The Courbet Connection (Book 5) (Genevieve Lenard) (2 page)

When the glass door to my viewing room silently slid open a few minutes later, I sighed heavily and swivelled my chair to face Phillip. As usual, my boss was dressed in a bespoke suit, his appearance immaculate and appropriate for the CEO of a high-end insurance company. He walked closer and looked down at me. “He’s ready to talk.”

“I don’t want to talk to him. He’s rude and abrasive.”

Phillip raised one eyebrow and just looked at me. I knew that look. This man had become the father I’d never had. After working together for eight years, he had my respect. When he looked at me like he did now, I paid attention. It was his way of telling me to reconsider the position I’d taken on a topic. For a few seconds I did just that.

My shoulders dropped a little and I briefly closed my eyes. “I try really hard not to be rude and abrasive.”

“And you succeed more and more every day.” He lowered his chin to give me his serious look. “Of all people, you should empathise with Caelan.”

“Who’s Caelan?”

“The young man wanting to speak to you. He refused to give us his surname, and is now waiting for you in the conference room.”

“Why do you want me to speak to him?” I lifted both shoulders. “I’m not the people person here. You have a natural ability to put people at ease. Francine will quickly connect with him on some level. I’m sure Tim would also do much better than I would.”

I’d watched Francine, our IT specialist and my only female friend, gain the trust of waiters, shop assistants and complete strangers on the street. Tim was Phillip’s assistant and it was his job to build rapport with strangers.

“I don’t have your ability to read people. I also don’t have your personal understanding of what Caelan is experiencing. He needs care, Genevieve. I’m sure you saw that.” Phillip pulled his shoulders back, the posture he employed when he was finalising his negotiations with clients. “At some point in our lives, everyone needs to be given a chance. I’m asking you to give Caelan one. Listen to what he has to say, please.”

Phillip was the one who’d given me a chance. Despite my lack of interpersonal skills, he had employed me, giving me the first opportunity to be completely independent. I thought about affording people chances some more. “Did someone give you a chance?”

“Yes. Many years ago. I’ll tell you about it one day. Right now, we have a young man who needs you.”

I nodded once and followed Phillip to the conference room. Vinnie was standing by the door, his irritation clear in his lowered brows, his hands on his hips, and his broadened chest. Manny sat slumped in a chair as if he didn’t care. I knew this to merely be an illusion.

Caelan was sitting in the chair furthest from the door, hugging his knees to his chest and gently rocking. It took him a few seconds to stop rocking and straighten when he saw me enter the room.

He looked at my shoulder. “You’ll listen to me?”

“Yes.” I walked deeper into the room and sat down three chairs away from him. I studied him for a few seconds. I needed that time to decide on my approach. “What is your IQ?”

“Hundred and forty-three.”

“Lower than mine.”

“I know. You are considered the most proficient in nonverbal communication analysis. Every paper you’ve ever written on the topic is an academic achievement and used in most universities in the world. There are also three Facebook pages dedicated to your lectures and articles.”

“I have Facebook pages?”

“Three.”

“Oh.”

It was silent in the conference room for a while.

“It is because of your achievements that I’m here. I know that you are working in a team supervised by the president of France. I know that the old guy is Colonel Manfred Millard, an Interpol agent. The big, scarred dude is your criminal liaison, and you have a thief and a hacker working for you as well.”

Manny’s muscle tension increased significantly, Vinnie’s posture became more threatening. After two years, I no longer noticed the long, ragged scar running down the left side of
Vinnie’s face. Francine had told me it made Vinnie look more dangerous and intimidating to most people.

“How do you know this?” I kept my tone low, even though tension tightened my vocal cords.

Caelan pressed his lips together. People on the spectrum were seldom good liars. Unless I used my in-depth knowledge on deception, I was a remarkably unsuccessful liar. Telling the truth was a strong compulsion I often had to control in order to not give offence.

I was watching these typical autistic traits in Caelan. The expression on his face led me to believe he was finding it hard not to give in to his need to tell the truth. For some reason he didn’t want to share how he knew so much about us.

“If your IQ is what you claim it to be, you’ll see the dilemma you’re in.” I ignored his quick intake of breath when I questioned his IQ. “You came to us for some reason. I can only assume that you want or need some help. Yet you insist on being rude, on not co-operating.”

“I wasn’t being rude. I just didn’t answer.”

“Which is rude.” Vinnie folded his arms, his top lip slightly curled.

I pointed at Vinnie’s bulging arms. “See his posture? Vinnie’s nonverbal cues tell me that he doesn’t trust you, he would like to get the truth from you in some aggressive manner, and he sees you as a threat to our team.”

“You can’t make me talk!” Caelan pulled his legs up and hugged his knees tightly against his chest. “I won’t tell you anything.”

Phillip lifted one hand when both Vinnie and Manny inhaled to question Caelan. He leaned forward, resting his hands on the table. “You came to us, Caelan. Unless you offer something worth our time and attention, your side of the negotiation doesn’t carry much power.”

Caelan looked at Phillip’s shoulder for a few seconds. I watched his expression alter slightly to one of respect. As he inhaled to speak, Vinnie stepped forward. I was used to his tall, muscular frame and sometimes forgot how frightening he could appear. The fear flooding Caelan’s face was a strong reminder of Vinnie’s intimidation skills.

“Listen, you little twerp. You think you’re so smart, but I’m beginning to think that you lied about your IQ.” It wasn’t only Vinnie’s tone, but this outrageous statement that made me look at him in surprise. I registered his modified shrug and his hand rubbing his neck. Vinnie was lying. “I also think that you pretend to be older than you really are. I reckon you’re a fourteen-year-old loser who’s been kicked out of school for missing too many classes, not showering and failing a few exams. Your teachers know what you don’t seem to accept. That you’re average. An average little kid with average grades and a bad attitude.”

My
masseter
muscles slackened, causing my bottom jaw to drop slightly. Vinnie was manipulating Caelan with worrying success. The young man’s distress was reaching levels high enough to make him utter an involuntary keen. His eyes were growing wider, he was chewing his bottom lip and he was rocking in the chair.

It disturbed me greatly to watch someone so young in such emotional anguish. I was equally horrified that Manny and Phillip hadn’t stepped in. Just as I leaned forward, Caelan jumped out of the chair. He took a step towards Vinnie, glaring at his shoulder. “It’s not true, you… you… big man! You only wish you had an IQ as high as mine. At least then you could see that I am at the very least sixteen years old, but because of my smaller build, you would know I am seventeen. But your average IQ is not allowing you to see this, is it?”

Vinnie shrugged. “I don’t believe you. Your teachers will confirm my suspicions, I’m sure.”

“Teachers! Hah!” Caelan wiped his mouth on his grimy sleeve. “My teachers were so scared of my intellect that they
avoided me. I was teaching
them
math. They couldn’t teach me anything else, so I left.”

“And ran to Mommy?” Vinnie rolled his eyes. “Loser.”

“My mom only cares about her gin, my dad about his football. I’m sure they didn’t even notice I was gone until a week after I left.”

“So you’ve been on your own for a whole week? Like I would believe that.” Vinnie’s method was becoming clear to me and I felt conflicted. It was commendable that he had managed to gain so much information from Caelan in such a short time. I just didn’t feel comfortable with his technique.

“You really are stupid! I’ve been on my own for three years now. See! You don’t know anything. I’ve been living alone, without parents and teachers who didn’t care and knew nothing.”

Vinnie leaned back, smirking. “Hey, at least I can switch on a computer. More than you can do, I’m sure.”

“I can drain your bank account faster than you can write an SMS on your antiquated cell phone. How do you think I found you? I will agree that my hacking skills do not equal those of Francine, but I’m good enough to know her name. And to know that you should do an extra spell check when you send emails.” Caelan turned to me. “How do you work with such imbeciles?”

I felt uncommon sympathy for this young man. “Take a moment and think about the last few minutes before you call Vinnie an imbecile. What has he achieved?”

For two minutes I observed Caelan processing his conversation with Vinnie. His nonverbal cues were not the same as neurotypical people’s, but it was easy to see when realisation came to him. He looked up at Vinnie, his eyes large, this time with respect. “Brilliantly devious. Teach me to do that.”

“Oh, no, bucko. You’re a menace enough as it is.” Vinnie pulled out a chair and sat down.

“Now that we know a little more about you, tell us why you are here, lad.” Manny’s tone was as relaxed as his slouched posture. Yet I saw the calculation around his eyes and mouth.

Caelan stared at the wall behind me for a few seconds before he sat down, his posture not as confident as before. “Promise you won’t kick me out.”

“I can promise you that,” Phillip said. “We don’t kick people out.”

“You are the big boss who deals with stolen art, right?”

“Yes, I own this company.”

“And you let a thief work for you.”

“Don’t be rude.” Vinnie’s fierce loyalty towards Colin elicited a gentle feeling in my chest. Colin didn’t call himself a thief. He insisted that he merely reappropriated art and other objects. I maintained taking something that didn’t belong to you was stealing.

I returned my focus to Caelan. “What do you want to tell me?”

Caelan pulled his shoulders back. “In the last fifteen months, I’ve seen fifteen paintings being sold on the dark net. I’m not as good an expert as Colin, but I feel confident that they are superior forgeries of paintings that are listed as stolen.”

Phillip’s body tensed. “What paintings?”

“If I tell you, you’ll let me stay?”

“What do you mean by ‘stay’?” Vinnie asked. I had explained to him about the literal thinking of those on the spectrum. Even I was concerned that Caelan intended to move in, either here at Rousseau & Rousseau or at one of our homes.

“Stay on the case.” Caelan’s expression showed he’d lost some respect for Vinnie because of the inane question. “I want to help you solve this case.”

“No.” It had taken me two years to be comfortable working with other people. I was not going to allow a stranger, a neglected young man, into my professional life.

Phillip looked at me until I paid attention to his expression. He respected my opinion, but was curious about Caelan’s information. Phillip blinked to break eye contact with me and turned to Caelan. “If you can help Rousseau & Rousseau track down forged art, we might consider—”

“Yay! I’m part of the team.” Caelan’s expression lightened.

“Not yet, lad.” Manny sat up, his expression distrustful. “What paintings were sold? And what is the dark net?”

“Ask Francine what the dark net is. She’ll know. And she’ll know how to explain it to old people. I’ll just make you angry.”

“You’re making me angry now.”

“Oh.”

“What paintings?” Manny asked through his teeth.

“There was a Jean Désiré Gustave Courbet.” Caelan looked at my shoulder. “Tell Colin it was the
Full Standing Figure of a Man
. He’ll know what it implies.”

Having limited insight into the workings of his mind, I studied his nonverbal cues for a few seconds. “You are proud of yourself.”

“I’m part of a team.”

“It’s more than that. What are you so proud of?”

Caelan took his time to answer. He looked at my shoulder, biting his lips. “Normal people trade information.”

I inhaled sharply at his unspoken desire to be normal. Had no one ever told him ‘normal’ is an undefinable concept? An ideal unattainable for most? Accepting one’s uniqueness was the true art of living a fulfilled life. I brought my thoughts back
to the last part of his statement. “What do you want to trade it for?”

“Time with you. Not just you. The whole team. I want to spend time with you.”

I was about to immediately dispel that notion, but Phillip interrupted me. “As a team, we need to discuss this. Surely you can understand that. If you are going to help on this case, if you want to be part of the team, everyone will have to agree to this.”