Page 23 of Denied Access
He did now.
Greta was not as ignorant of her grandfather’s past as the bankerbelieved. Or at the very least, she realized that the man who’d secreted her pieces of chocolate as a child was more than just a financial tycoon. Greta understood Ohlmeyer, which went a long way toward explaining why she understood Rapp.
But perhaps the kiss had a deeper meaning.
Beyond just demonstrating her affection for Rapp, Greta had also communicated the opposite with equal clarity. She loved Ohlmeyer with the entirety of her heart, which meant that if Rapp truly cared for her, he needed to see the old man in the same light. Like it or not, the banker’s problem had just become his. After a final swallow of coffee, Rapp set the ceramic mug neatly on its coaster. Then he turned his attention back to the man seated across from him.
“How about we dispense with the cloak-and-dagger nonsense?”
“Easier said than done, my young friend. Cloak-and-dagger nonsense is the exact reason why I sent a detail of the best Swiss security specialists money could buy to augment my own personal protection team when they recovered my granddaughter.”
Rapp refrained from pointing out that if these men were the best money could buy, Ohlmeyer might want to ask for a refund.
Or at least a discount.
As security details went, the men had performed adequately, but against an operative of Rapp’s caliber, adequate wasn’t enough. And while Rapp was good, perhaps very good, he was not an invincible killing machine. If he had been able to get to Greta, the real person or persons who’d prompted such a response from Ohlmeyer would be able to do the same.
Like it or not, Rapp was in this now.
Biting back another irritation-laced response, Rapp tried a different track. One that he didn’t often employ.
Humility.
“How can I help?”
Ohlmeyer sighed and settled deeper into his seat. “I am not tryingto be obtuse, it’s just that a problem that has been thirty years in the making is not so easily put into words. To reciprocate the simplicity of your question with an equally simple answer—I need you to visit someone and ask him a series of questions.”
“You’re a man of considerable resources, Herr Ohlmeyer,” Rapp said. “Why would you need my help to ask someone questions?”
“The person in question is beyond my reach.”
Rapp studied the banker, waiting for the other shoe to drop.
On the far side of the room, the valet fussed with a stainless-steel monstrosity affixed to the far wall. Steam hissed, milk frothed, and espresso gurgled. Two additional mugs sat within easy reach.
Herr Ohlmeyer was expecting company.
“I wasn’t aware that any place on earth was beyond your reach.”
“The man in question resides in Russia. Moscow to be exact.”
Touché.
While Moscow wasn’t the Arctic Circle, it would definitely qualify as out of reach for a man who’d once gone head-to-head with the KGB during the height of the Cold War.
“Let’s say for argument’s sake that I was able to have a conversation with this man. What would you have me do with him once our question-and-answer session was over?”
“Kill him.”
Though he’d half expected that answer, Rapp was still a little unnerved at Ohlmeyer’s sudden frankness. Moments ago, the conversation had been all subterfuge and innuendo. Now the man he’d known only as a friend of Stan’s and an enabler of clandestine operations was asking him to interrogate and kill someone.
On the other side of the room, the valet was topping off mugs with frothed milk and arranging them on a platter. While he was far from an expert on banking, Rapp understood that the management and movement of large amounts of money did not happen in a vacuum. If something or someone had prompted the Swiss banker to takesuch extraordinary measures to protect his granddaughter, chances were that the threat did not end at his doorstep. Ohlmeyer was a banker, which meant that he had customers.
Customers who would need to be reassured that their investments were still safe.
“I am not a killer for hire,” Rapp said.
“That’s good because I don’t intend to pay you. Think of this as a target of opportunity. A chance to right one of the greatest wrongs ever leveraged against your nation.”
