Page 53 of Clive Cussler The Iron Storm (An Isaac Bell Adventure #15)

T he girl held out for three days. Archie Abbott was impressed. With Al Tanner’s cops beating the bushes for her, he figured she would have gone to the bar a day or two ago. He knew she’d go there. It’s why he left his card with the bartender with instructions to give it to her when she showed up.

“Who told the cops about me? You?” she asked when he’d picked up his phone and identified himself. She had an accent that couldn’t mask her anger.

“It was easier to flush you out than for me to hunt you down. What is your name?”

“Hanna Muntean.”

“It’s nice to speak with you, Hanna. As you know from my card, my name is Archie and I’m a private detective, but not police. Do you understand?”

She ignored his trying to charm her. “You knew I would come to the bar? How?”

“It’s the only public place connecting you to Vano Hetzko. You had to go back to find out who convinced the police Vano’s death was murder and not a suicide.”

“I didn’t kill him,” she said at once.

Archie took it as a good sign that she didn’t want him to think she was a murderer. It was clear that she already cared what he thought of her.

“I never believed that you did. Neither do the police, now that I’ve talked to them.”

“I didn’t know he was going to kill him.”

“Balka Rath?”

“Yes.”

“What is he to you? How do you know him? Is he your boyfriend?”

“No,” she spat. “Never. Not if he was the last man on earth.”

It was clear from the vehemence of her denial that she once harbored strong feelings for him, love or her version of it, but now felt betrayed. This is good, Archie thought. He could use that.

“You need protection from him.”

“Now I do, thanks to you,” she shot back at him.

“You always did, only now you’re a priority because the police are involved. He can’t take the chance of you being interrogated. He’s hunting for you even as we speak.”

“No. He is on a mission with my brother.”

“What mission?”

“Do you think they tell me anything?”

She was scared and getting defensive. Archie had to be careful, or he’d lose her.

“Let me help you. We can protect you.”

“I can take care of myself.”

“Normally I would agree with you, but I don’t think you quite understand how dangerous Balka Rath really is.

He’s part of a group back in Europe who will kill without a second’s thought.

My partner is over there now. He’s seen them kill at least ten people, several in cold blood, one of them an injured soldier.

They are savages, Hanna, and we believe they are on their way to New York led by Balka’s older brother, Karl.

Even if Balka has a soft spot for you, his brother does not, and he will order your death as soon as he finds out you exist.”

This was met by silence.

Archie continued. “Please, Hanna. Let me help you. We are going to round up Balka, his brother, and all the rest, and then you will be safe. Until we do, though, you need protection. Can we meet?”

“I…”

“Do you know the carousel in Central Park?” Every New Yorker did.

“Yes.”

“Meet me there at three. I will be carrying an umbrella.” There wasn’t a cloud in the sky, so he’d be the only one.

He was sure he would have recognized her by her body language alone, but it was important that she approach him as part of him winning over her trust. It was like trying to befriend a stray animal.

You had to make them want to come to you.

“If you help me, Hanna, we can put this all behind us that much quicker. Three o’clock. ”

He hung up without giving her time to answer.

“What’s that all about?” asked James Dashwood, one of the permanent agents in the New York office. He’d once been Isaac Bell’s protégé, but was now a top investigator in his own right.

“A girl who can help me track down an anarchist tied to the group that Isaac fell in with over in Europe.”

“I heard Isaac’s on his way back.”

“Not exactly. He’s going to the Azore Islands to make sure these nihilists haven’t absconded with an old German battleship.”

“And if they have?”

“Heaven help us all.”

Archie arrived at the park several minutes early.

The air was still a little cool so there weren’t that many children waiting to ride the park’s famous carousel.

Still, it was a city favorite, and so there were always kids, usually with their mothers or nannies, willing to fork over the nickel for a ride.

It wasn’t that long ago that the power to turn the merry-go-round was provided by a horse or donkey tied to the central pole down in the basement under the ride.

They were trained to stop and start when the operator tapped the floor with his foot.

Now it was powered by electricity, and old-timers said it smelled so much better than before.

Central Park was the city’s great equalizer.

Anyone, from grandee to guttersnipe, used the park, so no one really stuck out as not belonging.

Not knowing Hanna’s circumstance and not wanting her to feel uncomfortable or, worse, have her barred from entering, Archie couldn’t have invited her to the Knickerbocker Hotel or a nice restaurant.

Here in the park, Archie looked as in place in his bespoke suit as the young nanny in a threadbare dress and secondhand coat pushing a pram, while another of her charges talked excitedly about the make-believe race he’d won on the carousel.

Archie spotted Hanna Muntean before she saw him.

She was dark-haired with a dusky sort of complexion.

She was about twenty, pretty, but Archie could see that life was already taking its toll.

The way she slouched made her look like she carried the weight of the world on her shoulders.

She wore a black dress and coat clutched tightly at the throat for warmth, but also for psychological protection.

She didn’t fidget much, but she was actively watching her surroundings, making certain that no one was approaching her from behind.

He was reminded of a little mouse coming out of its hole at the first whiff of food, at once tentative and determined.

He strolled past her, his incongruous umbrella in hand for her to see.

She didn’t show any sign of recognition, which he didn’t think she would.

She was young, but had been around long enough to know how to protect herself.

He walked to a nearby bench and sat, the umbrella upright between his knees.

Hanna didn’t approach directly, but circled around a little bit so her joining him didn’t seem so obvious.

“Hello, Hanna. I’m Archie Abbott. Thank you for meeting me.”

She didn’t say anything. He understood why.

Talking to him and potentially helping him was an act of betrayal to her and all those like her—not exactly criminals, but not citizens, either.

She and her friends lived by their wits and had to trust each other with their lives.

Talking to outsiders was simply not done unless they were a mark for some scam.

“Were you there when Balka killed Vano?”

“I…No. I had left the apartment, but I waited downstairs. I heard something hit the sidewalk. I looked out and saw him on the ground. He was…broken. I ran out the back of the building.”

“How do you know him, Balka Rath?”

“We are the same cla—” She was about to say clan, but stopped herself. “From the same part of Hungary.”

Archie had already guessed she was Roma, what others derisively called Gypsies for the misguided belief the people had originated in Egypt.

They were hated across much of Europe because they were so clannish and resisted integrating into whatever country they immigrated to.

That hate had come over on the migrant ships to America’s shores and so she was naturally reluctant to discuss her family’s past.

“He came here last fall. Sent by his brother. Karl is famous, even here. He is a strong leader who has dedicated his life to protecting our people. Karl knows my father and so he sent Balka to us. My papa is dead, so my older brother became his contact here. He was so handsome and mysterious. I…” She caught herself and went quiet.

She had clearly fallen under Balka’s spell, and just as clearly that love had soured, perhaps over the murder of Vano Hetzko, perhaps something else. It didn’t matter.

Archie asked, “What was Balka’s mission?”

“I don’t know.”

“No one has discussed it around you?”

“I am a woman. Nothing is discussed around me.”

“I need to find him, Hanna. A short while ago, Karl Rath forced my friend Isaac into a dangerous mission that could have made the Dutch enter the war. And just so you understand the stakes, the Germans would roll through Holland with ease, killing thousands in the process. We think Karl may be trying to do the same thing here. Engage in some monstrous act that will compel America into joining the war.”

“But the President said that the United States will never enter the war in Europe.”

“Depending on what Karl Rath does, he might not have a choice.” Now for the hard sell, Archie thought, the make-or-break moment.

“Balka is likely part of that plan, Hanna. From what you’ve told me, your brother is, too.

I need to stop them before they hurt anyone, themselves included.

The police are now looking for Balka, but they don’t know the kind of man he is.

He’d rather die than get captured. He’d likely get your brother killed, too. ”

Hanna sat very still on that park bench, her delicate hands in her lap, fingers interlaced, like the knots in her mind that she needed to tease apart to discover what was right.

“I need to find Balka before it’s too late, before Karl arrives and they unleash whatever hell they have planned for New York.”

She remained silent for a minute, wrestling with her clan loyalty, her love for her brother, her newfound hatred of Balka.

Archie saw a strength in her that was well beyond her years.

That meant there was another element swirling in her mind.

She was brave and independent, but had been marginalized her whole life by her gender.

He was giving her a chance at her own agency and she was wondering if she had the will to take it.

She gave an unconscious little nod when she’d made up her mind.

“If I knew, I think I would tell you. You have kind eyes and are very, ah, earnest, but I do not know where they are. I haven’t seen Hanzi or Balka in a week, maybe ten days.

I’ve asked around. No one knows where they are or what they are doing. ”

Archie believed her. That made his disappointment all the worse. He’d gotten through to her, but she had nothing to offer. A guy like Balka Rath would be a ghost. Al Tanner and his boys at the First Precinct would never find him, and now it looked like neither would he.

“My brother has a truck,” Hanna said after a few moments. “I think whatever they are doing will involve it.”

“Can you describe it?”

“It’s a truck. Old. I don’t know, but I would recognize it if I saw it.”

Archie thought about the nearly five hundred miles of roads on Manhattan Island and the odds of coming across one particular vehicle.

About as high as winning a lottery on the same day you find a four-leaf clover and get struck by lightning.

Still, it was an offer to help, and keeping her close would also keep her safe.

“I think that might be helpful,” he said, slapping his knee as if it were the best idea in the world.

“I’m sure we can come up with some ideas on how to narrow the search.

I have no doubt you’ve learned things you don’t even realize you know.

That’s where I come in. A good detective has instincts about which are the right questions to ask.

In the meantime I’m going to introduce you to my wife, and she’ll get you settled. ”

“In your home?”

He looked her square in the eye. “You’ve placed your trust in me, Hanna. It would be dishonorable of me not to afford you the same courtesy.”

“But…you’re a gentleman. I’m nothing. A nobody.”

“And that is the last time you will ever think of yourself like that.” He stood, extending a hand. “Come on.”

Hanna looked up at this tall, attractive stranger who made her feel comfortable despite not knowing anything about him. He had charm, but it was no grift. He really was a gentleman. She held up her hand and he helped her to her feet. “Okay.”