The Amber Room Page 0,24

foundries were in demand more than ever. Though spawned in Communism, Loring was a tried and true capitalist. His father, Josef, and his grandfather before that had been capitalists. What did he say all the time? All political movements need steel and coal.Loring supplied both, in return for protection, freedom, and a more than a modest return on investment.

The manor suddenly loomed on the horizon. Castle Loukov. A former knight'shrad, the site a formidable headland overshadowing the swift Orlík Stream. Built in the Burgundian-Cistercian style, its earliest construction began in the fifteenth century, but it wasn't finished until the mid-seventeenth century. Triple sedilia and leaf capitals lined the towering walls. Oriels dotted vine-covered ramparts. A clay roof flashed orange in the midday sun.

A fire ravaged the entire complex during World War II, the Nazis confiscating it as a local headquarters, and the Allies finally bombing it. But Josef Loring wrestled back title, allying himself with the Russians who liberated the area on their way to Berlin. After the war the elder Loring resurrected his industrial empire and expanded, ultimately bequeathing everything to Ernst, his only surviving child, a move the government wholly supported.

Clever, industrious men were also always in demand, her employer had said many times.

She downshifted the Porsche to third. The engine groaned, then forced the tires to grab dry pavement. She twisted up the narrow road, the black asphalt surrounded by thick forest, and slowed at the castle's main gate. What once accommodated horse-drawn carriages and deterred aggressors had been widened and paved to easily accept cars.

Loring stood outside in the courtyard, dressed casually, wearing work gloves, apparently tending his spring flowers. He was tall and angular, with a surprisingly flat chest and strong physique for a man in his late seventies. Over the past decade she'd watched the silkened ash blond hair fade to the point of a lackluster gray, a matching goatee carpeting his creased jaw and wrinkled neck. Gardening had always been one of his obsessions. The greenhouses outside the walls were packed with exotic plants from around the world.

"Dobriy den,my dear," Loring called out in Czech.

She parked and exited the Porsche, grabbing her travel bag out of the passenger's seat.

Loring clapped dirt from his gloves and walked over. "Good hunting, I hope?" She withdrew a small cardboard box from the passenger's seat. Neither Customs in

London nor Prague questioned the trinket after she explained that it had been bought at a Westminister Abbey gift shop for less than thirty pounds. She was even able to produce a receipt, since she'd stopped by that very shop on the way to the airport and bought a cheap reproduction, one she trashed at the airport.

Loring yanked off his gloves and lifted the lid, studying the snuffbox in the graying afternoon. "Beautiful," he whispered. "Perfect."

She reached back into her bag and extracted the book.

"What is this?" he asked.

"A surprise."

He returned the gold treasure to the cardboard box, then gingerly cradled the

volume, unfolding the front cover, marveling at the book plate.

"Drahá,you amaze me. What a wonderful bonus."

"I recognized it instantly and thought you'd like it."

"We can certainly sell or trade this. Herr Greimel loves these, and I would very much like a painting he possesses."

"I knew you'd be happy."

"This should make Christian take notice, huh? Quite an unveiling at our next gathering."

"And Franz Fellner."

He shook his head. "Not anymore. I believe now it's Monika. She seems to be taking over everything. Slowly but surely."

"Arrogant bitch."

"True. But she's also no fool. I spoke to her at length recently. A bit impatient and eager. Seems to have inherited her father's spirit, if not his brains. But, who knows? She's young-maybe she'll learn. I'm sure Franz will teach her."

"And what of my benefactor. Any similar thoughts of retirement?"

Loring grinned. "What would I do?"

She gestured to the blossoms. "Garden?"

"Hardly. What we do is so invigorating. Collecting carries such thrills. I am as a child

at Christmas opening packages."

He cradled his two treasures and led her inside his woodworking shop, which consumed the ground floor of a building adjacent to the courtyard. "I received a call from St. Petersburg," he told her. "Christian was in the depository again Monday. In the Commission records. Fellner obviously is not giving up."

"Find anything?"

"Hard to say. The idiot clerk should have gone through the boxes by now, but I doubt he has. Says it will take years. He seems far more interested in getting paid than working. But he was able to see that Knoll discovered a reference to Karol