Chapter 22 Chapter 21

It's snowing right now, wet and cold snow, the kind of snow that happens in the Northwest when it's cold enough for snow to fall.I just got back to the keyboard from a cold outdoor trip, and I went over to the boathouse to look at the old mahogany speedboat, a 1947 Chris Craft luxury motorboat, seventeen feet long, Ninety-five horsepower, I filled the tank with a fifty-five-gallon oil drum attached to the hand pump, the key was in the engine igniter, and I started the motorboat.After a sound of starting, the engine ran smoothly, and the houseboat was filled with blue smoke that smelled like fuel.Another thing I did was to hide my pistol under the driver's seat cushion.What are my plans?Actually no, I am prepared for any unexpected situation.If you expect a group of armed men to visit and you have your own weapons, you must fire as soon as they arrive, because if you don't, they will take your weapons away.Another way is to hide your weapon and hope to have it when you need it.I wasn't going to engage in a firefight with an unknown number of thugs, so I hid my weapon.Not sure if the snow will affect my visitors.

Going back to this story I'm documenting, I think I'm almost done because the past and the present are about to meet: I waited a few days after I spoke to Quesetti in Zurich, not knowing what to do with the time, I I can't really remember what I did, except one day I called Emma several times to reassure her that things were really going well, and then asked her if she had heard from the kidnappers.Yes, she has received it. Every morning, there will be a video in the email box, showing the carefree Nicole and Imogen. Imogen's smile seems to hide a secret joke, together with the Newspapers, their messages are from both of them together, always the same: Hi Mommy, we're fine, don't worry, see you later.Then the picture goes dark.No warning, no threat, no clue as to who they were taken from or where they were hiding.Other than that, there wasn't much to talk about between the two of us, and I'm sure we were both happy to end the conversation.

Then Quesetti called and said they did find it, and then I waited for a day, and I left at least six messages that day to my brother Paul and my sister, and my sister never heard back, but my brother called back that night. I asked where he was and he said he was with Emma in Zurich and updated me on the progress of his project.He said that the next morning, the air express would send a package to my house, which contained the things I needed, and then I asked him again, did he find out who the other group of people besides Shafnov was? No, but he thinks it should be related to the people who committed major art robberies in Europe.This group of people is dedicated to stealing paintings by masters such as Titian or Rembrandt, and selling them to corrupt rich people for collection.I said I thought those people were figments made up by dime-fiction writers.He assured me otherwise, that evil forces were involved, and that his plans were the only way he could think of to get us out of their clutches.I feel like he has something to hide from me, but I don't have the leverage to get him to confess, but maybe it's just my innate delusion about my family.

The next day, I received an international express package from Paul. Later, Omar called from the airport to say that Quesetti had disembarked. An hour later, Quesetti came into my house and handed the things to me.Of course I ordered Omar to be armed and stare at him like a hawk from Quesetti as soon as he left the customs, but I still don't know if I could do it if it was me, hand over a title Undecided, and he thinks that something worth at least tens of millions is just for two children he doesn't know at all, but he is obviously a noble person, and he is completely a model for people like me to be ashamed of.I can't like him, and it makes me look bad to say it, but he's a fool, like a lot of his kind, this Caroline.Lori obviously drained him.Turns out she's been Shavnov's minion all along, and I'm actually not that surprised.

Not long after Quesetti left, my phone rang, and it was Shavnov, who congratulated me on finding a great cultural treasure, and then told me he would come to take it soon.I asked him about my child's disappearance and there was a long silence on the other end of the line before he said: Jack, you keep accusing me of kidnapping everyone in your life and I've told you in good faith I'm not doing it This kind of thing, this topic has become very boring, you know? But, you have to understand, because this thing is the condition for the kidnappers to release my child, if the child is not in your hands, I cannot give you the manuscript.

He said: Jack, believe me, I sympathize with you from the bottom of my heart, and I am happy to help you as much as I can, but this should not affect our business relationship. My property, so the manuscript is also my property. I believe you will have a hard time advocating this argument in court. There was another long silence, and then he said, a few decibels lower than usual: So you want me in court?After finishing speaking, there was a gloomy sneer, maybe, I should let you go to court. Well, our country does have laws now, or rather, there used to be laws, unlike your home country, anyway, I will not

But, Jack, listen to me: you'll do as I tell you, and you'll deliver. What else?Are you looking for someone outside to convince me? No, said Shafnoff, the volume was so low that I had to struggle to hear it, and I'm sure I'll settle it in private. After this unpleasant conversation ended, I was at a loss.What should I do next?I think I've regressed to the point where my mom just committed suicide, when I was completely alone, and the most important difference today is that I'm rich now.They say love gets you through when you don't have money better than money gets you through when you don't have love.However, I found that this statement is not entirely correct.I want Omar to come over and protect the manuscript with his little automatic, he loves that kind of mission, and all the little tricks he wants to plot to kill the bad guys.Afterwards, I went for a walk, had a drink, and had lunch at a place I frequented on West Broadway.Walking alone helps my head clear.While downtown Manhattan has recently become a bustling boutique district, certain neighborhoods can be pretty deserted, especially on cold non-weekend hours.I was walking east on Franklin Street, and a white stretch Cadillac with blacked-out, ugly-looking windows slid past me, toward the edge of the sidewalk in front of me, and stopped.The door on the sidewalk side popped open and a huge guy got out of the car and opened the rear door and pointed to the open door and I tried to get around him but he moved a little bit in my way, Then he took out a . 22 long-handled semi-automatic pistol from the outer pocket of his leather jacket, and gestured harder with the gun.My brother told me to always be on the lookout for a long-handled semi-automatic pistol, it's a small but big advertisement for the wielder's ability to, say, hit you with extreme precision if necessary Between the brows, and this guy can knock off your toes if you don't do what he tells you to do.The man's face looked intelligent, and his expression seemed slightly bored, but looked efficient and professional, with large, unforgiving eyes like a seal's.I immediately felt that the gangster in front of me was completely different from the ones I had encountered before, and was of a higher level.I got in the car.

There are several dark-skinned, well-haired people sitting in this stretched limousine, with typical smart-witted, wickedly confident expressions on their faces.At the rear of the car, there are semi-circular seats near the sidewalk door, as well as a bar, stereo and TV. They are placed just so that the big boss sitting on the farthest sofa can control them at will.I slid into the car and the shooter got in next to me, and I sat right in front of the big boss. where are theyI asked. Is that how you greet your dad?he answered.where are theyHow are you?Dad, how nice to meet you? You kidnapped my child, your grandchildren, and you still expect me to be filial?

He showed a displeased expression and waved his hand. I know what this means very well, indicating to go away.What are you talking about?Kidnap?I'm their grandpa, can't I take them on a little trip? Don't tell them where their parents are going? I send beautiful videos to her every day, have you seen them?Do you think they look like damn kidnapped?Believe me, they both couldn't be happier. Oh, memories from the past come flooding back, I sat there gasping for breath in frustration, the way I gasped when I was a kid and saw how easily my father made up ingenious and self-justifying excuses in front of his wife and kids .The fabric of truth shimmers and fades into the flow of his words, and as a result, we always feel as if we're the ones at fault.Honest readers who have read this record up to this point have reason to think that I am a heartless selfish man, but here is my master sitting before me, and I can't even tie his shoelaces enough in this pathetic realm grid.A completely self-centered life does him good, at eighty years old, he looks ten years younger than he is, he's had some plastic implants, maybe a knife around the eyes, rich old man on his face With his oily and sun-tanned complexion, he seemed strong enough to last another decade of rotten life.

So, where are they enjoying their incredibly happy lives?I asked, barely recognizing my own voice, my throat tightening, my head rumbling, redness starting to appear around my vision, teeth grinding in my ears.I would have ripped off his head on the spot if I hadn't been afraid of the incoming bullet going through the elbow. Here they are, at my friend's apartment in the East End, Miri with them. Of course, that's why a savvy city kid like Imogen would get into a strange car in Zurich without a fight: the person in the car was not a stranger, but her beloved Aunt Miri. Then I want to meet them.I said.

No problem, you get the manuscript, we drive a little bit, and then we go to see the kid, and everything is fine. What happens if you don't?Are they no longer terribly happy?Are you going to chop them up? He sighed exaggeratedly and said something in a language I don't know, Hebrew I guess, and all the gangsters laughed.He said to me: Don't be stupid, I won't hurt anyone, but you know that you want to get the manuscript for me, so why are you making trouble with me? What about Shavnov?He thinks things belong to him. His hand shook again. Shavnov was a fool, just a small loan shark who wanted to think he was great.He raised his voice and said to the driver, Misha, let's go. The car leaves the edge of the sidewalk smoothly. Where are we going?I asked. Go to your house and get that thing, or where do you think you are going? don't want.I said. don't want?What do you mean no? I just said it.Why should I give it to you?And how the hell did you get in there? He rolled his eyes, then leaned back in his chair, clasped his hands on his stomach, and looked at me with his dark eyes (like mine!) with amused disdain.I think back to my childhood and it was pretty much his usual look.Jack, your problem is, you have my mouth and your mother's head, which is not a good combination. Just go and die! Another good example, you're sitting in an enemy's car, and here are three guys who have the ability to gouge your eyeball out with their thumbs, which is easier than picking your nose, and you're cursing each other?Dare to scold me?But since it's your father, I won't be angry with you, let me explain the current situation to you.Well, I am in Tel Aviv, Israel, and I am semi-retired, but I am still interested. If there is a good deal, I may participate. I have a lot of connections.Shafnov talked about a big deal in Israel three or four months ago, saying that he had clues to the great treasure of the century, but he didn't say what it was, people thought he was talking about gold, some artwork or something, because He contacted people who deal with this kind of thing.I was curious, so when I ran into Miri later, I asked her old buddy Shafnov what she was doing, and she told me everything about Shafnov, Bustrow, and Shakespeare manuscripts up.Of course, Bustrow was dead by then.I don't know why Bustrow died Shafnov thought that Buszrow had brought something back from England, but he refused to hand it over. Yes, that was the problem with Shavnoff, Izzy said, he was too quick to think, so he set out to kill whoever had the best leads.All in all, Mi Rui told me that you were involved, and you had documents that pointed out the way to find things, so I consulted with someone and set up a small group to monitor your and Shafnov's plans to see if we Can get a little bit of an advantage, and then it looks like you're with this Italian guy, his name Quesetti. Yep, that's him, it looks like you guys have the best leads, so we're starting to track you down So the people who robbed me at the door of my apartment were your men, not Shafnov's men?Is it your men who broke into Quesetti's house and made me kill two people? He shrugged, designed by the relevant people of our little group, I must admit that cheap is not good, this damn city is full of Russian gangsters, don't know what is good or bad.Having said that, if you want to play some tricks, the people present are not to be underestimated. But, before that, you sent someone to pretend to be Bustrow's niece, and she stole the manuscript I got from Bustrow. I don't know about this. I studied his expression, no one is a better liar than my dad, but his bewildered expression seemed genuine. Forget it, I said, so the people following us in Europe are your men? I have no horses, Jack, remember?Only partners, I have nothing to do with any rough scandal, never have, never will. Where did these eye-gouging guys in the car come from? They are subordinates of others, and you don’t need to know their names. As I told you, Israelis and Europeans are a group.Shafnov proposed a simple deal. If he gets it, we will be responsible for confirming the thorough identification. Someone from Shafnov will help him prove that the item is legal, and then we agree to buy it from him. He asked Ten million, that thing might be worth a hundred million, or a hundred and fifty million, who knows? But you're going to skip Shavnoff and just grab the stuff, right? Oh, you're getting smarter.Of course, if the time comes, we want to grab it.100 million yuan is 100 million yuan, why should we give that dirty embryo? Then why did they send you?I thought you didn't do these nasty things? Because if the target might be worth 150 million, they need honest people to be there. you?honest? He let out another dramatic sigh, which was his specialty.Yes, that's me.Tell me, barrister, have you ever wondered why I'm still alive?I'll tell you why, because I've been in this business for almost sixty years, and I've handled thousands of dollars, almost all of it unrecorded cash, and I've never taken a dime from it.If I, Big Bill Izzy, say the numbers fit, it's all right; if he says they don't, somebody's going to suffer.There are a lot of villains in this business who will put a knife in your neck just to get your shoes.So don't scoff at me! Oh, sorry, I didn't catch that: you have an excellent reputation among the scum of humanity.You abandoned us, you scum! Oh, don't you?The only difference between us is that you ditched your family because you couldn't stop chasing new women, and I did it so I wouldn't have to spend twenty years in jail.Would you be happy to ask you to visit me in prison?If not, how can I support you? You did not support us. No, have you ever been hungry?No place to live?No warm bed to sleep in?Miss your toys and clothes?Do you think her mopping the floor in the hospital is enough to feed you three children? She's not a mopper, she's an administrator. Administrative ghost!She's a floor mop, stupid, she can't even read the New York tabloids, how do you believe she's capable of handling medical papers?Listen, every year on your birthday and Christmas, I send you cards with cash attached, and every year the card comes back with her writing on it saying no one was found, but the money is gone, and she used Steam unsealed the envelope, took the cash, and mailed it back to me.screw you! I do not believe.I said, my stomach churning and a bitter taste of bile in my throat. You're going to die with a grudge for the rest of your life, and in the meantime, we've arrived at our destination.Go upstairs and get the damn thing, and bye, you never have to see my face again.Ellie, follow him up, don't let him fall on the stairs. When I got out of that car, the anger made my legs go weak, so I faltered.I need to lean against the front door for a while, my hands shaking as I open it.I went inside and Mr. . 2 Second Hand Gun followed me at an unobtrusive distance, which meant long enough for him to shoot me a few times if I tried to do anything.When I got to the door, I coughed a bit. I'm sorry, I told Ellie, I'm a little wheezy, and it happens when I'm not feeling well.He nodded, as if he didn't care, and pointed to the lock.I opened the door and walked in. He followed behind with the usual careful distance, and then Omar hit him hard on the head with a dumbbell.It turned out that Omar was hiding behind the door and waiting. The cough I just pretended was a small signal to Omar. who is he?Omar asked me. Israelites.I answer.I knew that such an answer would make Omar hit harder. I had better stop Omar from hurting the man quickly, lest he kick and break the man's ribs. While Omar tied up the man, I went to the filing cabinet to get the Shakespeare manuscript, my laptop, the international courier envelope from Paul, and my German pistol. Boss, what are we going to do now?Omar asked. I don't know, but even if it's just for a fake, now I seem to have to defy Izzy, through the revelations of the past few minutes, to come up with a plan of my own, a plan that has nothing to do with my family.on the roof.I said. There is a peculiarity in this area of ​​the city. As long as one gets on the roof of any building, one can climb over the low railing and walk along the whole street, and then go down the fire escape to the ground. These old factory buildings Many are fire escapes.The doors leading to the roof have sirens because all the door-breakers know this, but this is New York and no one pays attention to the sirens going off. We quickly crossed the roof and climbed down to Van Riker Street, where my dad's car had disappeared and it was easy to drive the Lincoln from my garage from here.In the car I called Mickey.Haas. After I told him what I had, he exclaimed: What are you kidding.I assured him I was not joking, and told him of some recent cryptography, and of Lori and Albert's adventures in Warwickshire. OMG!You mean you found all the spy letters? Yes, and the story is brilliant. Oh man, I'm about to throw up, Jack, you must come to my office right now.I can't believe that you actually have original Shakespeare's never-published plays! It's actually on my lap.But Mitch, I'm in a bit of trouble, remember the gangsters we talked about?Hey, they're after me, and one of them is my father. Come to me now, Jack, I mean it, just drive to my office Mitch, you didn't pay attention to me, these people are following me, and it won't be long before they think I might want to show you, and then they'll find your place, kill us both, and take the stuff. However, this is Hamilton Hall at Columbia University, and it is broad daylight, so we can walk over and put our things in the No, you don't get it, man, listen to me!These are a utterly ruthless bunch with unlimited resources, and will gladly kill everyone in Hamilton Hall to get what they want. you must be joking Why don’t you believe it, but all of this is true, from the moment we speak to the moment you can publicly announce the existence and identification results of the work, we have no defense against these people. Maybe I said something that had a similar effect, I remember Mitch making a lot of noise on the phone, cursing and screaming because he couldn't see the stack of papers right away.He acted quite realistically, more than I expected from him, and I always thought that between the two of us, I was the one who could act.I told him my plan: I'm going to get a four-wheel drive and go to his house in Lake Henry, I've been there a few times, I know the way and where his keys are hidden, after a while, maybe In a few days, he could join me and review the materials, including the cipher letters and script scripts in my laptop, give some comments, and take ink and paper samples for laboratory testing.When it's done, if it's authentic, we can drive to another city, maybe Boston, and hold a press conference.He agreed to my plan, as I expected.Before I hung up I made him swear on Shakespeare that he would never tell anyone where I was, or what we were planning.As soon as I finished talking with him, I called an unfamiliar rental car company near Broadway and Waverly Streets, and rented the minivan I had mentioned earlier.In less than an hour, I was driving north in the Hudson Valley in a comfortable cart. So now that I'm here, maybe it's time for a summary, but what should I do?Unlike Brace Godou, I am modern and therefore farther from the moral truth than he is, and I am still disturbed by my meeting with my father.Could what he said be true?Who can I ask?If you can’t ask my siblings, Mi Rui won’t know, and if the truth will come back to bite her, she won’t tell; and Paul, if the past I know is completely different, what should I do?What if I'm a fictional character who keeps accepting lies for other people's purposes, or for no purpose at all?Or for some kinky pastime?This feeling of unreality was exacerbated by the fact that I was alone now and had no social role to play.It drives me crazy.But then again, if a person feels like he's going crazy, it's a sign that he's not, because if you're really crazy, everything makes sense. Once you start acknowledging fabricated memories, where is the basis of fact?When I think about this, I have to think of Emma.As far as I know, Emmarie has never told a major lie in her life, and of course she might have lied to the Gestapo that someone wasn't with her in order to save someone's life.But the truth is, if you lie to someone consistently, that person doesn't seem to serve as a basis for the truth of your life.This is the pattern hidden in the moral universe, so I, in a lost state, can only create more illusions.I'm a lawyer, and lawyers are just people hired to make up stories.In court, my story will be compared with the story fabricated by the opposing lawyer, and the judge or jury will decide which side is more illusory and closer to the illusion of the world constructed in their heads, and then decide which side is reasonable, and so on Justice is served.And in my private life, I will continue to dream of having someone to accompany me to act out the dreary novel of self-existence, such as Miranda, as the most satisfying ultimate companion (I still miss her so much, long for her, long for that vision) , and looking for Mickey.Haas plays Best Friend. Well, in the middle of my rambling story, my sister just called, and the phone reception is fine, because there's a base station on the ground, artfully painted to look like the trunk of a pine tree.I'm going to tell you now how the plan failed.My father hid her and the kids in an apartment that only he knew about, she just wanted to go back to her apartment to get some clothes and something, maybe Botox, and she was out with the kids, Because they were too bored to be locked in.Needless to say, Shavnov's men were there waiting for her, so what had been a fake kidnapping was now a real kidnapping.This happened early this morning. I didn't expect this part, but I did expect the various people involved in the brawling incident in Bryce to arrive in no time.Mitch will come because he wants to pull off the final piece of his great con, but he won't come alone.For the record, I try to recall when I first learned that Mitch was the middleman we were talking about, the connection between Bustrow and Shafnoff.The human mind pieced together fragments of news at its own pace, and suddenly realized.I really can't imagine why I can't tell at a glance, who else could it be?Maybe it should be in Oliver.March told us how Mickey treated poor Boothrow back then?Or maybe it was me who learned that Schaffnoff was a loan shark who profited so much after the market crashed that he specialized in lending money to rich assholes who suddenly couldn't turn around, and didn't Mitch just happen to be a rich asshole in financial trouble?Why didn't I think of it before?Of course, because I imagined him to be my best friend, my confidant. I must have subconsciously known something after my meeting with Buskow the Forger, and there was only one person around me who was capable of hiring him to assist in the planning of this deception.The world's leading Shakespeare expert, the only one who has a relationship with Shavnoff, who has a relationship with Bustrow, and who has a relationship with jackass Jack.People connected with Mishkin. He's going to take millions of dollars from a gang of jewish thugs in no time, and I don't think I'll be able to stop him.In a strange way, he was like my father: if Izzy said the numbers were right, no one doubted him; and when Mitch said it was Shakespeare, it was the same. The question is, why should I go to his country home when I have tons of money to arrange and thousands of anonymous and untraceable places?Because I'm tired of all this and I need authenticity.I don't really care if they kill me, but I do want to find the truth of life before I die.There's another reason, which I've only recently come to appreciate: the way Miranda looks, her hair, her clothes, her entire appearance is designed as best she can when I first met my wife.This is where I was fooled.Who would have known what the girls of that distant age looked like?Who has seen her countless times in the past?Who has heard me say countless times what places about her attract me?Of course it's my best friend.God, this is so corny.Any not-so-intelligent reader would have seen it before I did, but isn't nature like this?Don't we all see other people's secrets before our own?And our brothers can clearly see our own secrets.Yes, good old Mickey set me up, and god help me, I hope his revenge plan includes showing up with Miranda.I hope to see her again.