Chapter Two Thousand Five Hundred Seventy-Five
2nd August 1976
Montreal, Canada
It was like the party had ended and the guests were having trouble getting out the door even as the cleanup had begun when the Olympics ended on the first of August. The whole world had come to Montreal and now, getting a flight out of the city was a matter of waiting your turn. That meant that they were waiting a few days until the flight they had booked to take them home left. Not that Bas objected too much to spending an extra few days in Canada if going to see a movie with Henriette was something he got to do in the meantime. Things had gotten better at the Blackwood house since Mrs. Blackwood had locked herself in her bedroom and had only allowed her husband and housekeeper to speak with her. Marie, who actually lived there, said that this was probably the best outcome for everyone. Bas figured he would never understand the dynamic of that household.
Bas considered everything else that had happened over the past couple weeks as he walked down a pleasant tree-shaded suburban street. It was a summer weekday so other than the sound of children playing in the nearby park, distant traffic, and the buzzing of insects it was quiet. To Bas it should hardly be a surprise that it had turned out that Niko was incorrect about a few things. His mother had told him many times you love people because they are imperfect, not in spite of that and Niko was not perfect. It had turned out that Henriette wasn’t impressed by the Silver Medal that Bas had gotten, not in the least. He also didn’t understand Niko’s problem with Bruce Jenner. Sure, it had turned out that the American had beaten out Bas on points, but it was the same as what had happened to Niko, Bas was simply going against someone who did better than him that day. Hardly something to get sore over. Niko had basically implied just what he thought about Jenner a few times until Bas had told him to drop it already. While he liked his best friend’s loyalty, it wasn’t helpful.
The was also the weird sort of reaction that had happened when word got out that despite Sophie having brought a half-dozen bicycles to the Olympics, the one she had ridden to win a Gold Medal was generic, the frame bought from a wholesaler back in Berlin, Sophie suspected that it was originally been made by Brennabor but wasn’t really sure and comprised of parts from many of different sources with her using whatever was on hand that worked. Her other bicycles were of similar provenance. Bas understood that the bicycle manufacturers were hoping that they would find their name attached to her ride and had been sorely disappointed. Strangely, the answer was both yes and no. With frames by Diamant, Brennabor, or Rose, along with parts made mostly in Germany, Italy, or Japan.
Knocking on the door of the Lane house, Bas saw that the housekeeper seemed happy as she let him in. The house had an open floorplan where the kitchen and parlor, living room here Bas corrected himself, were one big room with a vaulted ceiling. The formal dining room was beyond, but only separated by a set of French doors. To Bas’ right was Robert Lane’s home office and Bas could feel Bert’s eyes on him as he stood there awkwardly.
On Bert’s desk was an open folder with a pile of photographs, the one on top was of what looked like a dozen rangy looking men lying face down on a road somewhere with their hands cuffed behind their backs. Bert himself was signing several official looking forms before he looked up and saw Bas. Closing the folder and putting into a drawer of his desk, Bas heard Bert look the drawer before getting up. That was in keeping with something that his father had warned him about; that Robert Lane was not what he seemed and not underestimate him for a second.
“Pleased to see you again Sabastian” Bert said mildly as he shook Bas’ hand. “Henni told me to tell you that she is going to be down in a bit. That gives us a moment to talk.”
There was a story that Manny had told Niko and Bas about how Suse Rosa’s father had threatened to drive Panzers over him if he took advantage of his daughter. General von Knispel could make that happen too and no one would say word about it afterwards. Bas really didn’t want this to be one of those moments. Glancing up at the framed medals from Bert’s career in the Canadian Army, Bas could see that he had received most of the medals for bravery and service available to an Officer in the British Commonwealth as well as several from Allied countries. That was including the highly recognizable Knights Cross of the Iron Cross which was often given to Foreign Officers and Enlisted Ranks in the place of Royal House Orders because it sidestepped the issues of Social Class and Politics. There were campaign medals from the Soviet War, South Africa, Mexico, and Korea too. Henriette’s understanding was that he was retired and currently sold insurance. Those Medals and Orders told a different story. Someone like that never really retired, much less worked a pedestrian job in an office somewhere.
“My mother told me that that I should give Henriette the upmost respect” Bas replied. His mother had actually told him that because Henriette was a single mother, she would do what was best for Alice and Bas would have to respect that or else he would be given cause to instantly regret it.
“Good advice” Bert said, “You would be wise to remember it.”