Scot sensed something was wrong right away. “Are you okay? What happened?”

Claudia started the car and backed out of their parking space faster than safe driving dictated.

“Claudia, hold it a second. What’s wrong?”

She gripped the steering wheel with all of her might as if somehow it could purge the anger from her body. “Yesterday, the police raided my parents’ farm in Grindelwald.”

“Raided? What happened? Are they okay?”

“Physically, I’m sure they’re fine, but they are probably very shaken. They are much too old for this.”

“For what? Why were the police there?”

“They had an anonymous tip.”

“Tip about what?”

“After a thorough search of the barn, the police found two ADATS.”

“ADATS? As in Swiss antitank missiles?”

“Yes.”

“Let me guess. The serial numbers on the missiles-”

“Match the ones that were stolen from the weapons depot outside Basel.”

“Claudia, I don’t know what to say.”

“I do. Someone is going to pay.”

64

Even though she was stunned, Claudia had still been able to think on her feet. If Deputy Federal Attorney Urs Schnell hoped to have any sort of future with the Bundesanwaltshaft, the last thing he needed was a scandal that would engulf his entire office on his very first big case. Seeing the logic of Claudia’s argument and trusting her promise that she would not go to the press, Schnell agreed to give her forty-eight hours before turning herself in. She assured him she would have answers by then. If only she could assure herself of the same thing.

“I never did like anonymous tips. They always smell bad,” said Scot.

“From what I can tell, I don’t think my boss likes them either and that’s why he agreed to hold everything for forty-eight hours.”

“That and the fact that he doesn’t want a scandal on his hands.”

“There’ll be a scandal, all right, but it won’t involve me or my office. It’s going to have to do with Swiss intelligence and Gerhard Miner.”

“Well, you better do some fast thinking. You’ve only got forty-eight hours.”

“And what about you?”

“Me? I have no idea how much time I have left. You forget, there are people with guns looking for me.”

“I’m not convinced the shooters in the Ice Palace weren’t there for me as well. Someone might have seen me putting your letter back into the post office box after I made a copy of it.”

“Don’t tell me we’re actually going to fight over who’s going to die first?”

“No. We need to be serious. Why were the weapons planted in my family’s barn?”

“That one’s easy. You’re getting too close to the truth.”

“We both are, and the closer we get the less time we have.”

Before driving into the village of Hochdorf, Claudia explained to Scot that she would need to question Miner’s cousin in German. Harvath would not be able to open his mouth, but his silence would make him very intimidating. Kind of a Swiss spin on good cop, bad cop.

Wilhelm Schroeppel Carpentry was not hard to find. Claudia parked her Volkswagen across the street, and they entered the small shop. A set of diminutive cowbells rang above the door, announcing their presence. They looked around the showroom as they waited for the shopkeeper to come up front. Harvath traced his finger across one of the shelves and lifted it up to show Claudia the dust.

“Not much of a housekeeper, I’m afraid,” came a voice in German. Harvath and Claudia looked up to see a tall, handsome man with gray hair and a fading tan appear from the back wearing an apron. Claudia was immediately struck by how much he looked like Miner.

“I have just returned from vacation and haven’t gotten caught up with my housework,” he said.

“Vacation?” said Claudia. “That sounds nice. Where did you go?”

“Southern Europe.”

“Really? Where exactly? I love southern Europe.”

“I was in Greece for a bit.”

“Greece. Now, that’s a nice spot. How long were you gone?”

“A little bit. I’m sorry, but can I help you with something? I’m quite busy today.”

“I hope you can,” said Claudia presenting her credentials. “I’m Claudia Mueller, and this is HansPeter Sampras. We’re from the Bundesanwaltschaft, the investigative affairs division, the Bundespolizei.”

“The Bundespolizei? What do you want with me? I haven’t done anything.”

The man was obviously nervous.

“Let’s talk about your recent vacation,” said Claudia. “Did you go anywhere else besides Greece?”

Schroeppel might have been nervous, but he wasn’t stupid. Why hadn’t Gerhard warned him about the possibility that this might happen? Was it his fault? He had done everything his cousin had told him to, right down to the very last detail except…the package. Miner had told him to mail it when he changed trains in Bern, but Schroeppel had desperately wanted a coffee and to buy some cigarettes. It wasn’t until he had boarded his new train that he realized he had forgotten to mail the package, so he sent it from Hochdorf when he got home.

He’d talk to the Bundespolizei and then call Gerhard and let him know what took place. Gerhard would be able to fix it. He could do anything. There was nothing he needed to worry about; after all, he had been on an official state mission helping his cousin and, in his own small way, his country. The Bundespolizei were just too stupid to know it. They were messing with the wrong family. When he called Gerhard, though, he would conveniently forget to mention that he had not mailed the package from Bern as he was instructed.

“No, just Greece,” he said. “Everything else is too expensive.”

“I see,” replied Claudia. “So, just Greece.”

“Yes.” The man eyed the woman’s silent partner nervously.

“And of course, your passport will show the appropriate stamps for this vacation?”

“May I ask what this is regarding?”

“This is just a routine investigation, Herr Schroeppel. It’s nothing for you to be concerned about. Would you be so kind as to show us your passport?”

“I would be happy to, but first I would like to see your warrant.”

“Surely, Herr Schroeppel, you don’t have anything to hide and don’t wish to complicate our investigation. If you would be so kind as to show us the passport, we will be on our way.”

“I think maybe I would like to call my attorney first.”

“Why would you need an attorney?”

“If the Bundespolizei came to your place of business and asked for your passport without an explanation, wouldn’t you want to call your attorney? I work hard and mind my own affairs. The last time I checked the federal constitution, Switzerland was still a democracy. I don’t much care for you, or your questions. Until such time as you obtain a warrant, I suggest you leave me alone. Good day.”

Claudia was stumped. He had her. What could she do, put a gun to his head and demand to see his passport? She had nothing, but felt the need to leave him with something that would diminish his superior attitude.

“Herr Schroeppel, one more question before I go. You look quite similar to your cousin, Herr Miner. I know him. The resemblance is uncanny. I will be back and I will have a warrant for your passport. While I am at it, I will get one for his too. You were both on vacation lately, and something tells me comparing your two passports is going to be quite interesting. Have a good day.”

She turned and walked out of the shop followed by Harvath, who didn’t take his eyes off the man until they were on the street.

“What was all the passport stuff about?” asked Scot.

“Remember when I said I hoped he would be able to tell us something?”

“Yes.”

“Well, just seeing his face told me a lot. He’s a dead ringer for Miner.”

“What’s that got to do with his passport?”

“Everything. Think about it. How closely do busy passport control officers study passports?”