The Armenia Caper Read Online Free PDF Page A

designate in government for whom they were destined?  He offered little other than saying the designated recipient has gone missing. The thinking was they took the diamonds and simply melted away. The Armenian police have been attempting to locate the party without success but hinted at where they thought he might be.
     
    His words suggested Moscow. Artem on the other hand, knowing Moscow did not feel that was the case. He believed the person was still in Yerevan likely hidden by family.
     
    To me it did not matter I needed to come up with an answer as my time in Yerevan was winding down quickly.  I had been given little latitude to work and time wise an almost impossible framework.
     
    I reached into my case and gingerly handed the weapon I had inherited to the Secret Police representative. He was surprised and of course wanted to know how I had come by it. I told him the night before somebody thought me important enough to threaten me but in the process they lost heart and gave me their weapon. The man laughed and laughed until he coughed uncontrollably. Artem looked at me shaking his head and asked me if I was Armenian. When I said no he said I should have been. It was his way of saying I was okay.
    Somebody was still out there attempting to intimidate me and get me on my way out of town. Somebody wanted the diamond caper to be forgotten. The Israelis were losing patience and felt betrayed by everyone.
     
    Clearly there had to be an end game. Just how would show itself in mysterious ways.

Chapter 13
    Jazz Heals All
    Two more days passed with little progress. Artem determined I should be entertained by an Armenian family while in the country. We agreed on the evening and he took me back to his house. Artem was not a normal resident of Yerevan. We trucked on to some frightening roads that brought us to a hilly area and his home. It really was far more like a small castle. Gated, ornate, and stunning. Inside it was hard not to get lost so I stayed in the main living room zone. Two large screen televisions, massive stereo system, and concert piano.  The chandelier was to the extreme. Artem’s wife was Russian, articulate, but removed. There were little social skills displayed I had to think Artem bringing me back to the house was not with her blessing. The evening was short but telling. It said Artem was nobody to mess with. Somehow he had to be part of the intrigue in a larger way. Then again.
     
    I wanted to catch up to Osanna but had no idea where to find her, or even call her. Was she engaged or married? It wouldn’t make a difference to the work I am sure but knowing somebody better is just a good thing. Unfortunately Osanna insured a barrier, other than she did enjoy jazz and good red wine.
     
    She apparently could be found most nights entertaining herself at one of the incredibly good jazz bars in Yerevan. The city had a strong music program in one of the Universities. There were extremely skilled musicians but no work for them. Many left the country to opportunities elsewhere but those left behind worked hard to showcase their skills in and around Yerevan for meager returns.
     
    The jazz clubs were simply outstanding and plentiful. Malkhas was considered the premium standard with one of Armenia’s most celebrated Jazz musicians Levon Malkahsyn the owner. He would invite in students of jazz and play sets with them late into the evenings. Osanna was a patron of all music places, especially Malkhas. By the crowd so was everyone else.
     
    I would start visiting the jazz bars early afternoon and into the evening wondering if I would find her rolling a tall red wine in her glass. Luck held and sure enough there she was huddled up against the cool room nursing her wine. Osanna saw me and smiled through her broken face. Malkhas captured her heart once again. The music being stellar. The food mixed. The drinks creative. We stuck to good wine.
    The direct question was how exactly did Osanna fit into this other than