3 The Braque Connection (4 page)

“Wait.” I looked around the kitchen. “Where’s Ben?”

“He left soon after the helicopter arrived. He told me to give you his regards.”

I nodded. It was a pity. I had liked Ben and would’ve liked to thank him for his patience. There wasn’t time for pondering on this. I had to get into that helicopter.

It had been a long time since I had needed to practice such unyielding control. Through the short conversation with the pilots, getting into the helicopter and wondering about all the unknown bacteria in this aircraft, I held myself together. Changing focus made it easier to control my stress levels. I observed, questioned, analysed and processed. I noticed sadness flash over Colin’s face as we took off. His safe house had been compromised and would most likely never be used again. The sadness led me to believe that he had valued this specific home.

When turbulence made the flight uncomfortable, I asked the pilots more questions. I learned about all the instruments they were using to keep us safe. Once, the younger pilot lied when I asked about emergency landing statistics. I pointed out what an incompetent liar he was and explained how he could improve that skill. His colleague laughed and gave me the correct statistics. Throughout the whole journey, Colin said very little, watching me with a foreign intensity or looking out the window.

By the time we landed in an empty parking area quite close to my apartment, my muscles were trembling. I believed part of that to be caused by hunger, but mostly this was due to the tension of holding myself up, maintaining my defiant posture. It was exhausting. When Greg, the incompetent liar, opened the door for us to exit the helicopter, I realised that I was clutching Colin’s hand. My fingers were white from the strength of my grip. Consciously, I relaxed my hold and wondered why he had not said anything. I stared at our joined hands.

Colin’s smile was gentle when I looked up at him. Expressions I did not often observe around his eyes now had my full attention. For a few seconds he sat quietly, allowing me to study him. I wanted to ask why I saw pride and respect when he looked at me, but he shook his head. “Let’s go home. We can talk there. The car is waiting for us, but we’re going to have to walk there. Will you be okay walking only in socks or do you want me to carry you?”

Walking across a meadow in Colin’s thick socks had not been too difficult. Nature’s dirt was acceptable to me. A glance at the paving brought information flooding into my mind. Statistics on bacteria and organic matter caused my blinking to increase. I forced my thoughts away from that and looked at Colin.

He was already moving past me to climb out. He stood tall at the door and held out his arms. “In my arms or a ride on my back?”

“Your back.” It would make me feel less weak.

He turned around and presented me with his strong back. I had never been carried on anyone’s back before. I had seen this on television and in parks when parents, usually fathers, carried their tired children to the car after a day of fun. This was a first for me. It took a few tries before I clung onto Colin like a baby monkey. Twice he had to tell me to ease up around his neck, I was choking him.

The pilots found this amusing, but I could not see the humour in this. With every passing second my desperation for the safe haven of my apartment increased. Transferring from Colin’s back to the town car was awkward, only to repeat the exercise when we arrived at the front door of my apartment building. I wouldn’t even get down from Colin’s back when we were in the elevator. I had seen a neighbour’s dog urinate in excitement one day. I shuddered.

“You all right back there?” Colin’s voice vibrated where my chest pressed into his back.

“I will be soon.” One more floor, the hall and I would be in my sanctuary. A soft ping announced that we had arrived, the doors opened and Colin walked to the front door. He let go of one of my legs and lifted his hand to knock, but the door swung open. Vinnie’s large frame filled the door to my apartment. He was wearing his usual combat pants and black T-shirt, stretched over muscles that belonged on a wrestler. Whenever he experienced intense emotions, the long ragged scar down the side of his face became more prominent. Like now.

I expected an outburst filled with expletives, but Vinnie merely stood there staring at us. After two seconds of observing him, I tapped Colin’s shoulder. “Let me down.”

I slid down his back, preparing myself for the next few minutes. In the year that I had known Vinnie, I had discovered that despite his criminal background, his size and demeanour, he was sensitive. Of those I counted to be my friends, he needed the most reassurance. I stepped around Colin and stopped in front of Vinnie. He was ignoring Manny’s irate insistence for him to move out of the way and had his attention solely on me now.

“We’re here, Vinnie.” It had become easier, but I still found friendship difficult. Comforting a friend was not a skill I excelled in. Logic and rationale were my fortes. Reassuring someone wasn’t.

Vinnie didn’t respond verbally to my attempt at reassurance, but his micro-expressions told me everything I needed to know. Our disappearance had affected him deeply. The relief on his face warred with fear and anger. After a year of friendship, I knew what he needed. It came at a great personal cost, but I had learned that friendship meant being selfless even at trying times. I sighed, bracing myself as I stepped closer and opened my arms.

Strong emotions washed over his face before he lifted me and enveloped me in an embrace gentle enough to not cause me too much discomfort. He buried his head in my neck, his whole body trembling. My feet were dangling, my arms loosely draped around his large shoulders. Behind him Manny had grown quiet. I awkwardly patted Vinnie’s shoulder. “I’m okay, Vinnie.”

He shook his head and held me tighter. I looked over his shoulder into my apartment. Manny was standing a few feet behind Vinnie, scowling. He looked even more rumpled than normally. Dark rings under his bloodshot eyes showed that he too had suffered. His unshaven jaw was not the usual lazy one-day stubble. It was a few days’ growth. He looked exhausted.

“Come on, big guy. Let’s go inside.” Colin’s hand rested lightly on Vinnie’s arm and pushed him into my apartment. “Jenny’s been wanting to be in her own place since she woke up.”

Still Vinnie would not let me go. He turned around and took a few steps towards the sitting area to the left. The living area of my loft apartment was one large space, strategically divided into the sitting area to the left of the front door, my library and reading area to the right. Deeper into the apartment, after the reading area, was the kitchen—across from it, the dining area. Vinnie stopped next to one of the two large sofas.

I heard him swallow, and allowed him a few more seconds to compose himself before I would start squirming. My dislike of being touched was not nearly as important as assuring Vinnie that I was here and mostly unharmed. A strong tremor shook his body before he released his hold on me. He lowered me to the ground, but anchored me with his hands on my shoulders.

I was the one studying people, analysing the expressions on their faces. Being on the receiving end of such a scrutiny from Vinnie was a novel experience. I waited him out.

“Jen-girl.” He cleared his throat. Bending slightly at the knees, he peered into my eyes. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

“I will feel much better once I’ve had a shower, but I’m operating just fine, thank you.”

“Did those fuckers hurt you?”

“Yes, but I didn’t feel it.” My half-shrug was unsuccessful. His hand on my shoulder was too heavy. “It hurts a little now, but the bruising will disappear in another few days.”

The scar on the side of his face became pronounced as his lips compressed. “I will get those bastards, Jen-girl.”

“No, you won’t.” Manny stepped closer, but was wise enough to not be within punching distance. “I want you to be in jail, but for some reason Doc likes you, so you will let us do this the right way.” Manny looked at me. “We will get these sons of bitches the legal way and make sure they never see the light of day again.”

I gasped. “You can’t kill them, Manny.”

“I’m not going to kill the… ah. That saying means they will never leave prison, Doc. Not that I will kill them.” The small smile my misunderstanding brought to his face was worth my annoyance at yet again lacking knowledge of common lexicon. He inhaled deeply and let it out on a loud sigh. “I’m glad you’re home, Doc. I’m even glad to see the thief.”

Colin pushed past Manny, purposefully bumping him out the way. He held out his hand to greet Vinnie. My shoulders felt much lighter as Vinnie lifted his hands and used Colin’s outstretched hand to pull him into a man-hug. At least Colin’s height was near enough to Vinnie’s to not necessitate being lifted off the ground. Manny looked at the two friends with disgust curling his top lip.

“Genevieve?”

I turned around to see Phillip and Francine quietly waiting to greet me. They too wore the stress of the last two days on their faces and bodies. Francine was dressed like a supermodel, her exotic looks enhanced by the cream dress and designer jewellery. Her eyes were void of the usual dark eyeliner and mascara she used to draw attention. A few dark stains under her eyes were evidence of tears having washed away her makeup. I liked Francine being my only female friend. She was not overly emotional like most women. Therefore I was taken aback at the fresh tears in her eyes.

“I’m really happy you’re here.” She took a step closer. Uncertainty halted her movements, her need undisguised.

“Oh, for goodness’ sake.” I took a few annoyed steps towards her. “Give me a hug then.”

Relief, but mostly gratefulness drew her mouth and eyes into a smile. Logically I understood people’s need for physical closeness and hugging during times of distress. Practically, it overwhelmed my senses. Francine’s subtle, and undoubtedly expensive, perfume surrounded me as she gave me a strong hug. I had become more accustomed to Vinnie’s embraces and Colin’s romantic affection. Being hugged by a woman was a new experience for me. She was soft, yet strong. I found myself returning the hug. Soon enough she let go of me, wiping at her eyes.

I turned to Phillip. He took both my hands in his and pressed them against his heart. “Don’t ever do this to me again.”

“I didn’t…” My voice was so full of tears I had to stop talking. Phillip was the first person who had faith in me as an individual. My professors had had faith in my academic abilities, others had had faith in my expertise, but it was Phillip who had shown trust in me as a person seven years ago. For no logical reason he had taken me under his care after an accidental meeting in an art gallery. He had given me a job, given me carte blanche to do my job in my own way. He was a father to me.

I swallowed hard, but a few tears rolled down my cheeks. I was not only feeling my own relief at being home, but observing the deep affection and relief on Phillip’s face elicited a fierce emotional response in me. He brought a warm hand to my cheek, gently wiping away tears. “We’ll leave you to shower and eat. Vinnie prepared a cold breakfast for you. We wanted to be here to greet you, but will give you time to regroup. As soon as you are ready, we will meet in the office to debrief. Is that acceptable?”

I nodded, still not confident in my voice.

Of everyone in my apartment, Phillip had known me the longest. It had only been in the last three years that our relationship had moved from strictly professional to a more personal level. In hindsight, I knew it had all been dependent on me. He had given me the time and space to come to him when I was ready. After seven years, he knew me well, but I knew him just as well, if not better. And this was why I knew that he had arranged this welcoming party to be short.

A quick glance at Manny’s discontent confirmed my suspicions. Manny would have wanted to debrief us immediately, Vinnie would’ve wanted to get names to hunt down, and Francine would’ve wanted data to start an immediate online assault. Phillip was the one who knew I needed time to go through my familiar routine, to later meet in a familiar professional setting in order to regain my equilibrium. I squeezed his hands long and hard, knowing he would understand my unending gratitude
.

Chapter FOUR

“Ah, you’re here.” Phillip pushed away from the large, round table and stood up. It was strange to see him in the team room. I usually met with him in his office or he came to my viewing room. He lowered his head, studying me. “Are you refreshed?”

“Yes, thank you.” It was only an hour and fifteen minutes since everyone had left my apartment. I had spent longer than usual under the shower, scrubbing with the strongest soap I had. Colin and I had quickly eaten, not speaking much. Both of us wanted to get to work and solve our mysterious abduction.

“I’ll get Manny.” Francine’s make-up was perfect, no evidence of tears. She winked at me. “He went to make himself that horrid tea with milk.”

When the president had asked us to form a special investigative team, Phillip had not only agreed, but had insisted on his high-end insurance company’s offices housing our activities. Within three weeks he had converted the two rooms next to my specialised viewing room to a large open workspace. Separating my viewing room from our team room were two glass sliding doors that sealed to afford me the soundproof silence I sorely needed on a frequent basis.

In the team room, Phillip had installed a computer system to Francine’s exact specifications. Her work station took up almost as much space as my long desk and the ten computer monitors mounted on the wall above it. Manny had a large desk, overflowing with little pieces of paper. Vinnie had no desk and spent minimal time in the team room. Most of his time was spent socialising with his criminal acquaintances, keeping contact in the hope to find information that could aid us in our investigations.

After three weeks of Colin using the far corner of my desk and leaving his files in my cabinet, I had insisted on him moving to the team room. He had refused and successfully convinced me that sharing a room with Manny for any length of time was not wise. That had resulted in a smaller desk against the wall to the left behind my workspace in the viewing room. Colin had proved to be a quiet worker, not disturbing me when I was analysing footage or doing research. The space he would’ve taken up in the team room now had a dark wooden table with chairs. It was here we had team meetings and this was where Phillip had been waiting for us.

I sat down in my usual seat, hanging my handbag over the back of the chair. I moved with care, every twist of my body reminding me of the numerous bruises marring my torso. Vinnie was already seated, his legs stretched out in front of him. “How’re you doing, Jen-girl?”

“I feel much better, thank you.” I had chosen my outfit deliberately. My summer trousers were light and fitted comfortably around my hips. When I sat down, the material didn’t press against any of the dark bruises. The patterned blouse was dark, but of a light material. The long sleeves hid not only the tattoo, but also the bruises on my arms. Knowing that nobody else would see proof of my abuse made me feel more confident. I had not felt comfortable with Ben’s anger and pity at witnessing the injuries. Vinnie and Manny’s anger would overwhelm me.

Francine came back into the team room, followed by Manny, who looked as tired as before. His stride was purposeful, his eyes set on me. He put his mug of tea down on the table as he stopped next to my chair. “Doc.”

I looked up at the proud man, who was impatient with psychology, seldom understood me, yet treated me with an odd kind of respect. His military training and years in law enforcement had made him less inclined towards emotions and always looking for reasons to imprison Vinnie and Colin. In his late forties, on days like today, when stress became visible around his eyes and his unshaven beard showed greying hair, he looked closer to his retirement years.

He glared at me, his emotions carefully hidden behind his usual mask of annoyance. On a deep inhale, he relaxed his face and allowed me to study his true expressions. I knew when we had met a year ago, he had been suspicious of my skills and uncomfortable with me. Over time, his acerbic attitude had not changed, but he had become more protective of me. It didn’t take my three doctorate degrees to know that it was the most comfortable way for him to show affection. And that was what I saw in his expression right now. That, concern, and unsurprisingly, anger.

“I’m okay, Manny.”

“Ben Rhodes sent me the bloody photos, Doc.”

I closed my eyes for a second. My careful choice of clothes had just become a moot point.

“What photos?” Vinnie asked.

“They had beaten Jenny while she was out.” Colin had taken a seat next to me. Anger was evident in his tone. “You can see the shape of their fists, Vin.”

Vinnie got up so fast his chair fell over and landed with a thud on the heavy carpeting. Now I had two irate men towering over me, glaring at me as if I had been the one injuring myself. At least Colin was glaring at me sitting down. Were it not for my background in psychology, their behaviour would offend and intimidate me. It merely irritated me.

“A few days and the bruising will be gone.” It was most inconvenient reassuring people. “It hurts a little, but that too will fade.”

“Should you not go to the doctor? What about internal injuries?” Francine asked.

“The bruising would look different,” I said. My voice was less calming, more defensive. I did not want a doctor examining me. It would mean more strange hands touching me. “This is muscle damage only. They didn’t break anything. I will be fine.”

Vinnie made a sound of disgust, picked up his chair and sat down hard on it. “Let’s get those fuckers. Francine, have you got any video yet?”

“I’m still looking.” Francine was reputed to be one of the world’s best hackers. “I didn’t find anything on public sites, now I’m looking to the other places.”

Manny groaned. “Can’t we try to keep this above board for a change?”

“You want to get court orders for all security cameras of all the companies in all the cities from here to England?” She lowered her eyelashes, her voice turning sultry. “Not even your animalistic sex appeal would be enough for all that, handsome.”

Manny should have been used to Francine’s outrageous flirting by now. He wasn’t. His already tense body language tightened up even more. “Watch it, little girl. I told you before, you go up against me, there’s not a chance you will win.”

Francine gave him a slow wink and looked at me. “When you didn’t show up at home on Thursday evening and we realised you were gone, I immediately started searching for you. The security cameras in this street were supremely inadequate.”

“We’ve installed more,” Vinnie said, nodding for Francine to continue.

“I couldn’t find you guys anywhere. When you phoned this morning, I hacked into all the transportation points’ video feeds.” She ignored Manny’s pointed cough. “Nothing. You weren’t taken there by train, air or across the Channel by registered ferry or any other way. It must have all been private. Cars, planes or boats from places with no or limited security.”

A soft knock at the door interrupted our conversation. The door whooshed open and Angelique entered carrying a tray. She had been Phillip’s personal assistant before I started working here. It had been seven years and still she looked at me with fear. I had briefly attempted being friendly, but that had frightened her even more. I kept our contact to a minimum and she avoided me as much as possible. That was why her presence and the tray filled with refreshments got my attention. She placed the tray between Francine and Manny, where there was more space between the chairs. Manny had shifted away from the ever-flirting Francine.

“I brought some coffee and croissants.” She looked at me. The fear was evident, but I also saw regret. Odd. “Are you well, Doctor Lenard?”

“Yes, thank you, Angelique.”

No matter how many times Phillip had told her to fit in with the rest of the more informal atmosphere in the office and call everyone by their first name, she insisted on titles. I narrowed my eyes and studied her. Something was different about her behaviour. It was entirely possible that she was empathising with Phillip and the others’ concern. She had never before indicated any concern for my well-being. My scrutiny brought more fear to her body language and she took a few steps to the door. “If you need anything else, let me know.”

“Thank you, Angelique.” Phillip’s deep, calming voice drew her attention away from me.

“Sir.” She nodded at him and hurried from the room. The door closed quietly behind her.

“Tell me about the murder,” I said to Manny. Without any video or reasonable suspect, I needed more information.

“Oh no, missy.” The corners of Manny’s mouth turned down. “I haven’t even started asking you questions. Once I’m satisfied, you get to ask me questions. Here’s a question for you, Doc. Why were you investigating those thefts?”

I knew which thefts he was referring to. “I was bored.”

“And?” Manny waved his hand in a fast rolling gesture when I didn’t continue.

“And when I’m bored, I start looking for anomalies in the investigators’ reports, in reported art thefts, in police reports.”

“We’re supposed to look for Kubanov, missy.”

“And we’re not finding him.” My tone was as argumentative as Manny’s. This was the case that had brought Manny and the rest of the team into my life a year ago, also introducing us to Tomasz Kubanov, a rich and powerful philanthropist in Russia. Numerous law enforcement agencies across the globe were looking for evidence to convict him of a long list of crimes ranging from art fraud to arms trafficking to human trafficking. He was considered a dangerous and evil man.

Twice we had almost caught him. It was after the last event that the president had formed this team, our main goal finding and capturing Kubanov. Kubanov had formed an unhealthy obsession with me since I had destroyed a lucrative art fraud ring a year ago, and then foiled his plans to destroy the president’s family six months ago.

“Seriously, no one is going to say it?” Francine threw her hands in the air. She enjoyed being melodramatic. “Fine, then I’ll say it. This thing stinks of Kubanov. We might not have found him, but he has come looking for us. Well, for the two of you.”

Colin tensed next to me when everyone turned their attention to us.

“There is absolutely no proof that this is Kubanov.” Only my suspicions.

“Oh, come on, girlfriend.” Francine started counting on her manicured fingers. “In an amazingly well-organised attempt, you and sexy over there are kidnapped, drugged and shipped to a location no one knows about. Sorry, Colin… no one
knew
about. Then in another amazingly well-organised event, Colin is set up for the murder of the butler. That butler is connected to you because of your snooping through some burglary files. Who else do we know capable of orchestrating something this complex? Huh?”

“We have no evidence,” I said. Even I could hear the lack of conviction in my voice. I had to agree with Francine. The events of the last few days were very indicative of Kubanov’s
modus operandi
.

“And you have still not told me why you were looking into those burglaries.” Manny tapped one foot, waiting.

“In the last four months a few homes with exceptional security systems had been burgled. I thought that it might be related to the last time Kubanov had shown himself, and I looked into it. The afternoon we were taken, I realised that they were not related at all. I watched the interviews with the homeowners and saw that two of those were lying when they swore they had switched on the alarm systems before they had left. One owner was lying when confronted with his financial situation and whether he would use the insurance payout to cover mounting debts. That is why I said it came to nothing.”

“So it’s pure coincidence that Colin is being set up for the murder of a person connected to one of those cases?”

“I can’t answer that question. I don’t have enough data.”

“You think it is connected?” Manny’s voice rose in frustration. I often had that effect on him.

“I can’t answer that–”

“Bloody hell, missy.” Manny rubbed his face with both hands. With closed eyes, he breathed deeply twice before looking at me. “Okay, what do you want to know?”

“Tell me more about the murder.”

“There’s not much to add to what I told you this morning. The full report is on the system, so you can read the detail. One thing that I didn’t mention and that is a bit of a mystery is the ballistics.”

“What about the ballistics?” Vinnie knew people in the arms trade. The illegal arms trade. Of our team, he carried the most knowledge about weapons.

“The scientists in Scotland Yard are stumped by the evidence,” Manny said. “They recovered the bullets from the butler, none of which had any striae. There were none of the usual identifying marks on the bullets to help the lab find out if the gun had been used in any other crimes, who it is registered to and whatever magic they can pull from a few lines on a bullet. They also found traces of a waxy residue and alcohol.”

“What are they thinking?” Vinnie asked.

“Oh, there’s a whole lot of speculation going on.” The smile Manny aimed at me was genuine. He enjoyed irritating me with unsubstantiated conjecture. “But let me tell you more before I share their theories. The stippling found on the body indicated the gun had been shot at close range, at most two metres. The depth of the penetration and the angle indicated the gun was shot from a minimum of fifteen metres.”