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Authors: Estelle Ryan

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BOOK: 3 The Braque Connection
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Chapter TWENTY-FOUR

 

 

 

I stared at the stately mansion in front of us. The Russian House. The walls were a brilliant white against the afternoon summer sun, the once carefully landscaped gardens neglected and overgrown with weeds. The windows were dark and empty. An abandoned atmosphere clung to the house. I huffed inwardly at my irrational thoughts. I was imprinting my knowledge on what I was seeing. Just because I was told the house had been empty didn’t mean it was.

Being here brought back a flood of frightening memories from a year ago. It had been three hundred and forty-seven days since the night I entered this house to catch a man working for Kubanov, killing students all over Europe. My mouth was dry and my throat tight.

We were standing outside the car at the entrance gate, waiting for Manny. The sound of a racing car engine announced his arrival. As soon as he stopped and turned off the car, he jumped out. “Move back, people.”

It took a few threats before we were all stationed on the other side of the street, the vehicles a barrier between us and the house. Manny was still berating us for being so close to a possible bomb site when GIPN arrived in three black vehicles. They were an emergency response unit, the equivalent of a SWAT team. Officers dressed in black uniforms exited the vehicles with military efficiency. I recognised the team leader, Daniel, from our last case and nodded when he greeted me. I didn’t want to be here.

GIPN went into immediate action, trained to almost choreographed perfection. They set up surveillance, analysed heat signatures from inside the house and sent in two teams when they determined no one was inside. All the while, I was trying to understand this new development unfolding in front of me. I had the added challenge of Nikki staying close to my side at all times. Fortunately, she didn’t speak.

“The house is clear, guys.” Daniel walked across the street an hour later, unfastening his helmet strap. “We’ve checked every nook and cranny of that house. There’s no one there. We’ve also checked for explosives. Our dogs picked up nothing.”

“Is there something inside the house? Furniture? Paintings?” Maybe Kubanov had left a message for me.

“There is one painting in the ballroom, but that’s it. Nothing else. It’s a ghost house.”

“Can we go inside?” I needed to see that painting.

“Sure.” Daniel waved two of his team members over. “We’ll accompany you.”

“Have you checked the painting for explosives and wires?” I was thinking not only of the bombs in the office, but also when Kubanov had fitted bombs to paintings six months ago, once nearly killing me and another time injuring Manny.

“Checked and cleared, Doctor Lenard.”

“Genevieve,” I said absently. When I took my first step to follow Daniel, I became aware of Nikki right next to me. I stopped and looked at her.

“I don’t want to stay here alone,” she said. I continued to look at her, but she didn’t waver. She stared back. “Don’t leave me.”

“I’m not leaving you. I want you safe. There are a lot of police here to protect you. If you go inside, I will be distracted and I might miss something important. Please wait here for me. I will come back.”

“Promise me.”

There wasn’t time to argue with her, and there was definitely no time to ask her why she had chosen me to become attached to. I nodded stiffly. “I promise. Now please wait inside the car.”

Relief relaxed all the muscles in her face when I gave her my word. She believed me, and I knew she would wait in the car. Without checking to see if she went to the SUV, I turned and walked with Colin to the front door. The thirty metres it took us to get there I used preparing myself. I didn’t want to spend time and energy analysing the expressions I had seen on Colin’s face observing Nikki and me interacting.

Daniel and the others had already entered through the front door. I hesitated. Dread of what I might find inside settled in my chest like a growing rock. Colin’s hand closed around my elbow and immediately I felt grounded, no longer as terrified. His hand moved down to cover my fist. He waited until I opened my hand and intertwined his fingers with mine. He was with me.

We walked through the door, the view spectacular with a winding staircase leading to a landing overlooking the foyer. Dust dulled the previously shiny surfaces and I spotted a few spider webs. I looked away from the accumulated dirt with a shudder and followed the sound of voices towards the back of the house.

As I remembered, there were seven large rooms downstairs. This house was perfect for entertaining, but was now an empty husk. Our footsteps echoed through the house, Manny’s voice bouncing off the walls as he spoke to Daniel about the search. From Daniel’s response, they had systematically gone through the house. There was no faulting their technique and I felt comfortable he was telling the truth.

If Kubanov wasn’t here, why the five o’clock message? Why the clue leading us to the Russian House?

We entered the largest room on the ground floor, the ballroom. Objectively speaking, it would be a pity for a house of such beauty to be demolished. It was spacious, elegant and reminded me of a black and white movie Vinnie had watched on my large-screen television. Yet the irrational emotions in me insisted demolishing this house sounded like a good idea.

“What do you make of this, Doc?” Manny was standing in front of a painting. He moved to the side and presented the painting with an extravagant hand gesture. “Another bloody Braque painting.”

On the wall was another reproduction, another forgery, of Braque’s Harbour of Normandy. I never wanted to see that painting again for as long as I lived. I stepped closer, pulling Colin with me. “Is it a forgery by the same artist who forged the paintings in your safe house and my apartment?”

Colin leaned in and nodded. “Yup, looks like the same work.”

“Can we remove it from the wall?” I asked.

“Sure. I’ll do it.” Daniel carefully lifted the painting away from the wall and checked the back. “Nothing here.”

Colin held out his hand and took the painting, turning it around. “It has brown paper at the back. No canvas, no painting. Vin, could you go get my camera from the SUV?”

“Done. I’ll check on the little punk as well.”

I had forgotten about Nikki and was glad Vinnie hadn’t. I returned my attention to the painting in Colin’s hands. “Do you think there is an underpainting on the painting itself?”

“I have no idea. We’ll check.”

Daniel’s radio crackled and he left the room. Colin tore the brown paper from the back, revealing nothing strange. He hung the painting back on the wall with an annoyed sigh. I took a step back from the painting, tilted my head and looked for anything out of the ordinary.

“Do you see something strange?” Francine asked. “Because I really don’t.”

“It’s an exact replica. Not a brilliant one, but exact.” Colin folded his arms. Before he could say anything else, Daniel stepped back into the room.

“We have a hostage situation downtown. Do you guys still need us here?”

“I’ve got it from here,” Manny said. “You go ahead and do your job.”

“I’ll leave two uniforms to keep watch from the gate until you are ready to leave. The other team is on standby if you need anything.” Daniel was already walking out the room. “Call and they’ll be where you need them.”

“Thanks, Daniel.”

I didn’t think Daniel heard Manny. His face told me he was already analysing the hostage situation. I looked at the painting again. “There has to be something here.”

“Here’s the light, dude.” Vinnie walked into the room, holding out the digital camera. “I brought the little punk with me. Hope it’s okay with you, Jen-girl.”

“I know you know I’m here, but I’ll be so quiet, you’ll forget.” Nikki walked to the window and leaned against the low windowsill. I looked at her for a few seconds. When I could see no fear or indicators of distress, I nodded and turned back to the painting. Outside GIPN’s vehicles started up and raced away.

“There’s too much light in this room to take a good photo.” Colin tilted the camera in his hand. At half past six in summer the sun was still high enough to provide a lot of natural light. In this case it was not welcomed.

“We can close the shutters.” Nikki raised her shoulders towards her ears when we looked at her. “Sorry. I’m not here.”

“She’s right. The shutters are operated from here.” Francine pointed at the switches by the door frame. I had assumed they were all for the lights. “Let’s check if it will work.”

A whirring sound brought a smile to Francine’s face when she flipped one of the switches. The shutters closed slowly, gradually casting the room into shadow, adding an eerie atmosphere to the empty space. Colin waited until the shutters were completely closed, the room in semi-darkness before aiming the camera at the painting to take a photo. Confusion was on his face when he looked at the display screen.

“Nothing. Huh.” He took the painting from the wall, turned it around and took another photo. “Again, nothing.”

“Then why are we here and why is the painting here?” Francine flipped the switches to open the shutters. Late afternoon light streamed back into the room, showing the dirt on the floor and dead insects on the windowsills. Except for Nikki pretending to not be here, everyone turned to the painting. Studied and tense silence filled the room.

“Isn’t it nice to have you all gathered here,” a familiar raspy voice said from the door to the hallway. Adrenaline flushed my system, making my hands and feet cold, drying my mouth and bringing black panic into my peripheral view. Kubanov was here. He chuckled. “Just as I hoped.”

As one, Manny and Vinnie reached for their weapons. At the same moment Colin pushed me behind him, placing himself between me and Kubanov.

“Ah, ah, ah.” Kubanov’s warning reminded me of when he was in my bedroom. I looked around Colin to see what Kubanov was doing. He had a handgun in each hand, waving them for emphasis. He pointed one gun at Manny and one at Vinnie. “Drop those guns and kick them towards me.”

Manny and Vinnie hesitated. They were a few steps away from me, closer to Kubanov. I was looking at their backs and had no idea what was going on in their minds.

“Now!” Kubanov’s order echoed through the empty house. Nikki whimpered. She was standing frozen by the window. Alone. Kubanov stepped into the room. “Do it now or he gets it.”

He delivered his threat with a backwards nod, and Dukwicz walked into the room, pushing Phillip ahead of him. Dukwicz held a handgun in one hand, a semi-automatic machine gun slung over his shoulder. Phillip looked terrible. His bespoke suit jacket was missing a sleeve, his cheek was cut and his white shirt bloody from the wound still oozing a thin stream of blood down his jaw and neck. Oddly, his silk tie was still perfectly positioned. I had given that tie to Phillip on my first Christmas working for him.

Two loud clangs on the floor jerked my attention away from the tie. Manny and Vinnie kicked their guns towards Kubanov. He walked closer and kicked the guns to the far side of the room. “Okay, now you will all play nice with me. I want your phones. All mobile devices. On the floor and kick them towards me.”

My smartphone was still in my handbag in my viewing room, but all the others had brought theirs. One after the other smartphones fell to the floor and slid across the room towards Kubanov.

The shaking started in my hands. Then it moved up my arms, down my legs, through my torso. I had to bite down hard on my jaw to prevent my teeth from chattering.

Kubanov tilted his head to one side. “Genevieve?”

I hated the way he pronounced my name.

“She didn’t bring her phone,” Colin said.

“Did I ask you?” Kubanov asked, then turned around and hit Phillip across the face with the butt of the gun. A gash opened up on Phillip’s other cheek, blood running down his face. He grunted, but stood stiffly upright. Kubanov turned back to us, his guns trained on Manny and Colin. “No one speaks unless I ask them to. No one moves unless I instruct them to. Tell them what will happen, Dukwicz.”

“I will strangle this nice old man with his fancy tie.” Dukwicz’s
risorius
muscles stretched his lips into a cruel sneer. It lifted the already raised skin of his scar, filling his expression with malice. “I will do it slowly so you can watch every expression, Doctor Lenard. You like watching expressions, don’t you?”

Darkness closed in on me. I couldn’t afford to close my eyes, finding calm in Mozart. Phillip needed me. He looked at me, his expressions unguarded. He let me see his anger, his determination and his pride. That was enough for me to fight back the darkness to the very edges of my vision. I didn’t know what to do, but I would not let him down.

Kubanov had threatened Phillip’s life if anyone talked, but I needed Kubanov to talk. I needed to study his expressions. The little that I noticed through my haze of panic didn’t make sense. I also needed him to communicate so I could find a way to talk him out of executing whatever plan he had made.

“Stop thinking so hard, Genevieve. The two cops outside are sleeping nicely on the front lawn, so screaming for help is pointless. All the bushes, trees and large garden? The neighbours won’t hear you either. And GIPN is nicely occupied with their hostage situation. There is also a second situation—a bank robbery.” His smile didn’t look right. “Oh, don’t worry. It is a real hostage situation and a real bank robbery. I think one hostage has already been killed. You see, I’ve been planning this carefully. I didn’t want any interruptions.”

BOOK: 3 The Braque Connection
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