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Authors: Estelle Ryan

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BOOK: 3 The Braque Connection
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“I got it.” Speaking to Colin was unproductive. He was still non-responsive. I was scared enough to admit that the reassurance was for me. “I’m going to phone Manny.”

He would be furious with me, but he would help. And his was the only number I could recall at the moment. I swiped the touch screen only to smear blood all over it. A high-pitched whine pushed past my teeth. There was still blood on my hand. I wiped my hand furiously on my trousers and did the same with the phone. To my relief, no password was required when I swiped the screen again. Within three seconds the phone was ringing. I held it to my ear and looked at the wall across from me.

“Who the hell is phoning me at two in the bleeding morning?” Manny’s sleepy, but agitated voice caused tears to fill my eyes. I focussed on one of the paintings to calm myself, but it had the complete opposite effect. How many more times was I going to see something that rendered me paralysed with trepidation? Manny continued to rudely insist on knowing who had the audacity to phone him in the middle of the night. All I could do was try to prevent a shutdown while staring at Braque’s Harbour in Normandy hanging on Hawk’s wall.

“Help.” I still stared at the painting, irrationally wondering if it was following me. “Help.”

“Who’s this? Speak up, I can’t hear you.”

I cleared my throat and looked away from the painting. “Colin won’t wake up.”

“Doc?” Manny’s voice was fully alert. “Doc, is that you?”

“The painting is here.” I was trying to pull myself together, but found it very hard. Looking at the painting, I felt myself being drawn into its mystery. I looked down and debilitating fear rushed through me as I looked at Colin’s prone body.

“Genevieve!”

In the year that I’d known Manny, he had called me by my given name no more than five times. It was this that brought me to a higher level of consciousness.

“It’s me.” My voice was trembling and soft, but audible. “I don’t know where we are. Hawk is dead and Colin won’t wake up. Manny, I don’t want him to die.”

“No one’s going to die today, missy.” The sounds of movement came through the phone as if he was running. “Is Frey still breathing?”

“Yes, but he won’t wake up.” I was repeating myself.

“Doc, stay on the line. I’ll come get you.” Scratching noises came through the phone, followed by Manny’s muted voice. He must have pushed the phone against his chest, but I could hear him shouting at someone. When he called the person ‘criminal’ a second time, I knew he was bringing Vinnie. I exhaled loudly in relief.

“Doc, is there anyone else there?”

“I don’t think so. It’s just me.” My voice broke. “And Colin. Hawk is dead.”

“What the fuck are you doing with Hawk?” There was a lot of noise, shouting and a car racing coming through the phone. It was interrupted by beeping. “Bloody hell, my battery is going. Doc?”

“I’m still here.”

“Doc, I need to know where I’m driving. Somewhere in Strasbourg, in France, to the airport? Where are you?”

“I told you I don’t know.” I felt smothered by the panic bearing down on me. There was no greater torture for me than the lack of information and knowledge. “Hawk said we’re in his house.”

“But you said he’s dead.”

“He said that before he died.”

There was another muted conversation, cut off when Manny’s phone disconnected the call. For a few minutes I hadn’t felt utterly alone. Without the telephonic connection I felt isolated and powerless. It was the latter combined with knowing nothing of my location or how we had arrived here that pushed me even closer to the edge. I put the phone on the carpet, next to Colin’s head.

“Manny and Vinnie are coming.” I awkwardly touched his cheek with my fingertips. He was comfortable with physical affection, whereas I didn’t know how to do this naturally. My movements were stilted and uncoordinated. “I don’t want you to die. Please don’t die.”

Colin had been the one pursuing a romantic relationship with me. Before him, I’d had a few short-term affairs, connections I would not even qualify as a relationship. It had merely been for mutual sexual satisfaction. Francine called that ‘fuck buddies’. I didn’t like the term.

The man lying in front of me did not fit into that category. He had shown me more patience, understanding and tolerance than anyone before. In the last six months, Colin had cajoled laughter out of me. I was not known for possessing a cheerful disposition. He had brought a lightness into my life which, I realised sitting here, I didn’t want to be without. I might have told him earlier that he should end our relationship if ever he got tired of me, but looking at him lying in front of me, I wanted to retract my words.

“I don’t want you to end it. Don’t give up on me.” I put my one palm flat on his chest, the other against his cheek. My voice was not my own. To my ears it sounded thick with unspoken emotions. “Don’t leave me. I don’t want to go back to living the way I did before you broke into my flat. Please don’t go.”

I picked up the phone and redialled Manny’s number. It went to voicemail. I trusted him to keep his word and find us, but I needed reassurance. This was the first time in my life that I had considered someone else’s safety and life before my own. I couldn’t allow myself to give in to the tempting blackness and leave Colin without any defence. Not knowing how else to stay calm, I started going through all the different aspects of this case. Out loud. I talked to Colin as if he was aware of every word I said. The irrationality of it was not lost on me, but it seemed the only prevention for my pending panic attack.

I didn’t know how long it took me to discuss the tattoo on my arm. I described the website in every detail I recalled. The angle of the photos, the order of the slideshow and the people with me when the photos had been taken. I described the colours of the website and the strangely ornate frames used around each photo. As I spoke, loose bits of information congealed into something more substantial, but my thinking brain was still too occupied with everything that surrounded me to allow it to filter through.

Sounds outside stalled my monologue. Someone was at the front door. If it were the Printer, I didn’t want to give away that I had survived. Until this moment I hadn’t given any thought to the possibility that he might return. If the Printer was indeed a man. I grabbed Colin’s cold hand in both of mine and fixed my eyes on the door. I didn’t have a view of the front door, and was overcome with the deep discomfort of not knowing who was going to come through that door.

Scratching noises at the door indicated the door was being opened by a key or lockpick. I hoped it was Vinnie and his expert lockpicking skills. It felt like an eternity before the door opened to allow the night in. The insects sounded closer. I would’ve preferred to focus on their night sounds, but careful footsteps were coming my way.

I held my breath and huddled closer to Colin. Once I’d read a story about a man who had wrapped his waterproof watch in a handkerchief to put it in his jacket pocket as his little sailboat was sinking. Huddling close to Colin held the same lack of logic, yet it made me feel better. Safer. A few whispered words reached me, but were too quiet to identify the speakers.

The barrel of a hefty handgun came into view, followed by Vinnie’s large frame. Relief flooded through my body, making my muscles weaker than they still were. I didn’t stop the involuntary cry of recognition and collapsed onto Colin’s chest.

“Jen-girl! They’re here, I have them!” Vinnie shouted over his shoulder as he took two large steps to reach us. “Are you okay? What the fuck happened? Is Colin okay?”

Manny came running into the room, concern all over his features. As if through water, I heard them asking me one question after the other. Vinnie tried to lift me away from Colin, but I clung to him, unwilling to move from his chest. Now that these two men who would do anything to keep me safe were here, I could let go. I wrapped my arms around Colin and allowed the blackness to take me away from this horrid place. Manny and Vinnie would take care of everything. They would make sure Colin didn’t die.

 

 

Chapter ELEVEN

 

 

 

It was the vibration of Colin’s voice against my back that brought me back. My breath caught as I opened my eyes and saw the same room Colin had been lying in. The early morning sun was shining through the large window. I was on the sofa, hugging my knees tightly to my chest, my back warm against Colin’s chest. He was sitting at an angle, both arms around me, holding me to him. Any other person and it would have sent me into a shutdown or possibly a meltdown. Being surrounded by Colin made me feel safe.

“Jenny?” He stretched his neck to look around at me. I turned my head, an unpleasant warmth colouring my cheeks. I didn’t like being so vulnerable. “How’re you feeling?”

I patted his arm stiffly and moved away to sit next to him. I couldn’t get myself to move too far away from him. I studied him until I was satisfied with what I saw. “You didn’t wake up.”

“I’m awake now.”

“He took his sweet time too.” Vinnie was sitting on an antique chair. His lounging pose and large body looked incongruous with the fine design and thin legs of the early nineteenth-century chair. He had a cut above his eyebrow and a lot of bruising on one side of his face, the discolouration indicating it was recent. It had to be from his physical altercation with Colin, yet there was no animosity between them at the moment. For that I was grateful. His smile was genuine and relieved. “Hey, Jen-girl.”

“Hey.” I had learned to greet like this, but it felt improper. I turned back to Colin. “Are you well now?”

“I have one hell of a hangover, but I’ve survived worse.”

I knew this to be true. Soon after our first case a year ago, Kubanov had lured Colin to Russia. There he had captured Colin and had tortured him for days until Vinnie had found and rescued him. It had taken Colin months to recover. He still had the deep, ugly scars on one leg as a reminder.

“How long have I been out?”

“Three hours,” Vinnie said before Colin inhaled to speak. His
corrugator procerus
muscle contracted to form a deep frown. “You scared the living shit out of me, Jen-girl.”

“You’ve seen me like this before, Vinnie.” Much to my chagrin. “Why did it scare you?”

“No, not that. Being woken up by the old man in the middle of the night and hearing him panic.” He lowered his head and looked at me from under his eyebrows. “That is what scared me. I seriously don’t know how I got dressed and downstairs so fast, or how he got to the apartment that fast, but we were driving here before I was awake.”

I doubted that. Vinnie had the ability to go from a deep sleep to fully alert in a heartbeat.

“How did you find us?” I wanted to apologise, because I was sure Colin had asked all these questions before, but I knew Vinnie didn’t mind telling the same story numerous times. His repetitive anecdotes bored me at times.

“Manny got Francine to track the phone you used to call him. Stupid arsehole didn’t charge his phone and we lost contact. By the time she came through with the location, we were already on our way here. When he said that you told him you guys were in Hawk’s house, I was sure you were here.”

“You’ve been here before?”

“Nope.” A calculating smile lifted one corner of his mouth. “I just like to know everything I can about the people who might be a threat to me.”

Colin’s breathing changed. More audible, harder. He was getting angry again.

“Dude, I don’t know how many more times I have to apologise. I didn’t think he would be a threat to Jen-girl.”

“Clearly you didn’t think.”

“Please don’t argue now.” I felt raw from all the emotions. “Vinnie lost somebody he cared for.”

“Who?”

I looked at Vinnie. “He might not have been a good person, but you shared some kind of bond.”

“Yeah, some kind of bond is how I would describe it, Jen-girl. We’ve known each other a very long time and we have helped each other out of a few scrapes. In this line of work, I knew he was going to meet his end soon.” There was more acceptance on Vinnie’s face than sadness. “It’s better this way.”

We sat quietly for a few seconds, reflecting.

“Why’s that there?” I pointed at the Braque painting leaning against the legs of Vinnie’s chair.

“You wouldn’t let go of Colin, so I had to bring it to him.”

“What do you mean?”

Colin put his hand on my clutched fists. “Apparently you wouldn’t allow anyone to move you, so the medics had to work around you to get to me. When I came to, you still wouldn’t let go, so I moved us to the sofa to be more comfortable.”

“You’ve been sitting like this for three hours?” I felt the heat crawl into my cheeks again. It was hard to not drop my head and round my shoulders in defeated shame.

“The paramedics thought it was sweet.” Colin squeezed my fists.

I closed my eyes and groaned. The embarrassment was uncomfortable and I was desperate to change the topic. I straightened and looked at the painting. “Is it real? Is this the original painting that was stolen from the McCarthy house?”

“I’m pretty sure it is the original Braque, yes. The angular and shaded brushstrokes in this painting are unique to Braque. I was very close in reproducing this. The artists who did the other forgeries didn’t fare all that well. The more I look at this, the more sure I am it is the original.”

“How did it get from Kathleen McCarthy’s house to Hawk’s? What is his connection to her?”

Noises from the foyer caught my attention. A familiar voice reached me before Manny walked into the room. He looked at me, frowned and walked faster.

“You here, missy?”

I looked at him, not understanding his question. I was sitting right in front of him.

“Jenny, he wants to know if you’re awake.”

“Oh.” I frowned at Manny. “Why didn’t you say that? Asking me if I am here is redundant.”

“You’re back, all right.” Manny swung around and pointed his finger at Vinnie. “And you. I told you to call me the moment she came to. What part of that sentence didn’t you understand, criminal?”

“The part where you ordered me around like one of your mindless underlings.” Vinnie’s top lip curled, adding to his belligerence. “And she just joined us a few minutes ago. Keep your hair on, old man.”

“You people…” Manny’s nostrils flared, his body tense. “Missy, would you care to tell me how the bleeding hell you came to be in Hawk’s house?”

“I don’t know.” I watched the
supratrochlear
artery on Manny’s forehead become more pronounced. The redness in his face was not from embarrassment like mine. His anger was escalating. I started speaking very fast. “What I mean is that I really don’t know how we got here. The last place I remembered being was in my viewing room.”

“Do you remember leaving the office?” Vinnie asked. He had his smartphone in his hand. When I answered in the negative he started tapping on the screen. “I’m asking Francine to check all the video from the office last night. Maybe she will find out what happened to you guys.”

“It would be a relief to know how we left. One moment I was in the viewing room, the next thing I remember is waking up next to Hawk.” I recalled my last thoughts. “Our coffee was drugged.”

“What coffee?” Colin and Manny asked at the same time.

I turned to Colin. “Don’t you remember?”

“Frey here doesn’t remember anything.” Suspicion was clear in Manny’s voice. I didn’t need to see his body language.

“You really don’t remember?” I asked, ignoring Manny.

“The last thing I recall is our discussion.”

“Which one?” We’d had many during the day. Had he taken a higher dosage of the drug that it had impaired his memory much more than mine?

“The one where you told me to break up with you,” Colin said fast, in a low voice.

“I don’t want you to do that.” I was shaking my head. “At the time I said it, I believed it to be true. I don’t want that anymore.”

“Frey! Missy!” Manny’s frustrated yell stopped even the muted conversations in the other rooms. “What fucking coffee?”

“The coffee Colin made for us.” All eyes were on me. “As usual he drank his very fast. I took a few sips, maybe drinking one third of my mug. By the time I realised the feeling I had wasn’t fatigue, but the effects of a drug, Colin was already unconscious.”

“You did this?” Even though Manny was furious, his question didn’t convey any accusation.

“Fuck you, Millard.”

“Thought so.” Manny nodded. “Then who put the drug in your coffee? How did they get into the office? Oh hellfire, wait.”

Nobody spoke while Manny pulled a cell phone from his coat pocket. I bit the inside of my lip to prevent myself from asking him if that one was charged in case he went into an uncontrolled rage. We listened to two conversations. The first was a quick one with Phillip, asking him to secure the offices and not allow anyone in until Manny sent people to go through Rousseau & Rousseau, looking for the drugged coffee. That needed another short explanation and assurance that I was fine. He nodded once and agreed with Phillip that all evidence might already have been removed, but he wanted to make sure.

The next call was longer and more detailed as he gave orders on what to look for and where. It afforded me time to take notice of the people moving around the other parts of the house.

“Are these people police?” I nodded towards the entrance.

Vinnie glanced at the door, his lip curling. “Crime scene investigators. They’ve already taken Hawk’s body to the morgue for an autopsy. Now they’re crawling around the house, looking in every nook and cranny. The old man says they’re the best.”

“They are.” Manny put the phone back in his coat pocket. “If Hawk had anything in this house implicating him in some crime, they will find it.”

“Why don’t you just go to his warehouse?” I asked. “I’m sure you will find lots there to connect him and possibly other people to crimes.”

“What warehouse?” Manny’s glare carried a lot of anger.

I took a moment before I answered. First I studied Manny’s body language, then Vinnie’s.

“You didn’t tell him,” I said to Vinnie. “Why not?”

Vinnie only lifted one shoulder again. His attempt at nonchalance didn’t convince me. His other nonverbal cues revealed his true motivation for withholding the truth. Loyalty towards me. He was protecting me from Manny.

“He has to know.” I hoped Vinnie wouldn’t expect me to continue the deception. Again he lifted his shoulder.

“Of course I bloody well have to know.” Manny took a step closer to me. “What warehouse, missy?”

I had known telling Manny wasn’t going to be easy. But facing him while he towered over me was more disconcerting than I had anticipated. I turned my hands over and held onto Colin’s hand.

“I went with Vinnie to Hawk’s warehouse… yesterday morning.” My grip on Colin’s hand tightened as Manny’s hands fisted at his sides, his lips pulled back to bare his teeth, and his nostrils flared. He stormed away, walked back, glared at me and walked away again. He repeated this a few times, even shaking a fist at Vinnie once.

At last he stopped in front of me, his body tense. “Talk. And tell me bloody everything.”

As fast as I could, I told him everything. He listened quietly, his anger visibly increasing. When I finished, he turned to Vinnie, disgust curling his upper lip. “Bloody fucking criminal. You took her into the lion’s den and look what it got you. This is your fault, you realise that, right?”

“Leave him alone, Manny.” I couldn’t bear to see the self-blame in Vinnie’s eyes.

“No, he’s right, Jen-girl.” Vinnie sat up. “I fucked up. I don’t know how I’ll make this up to you, but I will. I swear I will.”

“I could’ve said no.” And he would not have been able to sway me.

“Is that where the two of you got your latest war badges?” Manny’s nod towards the bruising on Vinnie’s face helped me understand his expression. Neither Vinnie nor Colin answered, but their body language was becoming more hostile.

“Regret and accusations are not productive,” I said. “Why don’t we work with what we have now? Like a recording of that whole event.”

“What? You recorded the whole time you were there? Do you have a bleeding death wish?” Manny’s eyebrows rose high on his forehead. He turned his anger on Colin. “And where were you while your girlfriend was playing superspy, Frey?”

“He didn’t know,” I said quickly. “Stop with all the accusations, Manny. Vinnie and I apologised to Colin. Now I’m apologising to you. I planned to tell you, but I should’ve phoned you before I went.”

“You shouldn’t have gone at all, missy.”

“But I did and now we have more than forty-five minutes’ worth of video footage to analyse. You also have an entire warehouse to go through and find some more clues to help us solve this.”

Manny stared at me, the
orbicularis oris
muscle compressed his mouth into an angry line, his eyes clear and boring into mine. He was communicating with the sole use of nonverbal cues. It was very effective. I swallowed.

“Manny, I give you my word that I will not do something like this again.”

BOOK: 3 The Braque Connection
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