined them, one of them would take a full day off. But for the month we are interested in, only two guards were doing the security job.”

  Igor looked at Gregory, whose hands were playing with a napkin. His face openly expressed a painful boredom.

  “I know that these are a lot of boring details, but I will ask you to trust me now. All of the details are relevant to our case. If you want, we can have a short break.”

  Gregory understood that Igor was talking to him and he put both his hands down on his knees and said, “I am sorry. Please continue.”

  “The evening of the third day promised to have no surprises. The guards received their dinner from an Italian restaurant close by. The administration of the Museum arranged the food orders and delivery. Every second day it was from different restaurants in the area. The entry door was locked and the crown moved to the room where the two guards were dining and sleeping. What happened next is not a hundred percent clear, but by ten o’clock an ambulance was called to the Museum and one of the guards was taken to the local hospital with a possible heart attack. His name was John Nikolase, and he was twenty-eight years old. Interpol obtained his name and age from the archived hospital records. John was released the next day at six in the morning. Based on witness accounts, he then took a taxi to the museum. The hospital records show the reason for hospitalization as a ‘minor heart event.’ John never had any heart problems before and never after.

  “John was a professional mountain climber, who had been involved in that sport since the age of sixteen. I met him in Brussels. He is still climbing every year, worldwide, and he is involved in the training of new climbers. The guard who stayed alone at the museum was the one who had called the ambulance the evening before. Nobody else was in the museum building. John was very surprised at how he knew where the telephone was on the first floor and thanked the other guard for saving his life. The exhibits continued as scheduled. Interpol tried to get information about the sub-contracted security company. What they found, reviewing the Government registration, was that the company was dissolved a month after the Crowns came back to the Treasury vaults. The names of the company owners were not found. Interpol interviewed John Nikolase. I found what he had to say interesting, which is why I traveled to Brussels, where he lives now.

  “I met a man in his late fifties, working as a photographer for a number of newspapers. He is married and has two children and a cat. A big and fat cat named Nikita. I introduced myself and we spent a good two hours together, discussing thirty-year old events. He joined the security company after he replied to the ad in a Geneva newspaper. They hired him on the spot. He looked strong, had a Swiss Army background and agreed to work crazy hours. Before the crown assignment he had three short contracts with the company. His motivation was money. His wife was pregnant, he had one year to finish an art-photography degree and the role of a security guard worked well. Securing the Crowns was an easy task. All of the exhibit locations had security requirements already implemented, since they were already in museums. He was a young and ambitious person. Being a photographer helped him to pass the long working hours. He watched visitors, pretending he was taking photographs, evaluating and analyzing imaginary compositions, lights, shadows and colors. During the two weeks of work at the Geneva History Museum, he observed a hidden relationship between three other guards. They acted like they were strangers, but their gestures when they talked to each other and their looks at each other revealed otherwise. Sometimes he felt they were sending hidden signals in their smiles or eye movements.”

  Igor paused, looked around at the team and continued.

  “What I am going to say next may, at the beginning, sound like a strange request. Please listen until I finish and act based on your morals and professional ethics. You know that I’ve served for more than twenty years in the police force and have been with MirexGlobe for the last ten years. Throughout my entire career I have tried to follow the principles of a good citizen. One of the rules I always have in my work is never to jump to premature conclusions. I need all of the facts, all of the arguments, assumptions and evidence to be in front of me. I also like the logical approach. I am telling you all this for a reason. The next details you are going to hear from me may have a strong impact on you, impact on your day to day work, impact on the relationships in our team. Why and how it will have an impact, I will explain later. You can protect yourself from what I am going to discuss in a minute. You can leave the room so that you are oblivious to all the details and evidence.”

  Gregory started playing with the napkins again. Tamara was looking at the ceiling. Dina stood and approached the white board.

  “I think I have the right to intervene. It is my personal case. I sent Igor to Geneva. It is my obligation as the owner of the company to protect it. I feel we are approaching the point where my decisions are required. From this moment I would like to ask you, Tamara, and you, Gregory, not to be a part of or involved in what Igor is ready to explain. Please excuse my roughness. Sorry.” Dina could not look at their faces. Instead her eyes concentrated on a picture on the opposite wall.

  Tamara stood up.

  “I know both of you want to protect us. Sorry, I should not speak for ‘us.’ I should talk about myself only.”

  “Here you are wrong, Tamara.” Gregory rose from his chair. “I give you a hundred percent approval to talk about us. I can see where this is going. And I am okay with being a part of it.”

  “Good, Gregory. I do not know where this is going.” She smiled. “But I know one thing: that Dina’s private case now becomes our private case. We all know too much to go back. We know about your brother’s diary. We know about Yellow Raincoat. We know about the fake diamonds and the real one, which is in our safety deposit box. It sounds crazy, but you, lady, have only one way to get rid of us. Gregory, am I right, by speaking for ‘us’?

  “Yes. You are right, Tamara.”

  “You have only one way to get rid of us; it is to fire us now. But thank God our government protects me and Gregory from going home now as you need to give us two week's notice.”

  “And the package will have to include compensation with a lot of settlement money. I am not sure you have it,” added Gregory.

  “Way to go, partner,” said Tamara, walking around the table and standing close to Gregory, putting her arm around him.

  For a second Dina became very angry, so angry she could feel bl
ood rushing to her head. Her cheeks became red. Her brain dictated her to shout, ‘You are all fired!’ But nothing came out of her mouth. She looked directly at the rebellious couple and she could not hold on to her anger any longer. Tamara, six feet tall, ten inches taller than Gregory, had an unusually serious face. She hugged this curly middle-aged man with such power and intensity that it looked like he was in pain and ready to let out a scream. Dina knew exactly what Tamara was doing. Dina was not a person to make an important decision on the spot. It was against her nature. She needed time to analyze, to weigh all of the options, to estimate the risks. It seemed that Gregory, too, knew her weakness and played in unison with his tall friend. Dina had no choice. It had all gone too far. In her mind she acknowledged that she had made a big mistake by involving her team. But now there was no way back and no way out. At least at the current moment, here in the conference room, she had no other options, only to continue and let everybody relax. She promised herself that she would do what she could, and this evening would be dedicated to finding a solution to this mystery. She did not say a word and went back to her seat.

  Tamara quickly released Gregory, who made a deep ‘yffffff’ sound, and rushed to her chair. Tamara slowed with visible triumph in her posture, as she walked past Dina on the way to her seat.

  Dina did not wait for Tamara to sit down and finish her theatrical performance. She turned to Igor. “You can continue, please.”

  “Okay.” Igor looked at his file and continued.

  “This information comes directly from Interpol's report. I confirmed with John from Brussels that it came directly from him when Interpol conducted their investigation. When John was released from the hospital, around 6 a.m., he took a taxi directly to the Museum. The entry gate to the museum was guarded twenty-four hours a day. He had no difficulty getting past it as he had a security card from the security department of the Museum. The Interpol file refers to the second guard as a ‘Maximilian’. John could not remember the name, only the fact that it began with the letter ‘M’.”

  Dina looked at Tamara’s hands, still holding the paper with her dad’s characteristics that both of them had documented before.

  “Can I have that please?” she asked and held out her hand in Tamara’s direction.

  “Yes, of course.” Tamara moved the page across the table.

  Dina took a pen and wrote something on it.

  “It was interesting that the guy, we’ll call him Maximilian, was very much surprised that John had been released from the hospital so early. According to John, Maximilian was nervous and asked the tired and sleepy John many questions. Another strange thing was a toolbox. It was the one that was usually kept in the armoured car by the guards. The same box was on the floor in the room. To get it from the car, Maximilian needed to have left the crown unattended. When asked what the toolbox was doing in the room, he answered that one of the sofas was broken and he had tried to fix it before John returned from the hospital. Even today, John thinks that it was a silly reason, but no other explanation was offered by Maximilian.

  “Until today, John has no idea why Interpol interviewed him and no clue about the fake jewellery. I presented myself to him as a foreign journalist who had access to ‘The Genie’ file and who was writing an article about the Twin Crowns. When interviewed by Interpol, John forgot to mention that the same toolbox was lost in one of the journeys between the exhibitions and that the company provided them with a new one afterwards. I promised him that I would ask to add this detail to the file.

  The coincidental timing of John’s minor heart event, the appearance of the toolbox in the room, Maximilian breaking the rules and leaving the Crown unattended, or even worse, taking it with him to get the toolbox from the car – all of this together made Interpol and me think of Maximilian – or whoever it may be, with a name starting with an ‘M’ – as the prime suspect.

  “Another ear-catching characteristic of Maximilian was the fact that he was snoring. John suffered great discomfort sleeping with him in the same room. He used to cover his head with a pillow, but according to him, it did not help much. Also, Maximilian had a big scar on his left hand, which according to him was a result of his wild teenager days. Five feet seven or six, he used to exercise every morning and had a nicely built, muscular body. He had brown eyes and his hair begged for a haircut. You could feel that he did not like his hairstyle as he always complained about a lack of time to go to the barber. And since Maximilian did not wear a wedding ring, John deduced that Maximilian was not married.”

  Igor stopped and looked directly at Dina, who put her pen down and was staring at the paper.

  “What are you trying to say, Igor, that Maximilian is actually Max, my dad? From all that you've described, it looks like him. The only difference from my list and your description is the fact that my dad was a good swimmer, but there is no reason why John should have known that and therefore reported it to Interpol. Yes, he loved to wear hats. But then, guards wear hats all the time.” Dina’s last words were barely audible. Her eyes were glued to the paper. Her hands were slightly shaking. She could not hide her sadness. She felt as if a dark cloud had suddenly appeared from nowhere and swallowed her. Her shoulders sunk down.

  “Please, continue.” Her voice trembled.

  “No Dina, we will take a short break. You and I will go to your office. We need to talk. Tamara, can you please bring two bottles of cold water? I suddenly feel thirsty.”

  Igor took his yellow file and approached Dina’s chair. He helped her stand up and both of them left the conference room.

  “You need to be strong,” began Igor, looking at Dina, who was sitting with her eyes closed. “I know that the news I am bringing to you is shocking. But remember, we are talking about a man who had been in your life for only eight years and more than twenty years ago.”

  “He is still my father. Should I accept the fact that he is a thief, a burglar?” Dina covered her face with her hands.

  “He may well be. If he was, he was that before you were born. You don’t know what became of him later. You are his child and bear no responsibility for his behaviour. Listen to me, Dina, you need to compose yourself, and we need to get to the bottom of this investigation and then to decide how to act. Listen to me. I am twice your age. Nobody has been blamed and accused of any criminal activities. Even though all of the evidence indicates that your father is responsible for switching the diamonds, Interpol closed the file and had zero accusations toward him or anyone else. We will need to go back to the conference room.”

  At that moment there was a knock on the door of the office.

  “Come in,” said Dina.

  The door opened and Tamara entered, holding a small tray with two bottles of water and two glasses.

  “Tamara, we will be out in five minutes,” said Igor.

  “Can I help with something?” asked Tamara.

  “No, we are okay. Thank you, Tamara. We will be out soon.” Dina tried to smile, but it came out as more of a frown. Tamara looked frustrated.

  “Okay, Gregory and I will wait for you in the conference room.” She left. Igor filled the glasses with water. Both of them were quiet for a moment and both emptied their glasses.

  “Before we go back, I would like to show you the face composite that Interpol composed six years ago. Mind you, they did it with the help of only one eyewitness, John. It is important to us that you don't see the pictures in front of the entire team. That is why I’ve asked you to come here. Look and pour out your emotions now, not in the conference room. There, you are going to be strong. Are we in agreement?”

  “Yes, I am ready.”

  Igor pulled one picture from the yellow file and put it in front of Dina.

  “This is the woman from the guard’s team.”

  Dina took the picture into her hands and looked carefully, studying every detail. The picture was black and white. Igor looked carefully at Dina’s face, trying to catch any gleam of emotion. Dina rel
eased the picture and moved it towards Igor.

  “Okay, good, now the next one.” And Igor took out another picture and handed it to Dina. The man in the picture looked familiar. She did not know why she moved the picture closer to herself.

  “I think I've met this man before. Some features of his face look familiar.”

  “Okay, now let us review the two pictures together.” Igor put the picture of the woman near the picture of the man and covered half of their faces with a piece of paper. It was a famous trick that police used to identify faces. Usually people remembered eye impressions and eye forms better than the rest of the face.

  “Dina, what do you see now?”

  “I know both of these eyes. I know them.” She looked at Igor and her eyes filled with tears. She looked back at the covered pictures. Tears ran down her face and landed on the paper covering the pictures.

  “I am sorry.” She wiped the tears with her hand.

  “Dina, who are they?”

  “They are my surrogate uncle and aunt who brought me here. I have no idea where they are now. They have the same eyes. She looks different; he looks more like himself, not a hundred percent, but close. I may be mistaken. They were good people.”

  “They are Dina, they are. Remember, this face composition is thirty years old. You may react subconsciously to what looks familiar or what you want to believe or want to see. We will give these pictures to Gregory and ask him to make these people ten years older.”

  Dina rubbed her eyes with both her hands and wiped what was left of her tears from her cheeks.

  Igor produced another picture, keeping it upside down.

  “Are you okay?”

  “Yes, I am ready.” Every word Dina pronounced was followed with a nose sniffing sound.

  Igor pushed the box with tissues toward Dina’s right hand. He turned the picture over. His one hand held Dina’s right wrist and the other pushed the picture forward. Dina gasped and covered her mouth with the napkin. Her dad’s eyes were staring at her from the picture. An unusual haircut, long hair covering his ears. The same smiling eyes that she remembered, a familiar nose and the same forehead.

  Dina could not contain her emotions any longer. She took the picture, brought it up to her face and kissed it.

  “That’s the way I like it. That’s my girl.” Igor was already behind her back, hugging her shaking shoulders. Dina held the picture with her two hands, covering her face with it, whimpering loudly.

  “Shh, shh. You met him finally, you should be happy. You now have a picture of your dad. And I think you have a real chance of meeting him again.”

  “You really think so? Look what I have done to the picture.” Dina put the picture back on the desk and started to smooth it out.

  “Do not worry, I knew with whom I am dealing, and I have two additional copies. Okay, now I am going to the conference room. I will close the door behind me. You will run to the washroom to clean yourself up and then you will become the boss of the company again. Are you okay now?”

  Dina paused before replying. Things were happening too fast for her. She looked around, searching for her magic relaxation anchor, the Ficus. The magic worked again. She felt more relaxed. The tears stopped running. She cleaned her face with another napkin. She glanced back at the picture and smoothed it out again.

  “Whether you’re a thief, a burglar, a robber or a murderer, I love you, dad. We are survivors. We are here to survive, and we will do what it takes to survive. We are survivors, dad. We are.”

  The overall mood changed when Igor joined Tamara and Gregory in the conference room.

  “Dina will be here soon. We will continue. There are three composites of the guards' faces from Interpol. Those are the two who went to Luzern. John and this one are from Basel. Dina recognized this picture. It is her father. The man and woman from Luzern also have familiar faces. Gregory, can you please take the pictures and try to make the faces look older, by about ten to twelve years?”

  “I will. How is Dina doing?”

  “She took it hard, but I think she is okay now.”

  “You think we can help somehow?” Tamara watched the locked door.

  “I think we can. We should give her some space, but I am not sure it is a good idea to leave her alone over the weekend.”

  “I am going to invite her to dinner tomorrow. She likes to play with my stepchildren.” Tamara smiled.

  The door opened and Dina appeared, holding a bottle of Coca-Cola and two dark chocolate bars in her hands.

  “They were left in my office after our accounting exercise. Maybe somebody wants them?” She smiled, trying to hide her red eyes by squinting.

  “Too many sweets for one day,” replied Tamara, “but you know I can’t resist dark chocolate.” She took the bars from Dina’s hands and started to open one of them.

  “Good timing, Dina.” Igor rushed to continue to avoid any pauses which could create another emotional storm or awkward silence.

  “Gregory will age the pictures. Now, on to the final Interpol report. I had a chance to take a copy of it. Totally illegal, but I thought it worth all of the lunches and the dinners I kept having with my friend and his charming family.” Igor looked around, smiled and started again.

  “Okay, criminals, here we go. Directly from Interpol, ‘The Genie’ file. The investigation's conclusions: after reviewing and analyzing data provided by eye witnesses, John Nikolase and Basel General Hospital personnel, and after evaluating all of the facts and evidence, we came to the following conclusions. A: No future criminal investigation is required. B: No individual person or group of people has been identified as potential candidates for any illegal activities. C: The investigation proved the possibility that a crime had been committed in this period of time, but it remains undiscovered and unclear how and by whom it was committed. Suggestions: ‘The Genie’ case to be considered ‘Closed’.” The Genie’ file and supporting documentation will be kept sealed for five years from the day of closing. Signature, signature, signature.

  “I could not get in contact with the Basel General Hospital personnel. Nobody there had any clue about Interpol's investigation and ‘The Genie’ file did not have a single paragraph to explain this final statement. Only one sentence – somebody saw John taking a taxi to the Museum. John confirms it as a true statement.”

  “So, what now?” Gregory looked at Dina, waiting for her reply. It looked like Dina was hesitating to give an answer.

  “I think we need to go back to our old chart.” The silence was interrupted by Igor. He left his chair and moved to the chart on the white board. The same chart he had tried to develop before he left to Geneva. He looked at the drawn square. The left corner, ‘Dina,’ the next corner, ‘Roman,’ the next, ‘Dad,’ and the final, ‘Yellow Raincoat’. The diamond was in the middle of the square. The diamond drawing was connected to the ‘Dina’ corner and the ‘Yellow Raincoat’ corner with thick, red lines.

  “I think we can safely assume this connection too.” Igor took a red marker and drew a line between the ‘Dad’ corner and the diamond. Everybody except Dina was looking at the chart.

  “I think we've had enough for now,” this came from her. “I would like all of you to take the weekend off. I need to get many things in order. I will be at home in case you need me. Thank you for all you've done. This is a lot of valuable information.”

  “Dina, could I call you tomorrow evening?” Tamara asked delicately.

  “Yes, of course. I am not planning any trips out of town for now. We will get together on Monday. Please do not worry, I am okay. I simply need time.”

  “Dina I would like to ask you a favour. Could you lend me Roman's diary for the weekend?”

  “Yes, Igor. It is in my office. I will bring it to you before I leave.”

  Silence filled the room again. Everybody stayed motionless; nobody wanted to be the first to leave.

  “I really think we can't end this day in this way. Let us all go to the ba
r or for a walk. I know one bar close by, Gregory; there is a great piano there. Dina, what do you think?” Tamara’s voice sounded excited.

  “I'm in.” Dina smiled for the first time.

  “It's great, I love you all, let's go.” Tamara rushed from her chair, swung the door open, took Dina by her hand and pulled her toward the exit. The team followed.