The Courbet Connection (Book 5) (Genevieve Lenard) (19 page)

I stared at the monitor, not able to take my eyes off the screen. A deep breath later, I opened the auction video with the letters and numbers on the monitor next to the one with the search results. “Look at the medical terms for organs. The root word for liver is hepato-, for heart is cardio-, for kidney is nephro-, for lungs is pneumo- or pulmo-. Now look at the items being auctioned. First on the list was Ca, second Pn. I think we can safely infer that Ne1 and Ne2 were the two kidneys.”

“Holy shit.”

“Give me a minute.” I took my notepad and one of the three pens next to it and wrote down the numbers that were written under Matthieu’s profile. It didn’t take me long to decrypt the inferior attempt at a code. “Those numbers are his height, weight, age, blood group, and HIV status.”

“Then I assume the numbers next to the letters must be some kind of test result for each organ?” Colin asked.

I used the same decoding method for those numbers. It only took two minutes. Another quick search on the internet and I had confirmation. “Full results for a liver function test require readings on the total protein in the blood, platelet count, albumin levels, bilirubin, alanine transaminase—”

“We can see that, Doc.” Manny looked pointedly at the medical page I was reading from. “There are nine tests described in disgusting detail, and next to Matthieu’s liver code are nine different numbers. Those must be the test results.”

“So these savages can see if the liver is healthy enough to buy.” Colin’s top lip curled, his breathing harsh from anger.

“I can’t believe people would do that to each other.” Francine’s whisper drew our attention to the door. She was staring at the monitors, her hand pressed over her suprasternal notch.

“Believe it, supermodel. Every year people from developed countries illegally buy the organs of people from undeveloped countries. The industry is worth over a billion dollars. In the US and other countries, the demand for lungs, kidneys and livers far outweighs the supply. Here in Europe, the asking price for a lung is over three hundred thousand dollars.”

“I’ve read that the average price paid by a kidney buyer is a hundred and fifty thousand dollars. The person whose kidney is removed receives on average five thousand dollars.” I remember the horror that had filled me when I’d read that article.

“This case is making me doubt the future of humanity.” Francine’s voice trembled. “We should allow the computers to take over. Or the aliens.”

“Really? You’re going with your stupid conspiracy theories? Don’t you have something useful for us or are you just going to stand there and look pretty, supermodel?” Manny was baiting Francine, but I’d seen the concern on his face.

It worked. Francine flipped her long hair over her shoulder and straightened. She slowly wiped her palms down the sides of her fitted cream dress. “You think I’m pretty? Pah! What a stupid question. Of course you think I’m gorgeous.”

“Only in your dreams, supermodel.”

“Manny.” She walked to him and tapped on his shoulder with a manicured purple nail. “You protest too much. If you didn’t find me so irresistible, you wouldn’t have worn the clothes we bought yesterday.”

“Wearing new clothes has nothing to do with…” Manny slapped her hand away, his cheeks turning red. “Get away from me. Go stand over there and tell us if you found something useful.”

She laughed and gave him an exaggerated wink. “I knew this shirt would look good on you.”

Manny was wearing dark brown pants and a tailored striped shirt. Despite his stubble and disapproving frown, he looked elegant. He lowered his brow and glared at Francine. “Do you have something for us, supermodel?”

“Sadly, I do.” The laughter left her face and she reached for my keyboard. “May I?”

“No. You are all crowding me. We can do this in the team room.”

She froze, then pulled her hands back slowly. “No probs, girlfriend. Let’s go.”

A minute later we were seated at the round table and Francine was tapping on her tablet. “I went through Dukwicz’s computer and couldn’t find any other auction videos. There was nothing else of interest on his computer itself, but his history makes for fabulous fodder. My God, the man watches a lot of porn.”

“Supermodel...”

“He does! But that’s not really important. Just interesting.” She finished tapping and looked up at the screen against the wall. “I followed his digital footprint to see what he’d been looking at on the internet. I found the site where the auction took place.”

“Why the bleeding hell didn’t you start with that?” Manny leaned forward, his eyes on the screen. “Can we trace this? Can we find these bastards?”

“No.” She splayed her fingers, tightened them into a fist and splayed them again. It felt like my whole body was in a tight knot. Francine likely experienced the same. “I tried, but this is the success of Tor. Routing it through so many different layers makes it extremely improbable to find the original IP address. But it’s not impossible. I’m not giving up. I’m going to find a way to get a virus in there to give me access.”

“I know you will.” The sincerity in his acknowledgement relieved some of the tightness around Francine’s eyes and mouth. Manny nodded to her tablet. “What are we looking at?”

On the screen was a large digital clock, counting down from forty-seven hours and fifteen minutes.

“This is the auction site. All evidence from Matthieu’s abduction has been removed. This is all there is. Since I have full access to Dukwicz’s email now, I checked it for anything to tell me what the countdown is for.” She tapped again and another window opened on the screen. “This email came to him with details of another auction in two days.”

It was disappointing to read the email. There was no added information to give any indication of the person who had sent it. It was simply an announcement of a date and time. And a row of numbers at the bottom. I rushed to my viewing room, grabbed my notepad and pen and came back. Nobody spoke while I noted down the numbers and decoded it with the simplistic encryption used for the organs.

As soon as I’d written all the words on my notepad, the familiar tightness closed in around my chest again. I threw my notepad on the table, closed my eyes and focussed on Mozart’s Minuet in C major. Despite my knowledge of criminal psychology, I didn’t want to believe that humans could be this barbaric.

“What does it say, Frey?”

Paper rustled. Colin had picked up my notepad. He grunted. “Four specimens in complete health. Details go up an hour before start.”

“Dear God,” Francine said. “What now?”

After a deep breath and another two bars of the Minuet, I opened my eyes. “What about the second auction? We’ve determined that the first auction was for Matthieu’s organs. In this email, they are referring to health, which leads me to assume this will also be for organs. What part of Matthieu did they sell in the second auction? Was it sex? What?”

It was quiet in the team room.

“Did Dukwicz get an email about a second auction?” I asked.

“No. Wait. He got one that was weird.” Again she tapped on her tablet until another email filled the screen. “This one says, ‘You’re up on the eighth. Four for four.’”

“What the hell does that mean?” Manny looked at me.

I thought about this for a minute. “I don’t know.”

“Supermodel? Any speculation?” Manny had to be desperate to ask Francine for one of her outrageous theories. She only shook her head. “Can you at least find Dukwicz? You have access to his computer now. Surely you can locate him.”

“As soon as the virus got into this computer, I—”

“Plain English,” Manny said.

“I copied his computer. Everything that was on his computer, I now have. I did this in case he went offline and I couldn’t switch it on remotely. And that’s exactly what’s happened. Either he disconnected from the internet, he’s out of wireless range, the computer’s battery went flat or he took the battery out. For the last eight hours I haven’t had any access to his computer. I did track his previous wireless connections and he’s currently in Strasbourg.”

“He’s here?” Fear raised the pitch of my voice.

“I already told Vinnie.” Francine blinked rapidly, her face a shade paler. She was also scared. “He told Daniel and they’re working on a plan of action.”

“What kind of plan of action?” Manny asked.

“For protection, he said. He should be back soon and can tell you himself.”

I resented the fear that paralysed my muscles. Dukwicz had been a part of my life for the last year. Every interaction I’d had with him had been violent and traumatic. To know that he was in such close proximity took away the sense of safety I’d been experiencing for the last few months. Had I been deluding myself? Had I allowed time to create sufficient distance to convince myself the threat was not so great?

I got up, my movements stilted. “I need to work. Leave me alone.”

Hoping they would respect my acute need to lose myself in a few hours of research, I walked to my viewing room, closed the door and sat down in the silent, soundproof room. I didn’t know how long I just sat there, but eventually I turned to my computer, chose the Mozart playlist I’d created especially to enhance my concentration and opened the search engine.

“Doctor Lenard! Doctor Lenard!” Caelan’s shrill shouts jerked me out of my latest discovery. I turned with a frown to the glass door that was supposed to be sealed. I’d been in front of my computer for the last five hours and had only taken a short break for lunch. When I’d returned to my room, I’d made a point of closing the glass door to ensure soundproof silence. Now the door was slightly ajar, allowing Caelan’s voice to reach me. “There were two volcanic eruptions in the continental USA during the twentieth century! Doctor Lenard!”

A soft snort behind me caught my attention. I wasn’t surprised to find Nikki on the floor between two filing cabinets. I’d been completely absorbed in looking for more possible kidnapping victims and going through every second of the auction videos. The videos hadn’t brought much more information. I had studied Matthieu’s body language, the numbers and the bids in detail, hoping for some clues. Nothing new had come up, so I’d returned to looking for missing students who fitted the profile.

I wondered how long Nikki had been sitting there, drawing. “Why are you here?”

“Vinnie wouldn’t let me go into the city, go to the library, stay at home or go to the movies.” She hugged her sketchpad to her chest. “He didn’t even tell me why. When I refused, the crazy man threw me over his shoulder and forcibly brought me here.”

“He couldn’t have thrown you over his shoulder. That would mean you’d have cleared his shoulder and landed on the floor behind him.”

She burst out laughing, the tension in her body easing. “You know, you’re right. I never thought about it like that. Hmm. That makes it a really silly saying.”

“Doctor Lenard! Zana twenty-two Dactor thirty-one seventy-eight!”

“You can’t just go in there, Caelan.” Tim tried to infuse calm into his voice, but all I heard was exasperation. Phillip’s assistant had proven himself in the last year to be a reliable asset to the company. However, it sounded like this current situation was challenging his skills.

“Doctor Lenard! Zana twenty-two Dactor thirty-one seventy-eight! Your people are incompetent! The most powerful tornadoes occur in the US!”

“Is that Caelan? What’s he talking about?” Nikki leaned forward to look around the cabinet. “And why is he here?”

“Yes, it’s Caelan.” I sighed. “I don’t know what he’s talking about. I hope Francine will stop him.”

Whenever a connection was looming in my mind, I felt restless, discomfited. A feeling that was now overwhelming me. Something had registered in the last five minutes that I needed to consciously process and analyse. I turned back to face the monitors, but Caelan continued to intrude. When he wasn’t calling for me or stating facts, he was repeating the odd-sounding phrase.

Francine’s murmurs blended with Tim’s in an unsuccessful attempt to reason with the young man. He was relentless in his demands and repetitions. Then, as if someone had switched on a light, I felt it. The connection clicked in my mind. I jumped up and walked into the team room. Caelan was standing in the corner, on the far side of the round table, bouncing his back off
the wall. Tim was standing in the doorway, his body language and expression communicating his confusion and discomfort. Francine was sitting at her desk, eyes wide.

“I couldn’t stop him, Doctor Lenard.” Tim swallowed. “I don’t know what to do with him.”

“It’s okay, Tim,” Francine said. “Genevieve will handle him.”

“Oh, thank God. I’m so out of here.” He didn’t wait another second and fled down the hallway, favouring his right.

“Glaciers store twenty-five percent of the Earth’s fresh water! Zana twenty-two Dactor thirty-one seventy-eight! Incompetent people!” Caelan was becoming more agitated, bouncing harder against the wall. I sat down at the table, far enough from Caelan not to crowd him. I spent a few moments considering my approach and sighed.

“Caelan, take a deep breath. Focus on your breathing.” I kept my tone firm, but gentle. “Take a deep breath and slowly exhale.”