The Shadow Project. Scott Mariani

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СКАЧАТЬ Steiner is a very private man, and doesn’t tolerate intrusion into his family life. He is notoriously hard to interview, and relatively few people even get to have an audience with him.’

      ‘Sounds like I’m going to meet royalty,’ Ben said.

      ‘In some circles that’s exactly what Maximilian Steiner is,’ Dorenkamp replied. ‘One thing. You may find him cold. Many people do. But that is just his manner, and you shouldn’t be put off by it. I have known him for many years and I can tell you that he’s a good man. Behind the scenes he is a tireless campaigner against violence in all its forms, a staunch opponent of the international arms trade. He donates a vast amount of money each year to support many worthy causes. The fact that he does so anonymously only reflects his desire for privacy.’

      ‘If I’m going to protect him, I need to know everything,’ Ben said. ‘I need total access to every part of his life. I respect his desire for privacy, but there can’t be any secrets.’

      Dorenkamp nodded thoughtfully. ‘Very well. We’ll see what can be done.’

      ‘Tell me about the kidnap attempt,’ Ben said as they walked.

      ‘It happened three weeks ago. Herr Steiner and his wife were on their way to a family wedding in one of the limousines. As they drove, they came across what at first appeared to be an accident. There was a car in the middle of the road, which seemed to have skidded to a halt, blocking the way. Next to the car was a man lying on the ground, apparently injured. A woman was with him, shouting for help as Herr Steiner’s car arrived on the scene.’

      ‘It’s an old ploy,’ Ben said. ‘Exploiting people’s humanity to trap them.’

      ‘Naturally, the Steiners had their driver stop at the scene, in order to help. But in the very next instant, a van suddenly appeared with more men who tried to grab Herr Steiner and drag him inside it.’

      ‘Armed?’

      Dorenkamp nodded gravely. ‘Heavily.’

      ‘Masked?’

      Dorenkamp nodded again.

      ‘How did they get out of it?’

      ‘Purely by good fortune and sheer coincidence,’ Dorenkamp said. ‘There had been a real accident further along the same road, a few kilometres away. It later transpired that the ambulance was already there, attending to the injured. But the police were late arriving on the scene, and happened to appear at the right moment to frighten off the kidnappers.’

      ‘But they didn’t catch any of them.’

      ‘No, they escaped.’

      ‘Did the Steiners and their driver get a good look at the injured man, or the woman who was with him?’

      Dorenkamp shook his head. ‘Sadly not. The injured man was lying face down, and the woman was wearing dark glasses and a headscarf. She had long black hair.’

      ‘Which you can assume to be a wig,’ Ben said. ‘Now, you said they were on their way to a wedding when it happened. How many people knew about their travel plans that day?’

      ‘You are thinking about sources on the inside?’

      Ben nodded.

      ‘It was a high society wedding,’ Dorenkamp said. ‘Well publicised, and the hotel additionally had a guest list.’

      ‘So the information was openly accessible.’

      ‘In any case, the police have already pursued these avenues of inquiry,’ Dorenkamp said.

      ‘Though they haven’t come up with anything, apparently.’

      ‘Not yet.’

      ‘So does anyone have any idea who might have attempted the kidnap?’ Ben asked.

      ‘Herr Steiner has his own theories.’

      ‘Which are?’

      Dorenkamp smiled. ‘To be revealed. He will tell you himself in just a moment.’

      They came to a tall doorway, and Dorenkamp led the way through it and past a broad gilt-framed painting depicting a classical scene with semi-naked nymphs frolicking around Greek ruins. Ben heard one of the men behind him muttering something about nice tits. Again, if Dorenkamp noticed, he made a good show of hiding it.

      ‘Do the Steiners have children?’ Ben asked the PA. ‘I ask because kidnappers will often target other family members, even if it’s only to get to the main person they want.’

      ‘No children,’ Dorenkamp said. ‘There is just him, his wife Silvia and their nephew, Otto Steiner, who is in line to take over the business when Herr Steiner retires.’ He chuckled. ‘Though I find it difficult to imagine that he ever would. Perhaps at the age of ninety-nine, when Otto is nearly seventy himself.’

      ‘Where does Otto live?’ Ben asked. ‘Here, on the estate. He has his own villa within the compound.’

      ‘What about Otto’s parents?’

      ‘Sadly deceased,’ Dorenkamp answered. ‘It was a long time ago. A car accident. Please don’t mention it to Herr Steiner. He was extremely attached to his brother Karl.’

      ‘I won’t say a thing. Now tell me about Mrs Steiner.’

      As he said it, Ben could hear the sound of someone playing the piano from a room somewhere nearby. Someone very good. The piece they were playing was fast and intricate, the kind of thing only a real virtuoso would attempt. It might have been Rachmaninov or Chopin – Ben wasn’t sure.

      ‘You are listening to her,’ Dorenkamp said with a smile. ‘She was once a concert pianist, before Herr Steiner and she were married.’

      ‘What does she do now?’

      Dorenkamp shrugged. ‘She has her music, and he has his work. They spend each day largely in their separate worlds, and they dine together in the evenings when he is not working late or away on business. It is a simple and unobtrusive life they lead, despite their wealth. There isn’t much to say. Frau Steiner tends to remain here on the estate. She has everything she needs.’

      It seemed like a lonely life, Ben thought as they walked on and left the sound of the piano behind them. He followed Dorenkamp up two sweeping flights of stairs to the second floor. The PA stopped outside a grand double doorway. ‘Here we are,’ he said and twisted the ornate bronze knob to push open one of the huge doors.

      Ben followed him inside, and found himself gazing around him at the enormous conference room. Sunlight streamed in through French windows overlooking the estate and the mountainscape in the distance. A massive oak table was surrounded by some thirty buttoned leather chairs. The ceiling was high and ornate, and the walls were lined with arrangements of shields and old swords, from cavalry sabres to fifteenth-century claymores. In between the weaponry displays hung more gilt-framed paintings. Around the edges of the room were display cabinets. Ben wandered over to one of them and bent down to peer through the glass at the old letter inside. The paper was yellowed, the quill-penned handwriting flamboyant. Ben read the signature at the bottom and turned to Dorenkamp. ‘Is this СКАЧАТЬ