Page 3 of Johan. (Van Den Bosch #8)
Johan
I'm back in Cambridge, in the quiet sanctuary of my apartment, the gentle hum of my computer a steady soundtrack as I organize my lecture notes. The evening has wrapped the city in a cool embrace, and the calm before the academic storm of tomorrow's lectures is both welcome and necessary.
My fingers hover over the keyboard. Amelia? The implications of that name, tangled as it is with hidden secrets, tighten my chest. I quickly type back, I can't meet you . It's the safest response, the responsible one, given the delicate threads of my engagement with Astrid.
Hannah’s reply comes swiftly: I know who has her research files .
Sitting back in my chair, I let the reality of her words sink in.
Someone who knows about the research files came into my office and stole them, files that could change everything.
The importance of this information can’t be underestimated, not just for academic curiosity but for the tangled web of personal and professional stakes involved.
I need to see her, to talk to her in person, but how?
As I ponder our options, my mind races through possible meeting spots.
Each one presents its own risks, too public or too easily monitored.
The usual haunts—places laden with memories of earlier, simpler times together—immediately spring to mind.
Yet each is swiftly dismissed under the weight of our current predicament.
The idea of meeting at my apartment, once a haven for long, uninterrupted conversations, now seems fraught with danger.
The proximity to my professional and social circles makes it a hotspot for unwanted gossip or accidental encounters that could spiral out of control.
Similarly, her dorm, which had always felt like a small sanctuary away from the world, is now out of the question.
The risk of being spotted by someone she knows, someone who might question why I'm there at such a late hour, is too high.
Even at my office, where we've shared countless discussions under the guise of academic interest, poses too great a risk now.
Its corridors, once a labyrinth where our conversations could remain private, are now potentially lined with ears too keen on the whisper of scandal.
Outside, every street corner and every casual stroll through the campus could place us under the watchful gaze of street cameras, capturing footage that could be pieced together by anyone with a vested interest in our movements.
An idea sparks—a secretive, almost forgotten place: the Manuscripts Room at the University’s library.
It's perfect, secluded, and I have the key.
No one visits that room at midnight. Quickly, I send her the address and instructions, my heart starting to beat faster at the thought of seeing Hannah again.
As I prepare to leave for the library, the anticipation builds.
The night is dark, and the streets of Cambridge are quiet, echoing my own mixed emotions.
I find myself both eager and apprehensive.
It’s been two weeks since I've seen Hannah, and under normal circumstances, the prospect of meeting her would fill me with a familiar warmth.
But tonight is different. The shadows that accompany our meeting add weight to my steps.
The thrill of reconnecting is tangled with a knot of guilt for dragging her deeper into this complex situation.
I'm aware of how much I've missed her and how much I need to see her, yet I'm also acutely conscious of the potential consequences of our reunion.
This isn't just a simple catch-up; it's a meeting that could have far-reaching implications for both of us.
At midnight, the library is a cathedral of shadows, the hushed sounds of my footsteps echoing softly as I make my way through.
I spot Hannah sitting at one of the tables and pretending to be absorbed in her studies, a facade for any stray onlookers.
As I pass her, our eyes meet briefly, a silent conversation in that fleeting glance.
She understands. I unlock and enter the Manuscripts Room, leaving the door slightly ajar, and wait in the dim light, my heart pounding with a mix of fear and longing.
Minutes stretch like hours until she slips in, closing the door with a soft click behind her and turning the key a few times to lock us in.
Her little fit-and-flare dress swings as she turns to face me.
Our eyes meet immediately, and the world narrows down to the space between us.
Every part of me yearns to close that gap, to pull her close and kiss her, to feel the softness of her lips against mine.
But the bitter taste of my deceit lingers; after everything I've done, after all the lies, how could she possibly want me?
She’s looking at me with an intensity that both reassures and unnerves me.
I want to tell her everything—the truth about this engagement charade, about how trapped I feel.
But the stakes are too high. If Astrid or her father learn of this meeting, they could expose Hannah, who already carries the burden of having stolen two artifacts—a fact only a few of us know.
Swallowing the lump in my throat, I manage to find my voice. “So, what did you find out?” I ask, steering us toward the reason for our clandestine meeting.
Hannah’s face is serious, her voice low as she unfolds the story of her encounter with Amelia. “It’s Ludovic—your future father-in-law. He has the files.”
The words hit me like a physical blow, causing a frown to form. “What? That doesn’t make sense.”
“He kidnapped Amelia 20 years ago when she started to hide key information about her research. She found out he only wanted to find the treasures of the lost city of Ubar for himself,” she tells me, her voice steady despite the weight of her words.
“Not for the sake of archaeological discovery and putting them in a museum.”
“It’s a bold statement to make.” I think for an instant, a question forming in the back of my mind.
“How would Amelia be so sure of Ludovic’s true intentions?
” As I stand here trying to digest the unfolding plot, Hannah notices my confusion deepening.
She leans closer, her voice low, as if carrying a secret she's reluctant to share but knows she must.
“Because,” she begins, her eyes searching mine for understanding. “Amelia and Ludovic… they had an affair. That's why she knew so much about him.”
The revelation feels like a punch to the gut.
An affair. My mind races, images of Mr. Goschen and Amelia, intertwined in both passion and deceit, painting a stark picture of betrayal.
It adds a layer of complexity I hadn't anticipated, making the narrative not just one of greed but also of intimate betrayal.
“So, they were close to each other, emotionally invested,” I murmur, trying to piece together their motivations. “Well, that explains a lot.”
“Yep,” Hannah confirms. “And when she realized his intentions were not about the discovery or the science but purely about the wealth Ubar could bring him, she started to pull away, to hide important findings from him. That's when he took drastic measures.”
The story sends shivers down my spine. It's one thing to hear about corporate espionage or academic competitiveness; it's entirely another to learn about such personal breaches of trust. “And now, he's trying to use me in a similar way,” I say, the realization dawning on me, making me feel both a pawn and an unwitting participant in Ludovic's long game.
Hannah's brow furrows, her eyes lifting to meet mine. “What do you mean?” she asks, her voice steady despite the flicker of concern in her eyes.
“According to my dad, Ludovic’s funding my department and seems particularly interested in doing an expedition to Oman,” I continue, watching her reaction closely.
“I suppose to the region where the lost city of Ubar is rumored to be. It seems too coincidental, doesn’t it?
His sudden generosity aligned precisely with the kind of research that could lead him to what he’s been obsessed with all these years. ”
The implication hangs heavily between us.
The air feels thicker as the pieces start to fall into place in Hannah's mind. “So, he’s using your department as a cover? To get to Ubar under legitimate circumstances?” she asks, the realization dawning on her, painting a clearer picture of Ludovic’s manipulation.
“Most likely,” I confirm, nodding solemnly. “He’s essentially buying his way into my career, into my team. It feels like he’s mirroring what he did with Amelia, but this time, he’s making sure to keep everything appearing legitimate and above board.”
Hannah leans back slightly, absorbing the magnitude of Ludovic's scheming. “This is bigger than we thought,” she murmurs, her eyes narrowing in thought. “Your engagement to Astrid, the funding, it’s all part of a larger plan for him.”
My jaw clenches at the thought. “It seems like he’s plotting to ensure that I don’t stray from the path he’s set for me. By marrying his daughter and leading this expedition, I’d be too entangled to back out.”
Hannah nods, her expression grim. “That’s why we need to find those files. Amelia told me they might be stored on the shelves of his home’s office. I need you to keep him distracted during the engagement party so I can have time to go there and retrieve them.”
Shock hits me at her announcement. “What?
Hannah, you'll be caught! There will be tons of people around.” The thought of her sneaking around Ludovic's office during such a public event sends waves of anxiety crashing over me.
The risk is immense, not just of getting caught but of the severe consequences that could follow.
Hannah meets my gaze, her eyes resolute. “It's the only way. If those files are as important as Amelia thinks, we need them to stop whatever Ludovic is planning.”