Gauguin Connection, The (11 page)

“You just seem much more a Jenny to me than a Genevieve.” He leaned back in his chair. “A Genevieve is all stuck up and artificial. Jenny is soft, gentle and very real.”

“You think of me as soft?” I didn’t even bother to hide my shock.

“Of course. Doesn’t everyone else?”

Nobody had ever shown enough interest in me to attribute such adjectives to me. Maybe Jenny was not such a bad name after all. The corners of my mouth pulled down at that silly thought. “I don’t know nor do I care what others think about me. Shall we continue searching for more connections tonight?”

He smiled at my quick change of topic. “No. I think we’ve done quite well.”

“There is one more thing I’ll do.” I opened the file with the shipping companies. “I want to see if there is any connection between the ship carrying the Degas and the ship Nikolay
Chulkov worked on. Maybe I’ll even find more ships.”

“You’re going to make another list?” The smile pulling at the corners of his eyes didn’t indicate any malice in his question.

“Yes.”

“I’m sure all your lists will come in handy soon. Already they’ve helped.” He got up from his chair. “While you’re doing that, I’m going to find out who our girl is.”

“How do you plan to do that? Oh, wait, don’t tell me. I shouldn’t have asked.”

Colin smiled. “Don’t worry. There won’t be too many criminal activities involved.”

“I told you, I don’t want to know.” I stood up and looked at him earnestly. “It’s really difficult for me to work with you.”

“With me?”

“Not you as a person. That’s quite easy.” Much to my surprise. I had never worked well with anyone before and I had just spent five hours without once feeling the panic from human closeness eating at me. “It’s working with a criminal that goes against everything that I believe in.”

“Then maybe it’s time to change what you believe in.”

I made a noncommittal sound. I hated change but knew it was essential to my own growth and development. Change made me feel terrifyingly unsafe. But it had brought me bit by bit out of the very small world I used to live in. I was the first to acknowledge that my world was still miniscule compared to Colin’s.

For me though, it was a proud achievement to have proved everyone wrong—everyone being my parents. They had been convinced that I was going to be some computer scientist who never left the basement. Someone who never had contact with the outside world. I had proven them wrong. My world was much larger than a basement and I was in contact with the world, even if the contact was feeble at times. But maybe it was time to widen my horizons.

“Well, okay,” Colin said when I didn’t respond any further. “I’ll see you tomorrow then. Hopefully with the girl’s identity.”

“I suppose I shouldn’t bother suggesting that you use the front door.”

“You’re welcome to suggest it.”

“But you’ll still use your own means of entering and exiting.”

His smile brought warmth to his eyes. The man was a menace. I couldn’t deny that he was a fascinating and attractive man, but he was still a criminal. And that was a chasm between us that would prevent me from even considering a friendship with him. This tentative working arrangement was as far as I was going to enlarge my world.

I followed him to my home office and narrowed my eyes at the sight that met me. I was furious.

“There’s a footprint on my windowsill.”

He looked surprised. “I’m not Superman. I didn’t fly in here, Jenny.”

“If you’re going to continue breaking in, you’re going to have to start cleaning up after yourself.”

“I thought that I did quite a good job cleaning up the superglue remnants.” He gave me another dazzling smile. “Just keep the windows locked, not glued. I’ll find my way in.”

He hoisted himself effortlessly onto my windowsill and disappeared into the night before I could object any further. I immediately fetched my cleaning products and once the windowsill was yet again spotless, I placed a brilliant white towel on the marble windowsill. At least a towel was easier to clean.

A quick glance at the clock and I decided to get a good night’s sleep. Tomorrow was Monday. I could look into the owners of the shipping companies at the office before the meeting with Manny. That was really not something I was looking forward to. The EDA deputy chief was an intolerant boar. At least Phillip would be there to play his usual role as a buffer and translator. I switched off the lights around the dining room and wondered how I was going to convince Phillip to not tell Manny about Colin and his involvement. I didn’t even know if I was going to tell Phillip that Colin now knew everything. I cringed to think what his reaction would be.

“We have to tell Manny.”

Phillip was resolute in his position. He had been waiting for me and the moment I had stepped into out of the elevator, he had guided me into his office. I was reporting on my progress and he didn’t seem too pleased. His lips were drawn in thin lines and he was using his stern voice. “I can’t believe I condoned this. This Colin Frey is a criminal, for the love of God.”

“I know that, Phillip. You suggested that I should work with him.”

“It was a careless comment.” He was exasperated. “I distinctly remember also telling you to phone the police, or me, or preferably both. Why didn’t you do that?”

“He wasn’t a threat. He isn’t a threat. As a matter of fact, he was the one who suggested that I look for any connections with the Russian murderer.” At least I had been able to impress Phillip with the connections I had made over the weekend. He was particularly interested in the three artworks that I had discovered on the shipping data.

“Genevieve, we have to tell Manny.”

“No, we don’t. He’ll want to arrest Colin and I think that Colin can really help us. He seems to be very driven to find out who’s responsible for this whole situation.” Why I defended the thief was beyond me. He annoyed me, tested my belief system and made me desperately want to get rid of him. Now I was championing him.

“That is yet another reason to be concerned. Being that driven probably means that he is emotionally invested somewhere in this whole tangle. That is never a good thing. Oh, hell.” His expletive took me aback. Phillip wasn’t one for crass language. He was too cultured for that. “Last week we only had one murdered girl, one Russian murderer, a stolen artefact and stolen weapons. This week we have a full-blown conspiracy.”

I had shown him my notepad and it came as no surprise that he was aghast when he saw the page with all the boxes. The fact that the boxes and the lines were multiplying had brought deep furrows to his brow. His face exhibited all the classic cues of distress and it was getting worse the more we talked.

“I think I should go and see if I can make any more progress with the owners of the shipping companies.”

“Oh, dear lord.” He shook his head. “You’d better put all this in a nice presentation before one o’clock.”

“One o’clock?”

“Manny will be here then.”

I barely refrained from groaning out loud. I only nodded and left Phillip in his office to tend to matters he would find less stressful.

From the first day I had stepped into his office, it was obvious that he loved the stress that came with his job. If there were not enough new clients, works of art that needed authentication or the possibility of a fraudulent claims, he became listless. The smallest hint of a problem and he thrived.

This case, however, did not have that effect on him, I mused as I entered my viewing room. While this case intrigued me, he seemed genuinely distressed by it all. He hadn’t said it this morning, but I had read regret on his face and was wondering if he regretted agreeing to help Manny with this case or whether he regretted getting me involved. I set my computer bag on the long desk and took out both my work and the EDA computer. It was time to look for more connections.

A few hours later Phillip’s assistant cautiously entered the viewing room. It was a rarity that Angelique even spoke to me, so I was surprised to see her in the doorway. She was a formidable woman in her early fifties with a husband of thirty years and three adult children. Not once had I seen Angelique back down for even the brashest of executives, yet she always appeared uncomfortable when she had to speak to me.

“I hope I’m not disturbing you.” She spoke as if she was addressing a caged tigress. Her non-threatening body language showed her intent to not startle me into some unpredictable behaviour. “Phillip asked me to call you to his office. He wants to speak to you before Monsieur Millard comes.”

“Thank you, Angelique. I will be there in five minutes.” I didn’t have the energy nor the desire to make the older lady feel more comfortable in my presence. During the last six years, we had been polite to each other, but never familiar. I preferred this.

“I’ll tell him.” She left as quietly as she had entered. It gave me the chance to quickly print out my presentation. There was no way that Manny could disapprove of my progress today. The last few hours had been productive. Very productive.

I switched off all the computers, made sure everything was straightened, put the printouts in my handbag and left the viewing room. Angelique jumped up from behind her large mahogany desk to open the door to Phillip’s office.

“He’s waiting for you. I put your coffee on his desk.”

“Thank you very much, Angelique.” I realised that our conversations had always been limited to these exchanges. This prompted me to give Angelique a warm smile which only confounded the older woman.

“Come in, come in.” Phillip’s voice from behind his desk drew me into the room. He was looking at me with a mixture of expectation and dread. “So, did you find anything?”

“Oh, yes, I did.” Excitement brightened my voice. I quickly walked to one of the leather chairs facing his desk and sat down. “You will not believe this.”

“Oh, dear.” He did not sound excited at all. As a matter of fact, he sounded downright apprehensive. He glanced at his gold wristwatch. “We have at most twenty minutes before Manny comes. The more I know, the better I can present it to Manny.”

As I reached into my handbag for the presentation, a happy tune started playing somewhere in the office. I looked up from my handbag and gave Phillip an annoyed glance. “What is that?”

“A cell phone.” It was the tone he used when he thought I was being brilliantly daft. “And it’s coming from your handbag.”

“Nobody ever phones me.” I put my hand back into the bag and came out with my smartphone. It was indeed where the irritating tune came from. I carefully put my handbag on the floor and held the phone as if it were a live hand grenade.

“I didn’t know you had a phone.” Phillip was clearly surprised. “Aren’t you going to answer it?”

I looked at the screen and nearly threw the phone against the wall. I swiped the screen to answer. “You put your photo on my phone?”

“Hello, Jenny.” Colin’s charming voice answered my outrage.

“Don’t hello me. How did you get my number? And when did you put your number on my phone? With a photo!”

“How did you like the ring tone? It’s Lady Gaga.”

“I know of no such lady.” I modulated my tone to a cold whisper. Phillip looked very concerned and stood up to move around his desk towards me. I shook my head to stop him. “I’m blocking this number and resealing my windows. With industrial glue.”

“Wait!” he called as I started to move the instrument away from my ear. “I know who the dead girl is.”

I slapped the smartphone back against my ear. “What? Who? How?”

“Come downstairs and I’ll show you.”

“I’m not in my apartment.”

“I know that.” He chuckled. “Come on down. I’m waiting for you in front of the building.”

Before I could pepper him with more questions, he disconnected and I was standing with a silent smartphone in my hand. I brought the instrument down slowly and glared at it. “I’m going to kill that… that common criminal.”

Phillip stormed around his desk and reached for my phone, but I snatched it out of his reach. “Genevieve, what did he say? What did he want?”

The better question was how Colin had known where I was. I was most definitely going to confront him with that as soon as I laid eyes on him. The thought of that annoying, overconfident thief waiting outside for me was, however, infinitely more appealing than meeting with Manny. Why that was, I was not about to explain to myself with my Freudian background. Instead, I picked my handbag off the floor and put the smartphone in its designated pocket. “I have to go.”

“What? You can’t go now. Manny is going to be here in ten minutes.” He reached for my arm, but I sidestepped him with a frown on my face. Phillip knew I hated to be touched. He was uncharacteristically concerned. “Genevieve, please. Where are you going?”

I stopped at the entrance to his office and turned around. “Please don’t tell Manny anything, Phillip. Not a thing.”

“How can you expect me to do that when you won’t even tell me where you are going or what Colin said to you?”

“He found the identity of the murdered girl. I’m going to meet him now.” I thought for a moment. “Tell Manny that I’m following up on a lead and will be able to give him an exhaustive report tomorrow. I’m sure that this girl’s identity will open a whole new line of connections for us.”

“God help us all,” was Phillip’s response. I gave him a quick smile and turned to leave. As I walked past Angelique’s desk, Phillip’s voice followed me. “I want your number, Genevieve.”

I shot Angelique a guilty smile and hurried to the elevators. Even though the elevator doors opened less than a minute later, it felt like an eternity. The trip down four floors took equally long and it was with great impatience that I walked past the security desk to the front door. Hitching my handbag over my shoulder, I pushed open the heavy wooden door of the historic building and stepped into a bright sunny day.

The weather in Strasbourg often pushed the mercury past tolerable and today was one of those days. I reached into my handbag for my sunglasses. Once my eyes were protected from the bright sunlight, I started looking around for Colin.

A full minute later I had scoured the street in front of the building and still couldn’t see Colin anywhere. Rousseau & Rousseau’s offices were on a quiet street with buildings housing corporations that didn’t require foot traffic. There were therefore never many people passing the buildings, not even in tourist season. Today was no exception.

Across the street, a young mother was pushing her infant in a stroller and to my left was an elderly couple slowly making their way towards the shopping district. The only other person I could see was a distinguished-looking gentleman leaning heavily on his cane. His gray hair was mussed as if he’d pushed his hands through it numerous times. Despite the high temperature, he was wearing a three-piece suit that dated from a few decades ago, but still looked very sharp. Every step he took towards me looked like it caused him great discomfort.

“We’d better go. I just saw Millard driving around the block looking for parking.”

I gaped at the old man with Colin’s voice. It could not be. As I had done with the three photos of the poets, I only recognised him once I focussed on his mouth. “You’re good. Really good.”

“Why, thank you, young lady.” The smile that lit up his face took decades off his artificially aged image and he looked much more like the thief who consistently annoyed me. He reached me and put his free arm through mine. What was it with men touching me today? I tried to pull away from this unexpected physical contact, but he held on tighter. “It will look more natural if you aid me when we rush to my car. We don’t have much time before Millard will drive down here again.”

I pushed down my intense dislike for physical contact and started walking. “Where is your car?”

“It’s the red Toyota down there.” He lifted his hand from my arm to point to a car about fifty meters ahead before he rested his hand lightly on my arm. The heat from his hand burned on my skin. I swallowed hard against the discomfort tightening its fingers around my throat and started imagining Mozart’s Symphony No. 9 in C major. In my mind I drew the accolade, the clefs and first notes on a clear music score sheet. A few steps later my breathing deepened and the tension left my body.

“You have to teach me to do that thing.”

“What thing?”

“The thing you just did. I could feel you calm down and relax.”

We reached the car and Colin pulled his arm from mine. He reached into his retro pants pocket and came out with a remote control for the car. A soft pop sounded and the doors were unlocked. He opened the passenger door and waited for me to get in before he slowly walked around to the driver’s side. I watched with a mixture of admiration and annoyance as he stayed in character even when there was no one else on the street. He settled in next to me and put his cane on the back seat. “I’m serious about you teaching me your relaxation technique.”

“If I am going to teach you anything, Mister Frey, it will be to not break into my home, my life, my handbag and my cell phone.”

“Oh, that.” He pulled out of the parking space and drove down the one-way street. “I suppose you want me to explain.”

I didn’t consider it necessary to answer him and just glared at him. He turned into a main street before he glanced at me and winced.

“You’re pissed. Okay, it was the first time we met. You were busy writing your music and I had nothing else to do.”

“So you went through my handbag?” My cell phone very seldom left its designated pocket in my handbag.

“Yes. I thought it would be a good thing for me to get to know you better. When I saw your phone I realised how important it would be for us to be able to contact each other since we were going to be working together.”

“How could you have made such an assumption? I hadn’t even agreed to work with you then.”