Page 36 of The Amsterdam Enigma (The Continental Capers of Melody Chesterton #3)
They searched every inch of the royal box, but found nothing except some mouse droppings.
Even though they hadn’t expected to find the bomb so easily or in the royal box, it was still frustrating.
Rat took out his pocket watch, which he had tucked into his jacket pocket, as it was far too valuable to be owned by a theatre worker.
It was now nearly half-past two. If they hoped to find evidence of a bombing and then convince Sir Alan of it, they’d better hope they discovered something soon.
Rat cracked the door to the box to check if anyone was in the corridor. It was empty, so he and Alessandro silently slipped out, and Rat locked the door again. They looked along the hallway in both directions. Where would it make sense to leave a bomb to ensure maximum damage to the royal box?
They began examining the doorways leading off the corridor.
Most opened into other boxes. However, one, on the opposite side of the corridor, was locked.
Rat quickly picked the lock. The door opened onto what appeared to be a small, opulent drawing room.
There were silk-covered couches and chairs, as well as paintings all around the walls.
As Alessandro examined the paintings, he said, “I believe there is a painting of every Dutch king or queen going back years. I think this is the royal reception area.”
Rat had no idea what such a thing was, so Alessandro explained.
“The Queen and her guests will be shown in here when they arrive at the theatre. There will also be refreshments laid out during the intermissions.” As Rat looked around, this made sense.
He could see that some champagne flutes were already on a table in the corner.
As Rat looked at the cloth-covered table, he realised he could see something beneath it, barely visible under the cloth. He approached and pulled back the cloth, revealing a crate. Then the men pulled out the crate, which clearly showed the ZKL-3 markings.
“This is it!” Rat exclaimed. Just as he was about to open the crate to inspect it, they heard a noise. Both men froze; was it the porter returning? It appeared to be, but he wasn’t alone this time. He had two burly looking men with him.
Rat couldn’t understand what was said, but from the expressions on the men’s faces and the tone of voice they used, this wasn’t good.
They spoke to Alessandro in Dutch, and he replied.
He shrugged his shoulders, spread his hands, and seemed to be doing his best impersonation of a workman, just doing what he was told to do.
The three burly men conferred briefly, and then one of them grabbed Rat by his jacket while the other seized Alessandro. Rat’s first instinct was to try to shake the man’s hand off and run, or fight. However, a quick shake of Alessandro’s head told him not to attempt this.
Rat and Alessandro hadn’t been able to get much information from the men who had taken them.
Now, they were led into an office that looked as if it probably belonged to the company director.
There was a desk with two chairs in front of it.
Sitting behind the desk was a harried-looking man who had one pair of spectacles on top of his head, and another perched on the bridge of his nose.
He had little hair on his head, but what little there was seemed to be standing up in every direction.
The man looked up as they were brought into the room. He said something in Dutch, and one man addressed him as Directeur. Then, the man turned to Alessandro and Rat and said something in Dutch.
Would Alessandro continue pretending that they were workers? Rat wondered. Of course, the director of the company would know they didn’t work for him. Was it worth trying to convince him they were part of the German company? It seemed not, as Alessandro appeared to be claiming they were British.
“So, what are two Englishmen doing sneaking around my theatre, pretending to be workers?” the director asked in flawless English.
Alessandro glanced briefly at Rat before saying, “We have reason to believe that a bomb is going to be detonated tonight in this theatre.”
While Rat was surprised that Alessandro had been so blunt, he understood that they had little choice but to hope the shock of this news would grab the director’s attention.
It seemed to have worked. The director sat back in his chair and pushed the second pair of glasses up onto his head to join the pair already there.
In an incredulous tone, he said, “A bomb you say? And who is going to be detonating this bomb?”
“Germany,” Rat replied, before considering what he was saying.
The director laughed sardonically. “So, you expect me to believe that Germany is planning to blow up its own theatre company tonight? Why would they do that?”
What was a credible reason? While the false flag plot made sense if you knew the entire backstory, it was hardly suitable for them to reveal that to some random Dutchman.
“It doesn’t matter if you believe us. We found the crate containing the bomb parts upstairs in the room these men found us in. Go and see for yourself,” Rat explained. He then briefly described where they had found it in the room.
The director said something to one of the men who’d escorted them down. He left the room, presumably to find the crate, closing the door behind him.
“While we wait for Johan to return, why don’t you tell me how you came to know about this so-called bomb?”
Rat returned Alessandro’s glance; he didn’t want to be the one to decide what should be revealed. He suspected Alessandro had far more experience dealing with this sort of situation than he did.
Instead of answering that question, Alessandro said, “Please contact the British Envoy, Sir Alan Vanden-Bempde-Johnstone, who heads up the British legation. I can give you the address.”
In a voice that dripped with sarcasm, the director asked, “And will this Sir Alan fellow tell me why two Englishmen are looking for a bomb in my theatre?” When neither man answered, he continued, “Well, let us take things one step at a time and see what Johan finds.”
Five minutes later, Johan returned. While Rat couldn’t understand what he said, the anxious look on Alessandro’s face spoke volumes.
“There is no crate and certainly no bomb,” the director said caustically, confirming Rat’s worst fears: someone had taken the bomb parts and might be constructing it already. How had they managed to get the crate out in the short time since he and Alessandro had been discovered in the room?
He voiced his fears to the director, who laughed. “So, someone was watching out and as soon as they saw Johan and Pieter march you out of the royal reception room, they ran in and moved this crate? How convenient.”
“Why would we lie about this?” Rat pleaded.
Alessandro appeared as stunned by this turn of events as Rat.
“Please, contact Sir Alan.” As almost an afterthought, he added, “Directeur, please consider the worst-case scenario if we are correct: we believe the aim is to harm the Dutch Royal Family. If we are mistaken, then you may face a little embarrassment, but if we are right, you are the person who was warned about an assassination attempt on your queen and ignored it.”
This seemed to be persuasive. “Write a note and the address. You seem to believe this Sir Alan will vouch for you, so let us see if he comes when you summon him.”
All Rat and Alessandro could hope was that Sir Alan would, in fact, answer the note.