The Flinck Connection (Book 4) (Genevieve Lenard) (23 page)

“They know the art is hot, so they need to store it. In comes Savreux with the clever idea of a wine cellar that could double up as a preservation room. He rents it in his mother’s name… oh, wait. That doesn’t work with our timeline, right?”

I shook my head. Even though Colin’s theory sounded fictional, it was feasible.

“Oh well. At one point he rents it then. Back to my story. After the Boston heist, they don’t immediately move the art, because it’s too hot. A few years later, they move a piece or two, make shitloads of money and realise how easy it is. They start a whole art theft racket and that is where they get their large sums of money from. In order to clean that money, they start up the Libreville Dignity Foundation.”

“Wait.” I swallowed and continued whispering. “Mariam said one of the crimes she wanted the ICC to prosecute some Gabonese politicians for was art theft.”

“I see where you’re going with this,” Colin said when I took a sip of water. “It is possible that these five guys collaborated with their Gabonese cronies to move that art. Hey, maybe they even facilitated the theft and fencing of other artworks as well. Who knows?”

“That’s gross speculation.” But I didn’t dispute it.

“Can I continue the story? Can I?” Francine was bouncing in her chair and smiled widely when Colin nodded. “So when Raymond Godard became interested in politics right after the trial of the Elf politicians and executives, they got worried. He was young, dynamic and they knew him by reputation from their old legal company to always do everything by the book. They got particularly worried when he started talking about politicians being completely transparent in their finances. They
knew that someone at some point was going to notice their finances didn’t add up with their lifestyles. They needed to get rid of him. Barring assassination, what is the best way to destroy a politician? Damage his reputation. What better way to do it through his wife.

“They knew about her involvement in Gabon and saw an in. Ten years ago, they upped their involvement in LDF, knowing it would give them access to Isabelle Godard and a way to taint her. LDF’s account and the account they opened in her name could be used to build a strong case against her and the not-yet president. But then they discovered exactly how useful the charity’s account and Lili Lescot’s account were. They could get their dirty money here without anyone noticing and continued to do so for ten years. Until something happened two years ago that made Savreux lose interest in all his girlfriends, and made them all desperate.”

“What happened?” I asked. I was impressed that Francine remembered the change in Minister Savreux’s behaviour two years ago. I was even more impressed that her theory was viable.

She thought for a moment. “I don’t know.”

“Two years ago, Raymond Godard became president,” Colin said.

“Oh, my God. That would totally be it. With his policy for openness and honesty, his presidency would pose a vicious threat to their careers, all of their wealth, and all of their hidden secrets.”

“How do Gabon and Paul Ngondet fit into this? Do you think he was their contact for their art theft ring in Gabon?” I asked, looking at Colin.

“Hmm. Don’t know yet.” Colin lifted both shoulders. “That’s all I’ve got. Francine?”

“Nope. I’ve got nothing for Gabon and Ngondet. Unless you want to hear my other theories.” She smiled when everyone shook their heads.

“Even though there is very little proof to support your theory, it could work.”

“But it’s useless without concrete evidence, I know.” Colin smiled at me. “You’ll find it.”

“Sometimes it is useful to have a bunch of criminals helping on a case.” Manny was serious, none of his usual derision on his face or in his tone. “That is a strong theory, Frey. If Doc can find us what we need, and also who the photographer is, we can put this baby to bed.”

“There is much more we need to know.” I rapped my knuckles on the table for emphasis. “This will not be enough to close this case, Manny.”

“It will get us much closer, Doc.”

I wanted to continue arguing, but the knock at the front door caused us to turn as one. It was most uncommon to have visitors apart from the people already in my apartment. The knocking made it even more worrisome. Manny, Vinnie and Colin walked to the door. I wondered if I would ever open my own front door again. Their postures relaxed when Manny opened the door and Daniel walked in.

“Good morning.” His smile was genuine, but the lines around his mouth indicated strain. “Seems like I got everyone here. That’s good.”

“Do you also want food? This is not a restaurant, flatfoot.” Vinnie didn’t wait for Daniel to answer, but walked to the kitchen to prepare another omelette. Despite his complaining, I knew he enjoyed any excuse to be in the kitchen.

The rapport between Manny and Daniel was evident in their body language. There was mutual trust and respect. Manny invited Daniel to the table. It wasn’t the first time almost all of
the eight chairs at my large dining room table were occupied. I listened as Manny updated Daniel with our latest findings. At the mention of Isabelle Godard, Daniel’s entire body tensed. It was slight and lasted less than a second, but I noticed.

Vinnie put a plate in front of Daniel and sat down again, glaring at the two law enforcement officers. Not being expected to speak had the delightful side effect of being able to observe everyone. In the twenty minutes Daniel had been at our table, I had seen enough to have reached a conclusion. He ate quickly and soon moved the last of his food on his plate around with his fork.

I rapped my knuckles on the table and waited until he looked at me. “Why are you here? What’s wrong?”

Daniel pushed his plate away. “I’m here to arrest you.”

“Me?” I pointed at my chest. “Why?”

“Not only you, Genevieve. Everyone.”

An explosion of questions, outraged comments filled the air. I had to rap my knuckles hard on the table to get everyone to calm down. “Why?”

Daniel removed a folded document from the inside of his jacket and opened it. “For treason, conspiracy to commit mass crimes, terrorism, cyber-terrorism, and a few more. It’s all listed here.”

Francine started to say something, but I stopped her with a raised hand. I lifted both eyebrows and waited for Daniel to continue. His discomfort was not only in the muscle contractions around his mouth and eyes. He was also perspiring.

“One of you triggered an alert. Apparently someone googled something they shouldn’t have. They were able to trace the online crime to this apartment.”

“Impossible.” Francine was shaking her head so vigorously, her hair was slapping into her face. “No one would’ve been able to trace me. It’s simply not possible.”

The shifting in the chair across from me caught my eye. I looked at Nikki. “What did you do?”

“I wanted to help, so googled Isabelle Godard’s name in connection with Elf. I also looked for her connection to Savreux. That was it. I swear, Doc G.” Stress caused the muscles in her throat to contract, raising the pitch of her voice. The
corrugator supercilii
muscles brought her brow in and down in deep furrows, but I knew she was truthful.

I nodded, but it didn’t assuage her worries. Dealing with a young person was onerous at times. “Your actions caused problems, but your intentions were good. Those who care about you would be more concerned about your intentions.”

“What are
you
concerned about?” Her question revealed more than she might have realised.

I knew the importance of this moment, yet the emotionality of it and the many people here made it most unpleasant. I made sure to exhibit all the right nonverbal cues. I leaned over the table, made eye contact with her and put my hands on the table as if reaching for her. I took a deep breath. “Nikki, I care about you. I’m only concerned about your intentions. We will deal with the unfortunate results of your actions together.”

Colin squeezed my knee under the table and Nikki got tears in her eyes. “Thanks, Doc G. I’m really sorry.”

“I still have to arrest everyone,” Daniel said softly.

“That is ridiculous. How can they issue a blanket arrest warrant?” Manny took the document and read the contents. Of us all, he was most qualified to interpret it. He threw it on the table with a snort. “These are trumped-up charges and you know it, Daniel.”

“Of course I know it. That is why I volunteered to come and arrest these horrible terrorists who pretend to be honest people and solve cases for the president. I have to protect the president, our nation and the world’s right to freedom.”

I leaned closer to Colin. “He doesn’t make sense.”

My comment broke the tension around the table as everyone laughed softly.

“Sorry, Genevieve. I was being sarcastic. This is just so ridiculous.” Regret was around his mouth and eyes. “I still have to take someone in. If I don’t, they’re going to send in an entire team and then we’re all screwed.”

“Arrest me.” Nikki lifted her hand as if she was answering a question in a school class.

“Over my dead body.” Vinnie shifted his chair closer to Nikki’s. “You’re not going anywhere, punk.”

“Why not? The government will look like witch hunters the moment the media finds out that they arrested a sweet, innocent little art student on terrorism charges. It’s total discrimination, you know. Just because my daddy was a legendary criminal doesn’t mean that I am following in his footsteps.” Her voice took a tone as if she was speaking in public, appealing for their compassion and support. “What is happening to our freedom? To our ability to give young people a chance to cut their own path, to make their own way, to form their own identities.”

“Okay, punk. You’re making your point.” Vinnie turned to Daniel, his top lip raised. “If you arrest her, you better fucking arrest me too. She’s not going anywhere without me.”

“That is what I was hoping you’d say.” Daniel laughed at the deeper disgust on Vinnie’s face. “I appreciate that this isn’t easy for you, but at the moment you’re not essential to the team.”

“Well, ouch.” Vinnie crossed his arms. “Throw in a bit of emotional torture, will ya.”

“What I mean is that Manny has been keeping me in the loop with the case. At the moment, we need Francine, Genevieve, Colin and Manny on this case. They’re the ones who will put this all together. The two of you can build some street cred in jail while these guys save the free world.”

“Cool. Street cred. I have to go get dressed.” Nikki jumped up and looked at Francine. “What does one wear to jail?”

Francine shrugged. “Once I had on this gorgeous red Armani mini dress, the other time it was a red, sleeveless Vera Wang. Do you have something like that?”

Nikki stared at her for a few seconds. “I hate you.”

Francine laughed as Nikki stormed to her room. “She doesn’t realise how much work it takes to look like this. She’ll learn.”

“I don’t want to be here.” I didn’t say this to anyone specifically. The soundproof basement we were currently in was nothing like the safe environments I had created for myself. It was an unqualified violation of my need for a calm and organised space, the lack of street noise and other sounds notwithstanding.

“Are you in jail, missy?” Manny’s tone was curt.

“Obviously not.”

“Are you safe?”

We had all agreed that staying in my apartment or going to Rousseau & Rousseau might result in more arrests. Francine had not been overly enthusiastic, but this had been her surprising last-minute option. Our journey here had been covert, our entry into the basement unseen by anyone.

When we had entered this place, I had been relieved to see it was relatively clean. It even had a lived-in feeling. Heavy woven rugs covered the floor. Three of the four walls were covered in framed posters, adding to the atmosphere. With no natural light reaching the room, most of the lighting came from numerous floor lamps, creating a warm and homey ambience. It could have been a pleasant working space had it not been for overwhelming clutter. A tower of books stacked next to a leather sofa looked like it was about to fall over. My throat tightened, and it wasn’t because of the damage sustained from my screaming.

A workstation was set up against the far wall. Not much of the wall was visible under the many notes, articles, and other things tacked to it. Despite the panic-inducing disorder, there was thankfully no dust to be detected anywhere.

This basement was part of a building in an area of the city I had never been in. It was an old apartment building with small shops, a bistro and a dry-cleaner occupying the entire ground floor. I estimated the basement to take up at least half of the floor space. Francine had proudly stated that the room had been completely soundproofed, using the same methods some better nightclubs did.

I looked around. The underground room was large and in complete chaos. There seemed to be some sort of order, but the clutter was distracting me from finding a system in which it was organised. It appeared that all available surfaces to the left of the basement were covered in computer parts. Under those tables were boxes with more parts, wires hanging over the edges of the boxes. To the right were two long tables overflowing with maps, opened and unopened books, numerous notepads with curled pages, and a disturbing number of other loose papers.

“Yes, I’m safe.” But my compulsive need to put this place into order was becoming stronger by the minute.

“Do you have everything you need here?”

“Yes.”

“Then stop your whining about supermodel’s dungeon and get to it.”

Colin coughed and I was too slow to see if it had been a real cough or an attempt to hide another reaction. Francine wasn’t hiding her reaction. She placed her hands on her hips, thumbs pointing to the back. She was going to argue.

“This is not a dungeon. It is my workspace and I don’t want you here.”

“Where can I sit?” I was clutching my computer bag to my chest. In it were my laptop, my notepad and three pens. I couldn’t imagine putting anything down on these surfaces.

“Clear a space anywhere, girlfriend.” She didn’t look away from the four computers she was working on simultaneously. “Or let Colin do it.”

“I can clear anywhere?” Colin asked.

“Sure. Just don’t break anything.”

Colin looked around and settled on a large wooden table to the right of the room. The top wasn’t visible under the layers of paper, maps and books. He walked to the table, tilted his head, and swiped everything from the table. It landed in a disturbing heap on the floor, and I swallowed down my desire to rush over and organise the papers into neat, logical piles.

“Jenny?”

I nodded stiffly and within minutes had my laptop running and the notepad neatly aligned in front of it. My three pens were lined up to the right of my laptop.

Francine stood up and walked to me. “Give me a few seconds and I’ll connect you to my network here. Then we’ll be good to go. No one will trace us here.”

I got out of the chair and clenched my hands into tight fists when she moved the computer to the left. Just as I exhaled a controlled breath, an alarm that sounded like an air-raid siren blared from her computer. I folded my arms tightly and stared at the red lights above her computer flickering on and off. “What’s happening?”

“Oh, my God.” She jumped up and ran to her computers. “Someone’s breaching my security.”

“Someone’s hacking you?” Manny asked.

“No. Someone is physically breaching my security. Look here.” She sat down and pointed at one of the monitors. “There they are.”

“Who is it? How did they know we are here? I thought you said we would be safe here.” I didn’t think they could hear my whispers above the siren. I took a step closer to Colin, irrationally moving away from the computer monitors. Had the police located us? The memory of spending a night in a police interrogation room flooded my mind, and the dark edges of panic filled my peripheral vision.

“We are safe.” Manny leaned over Francine to get closer to the monitor. “It’s Daniel.”

I stepped closer and realised I was clutching Colin’s hand. I let it go and held my hands in front of me. The video image on the monitor was of superb quality and it was easy to recognise Daniel. “He’s not alone.”

“How do they know where we are?” Francine said as Daniel lifted his fist and knocked on the basement door. The sound was loud not only on the monitor, but also seven meters from where we were standing.

Daniel looked around until he noticed the camera and looked directly into it. “Let us in.”

“I told him where we are.” Manny straightened. “I’ll let him in.”

Francine’s face had lost colour. Her chin quivered as she stood and faced Manny. “How dare you? I brought you here as a show of trust. This is my place. My secret place. I’ve never had anyone in here before. I trusted you with my secret place and you invited Daniel? He’s going to arrest me for all of these things.”

Her arm swept in a wide arc to include the room. Manny took a step closer to her. He was the same height as her, and he looked her in the eye. “I know, supermodel. I know you trusted us. Now let me do my job with people
I
trust, so that we won’t have to move into your dungeon forever.”

Even though his words weren’t diplomatic, his tone was gentle. They stared at each other for a few seconds until Francine nodded tightly. “So help me, Manny. If I land in jail, I’ll find a way to make you suffer for it.”

“Oh, I’m sure you will.” Manny walked to the door and let the visitors in. While Manny and Francine had been in their visual power-struggle, I had studied the people waiting outside. That was why I wasn’t surprised when Daniel was followed by Pink, Luc and Mrs Isabelle Godard, the president’s wife.

Francine was right behind Manny, her posture confrontational. Her muscles stiffened when she saw Isabelle. Francine stopped and stared open-mouthed as the president’s wife walked into the basement. Close up it was easy to identify her, despite the woollen hat pulled low over her brow and the oversized winter coat. Daniel was similarly disguised. Luc had pushed the large hood of his coat off his head when he stepped into the basement. He had a backpack slung over his shoulder and a leather briefcase in one hand.

“What a charming place.” Isabelle looked at Manny. “We meet again, Colonel Millard.”

“So we do, Madame Godard. A pity it is under such circumstances.”

The shift in Luc’s body language drew my attention. He exhaled angrily. “She should not be meeting you at all.”

“Oh, pooh, Luc.” Isabelle waved her hand towards the tall man. “He huffed and puffed all the way here.”

Francine was still staring at Isabelle. She managed to school her features to something less awed, but she was unsuccessful in completely masking her wonderment. Isabelle turned to Francine and extended her hand. “Hi. I’m Isabelle Godard.”

Francine stared at Isabelle’s hand for a few seconds before grabbing it and shaking it enthusiastically. “Hi! Oh, my God. You are Mrs Godard. I’m a huge fan. Like a really huge fan.
I’ve been following your work for many years now. In a non-stalkerish way, of course. But you are just amazing. Oh, wow. Isabelle Godard.”

Isabelle laughed lightly, not pulling her hand back. “I know who I am. Who are you?”

“Oh. Yes.” Francine released Isabelle’s hand and cradled her own as if she wanted to protect the hand with which she had touched the president’s wife. “I’m Francine. This is my humble abode. Please come in. And please forgive the mess. I was not expecting guests.”

Manny was looking at Francine as if seeing her for the first time. He shook his head in disbelief when the two women walked towards us.

“Are you sure it’s safe here, Colonel?” Luc asked Manny.

“Just call me Manny. Everyone else does.” Manny opened his jacket to reveal a gun holster attached to his hip. He nodded at the bulge under Luc’s left arm and then nodded towards Daniel. “With all this firepower, we are safe. Unless you were followed here?”

“Definitely not.” Daniel shook his head a few times. “We came here with Luc’s niece’s car. It’s a tiny little thing that was easy to cut through traffic. We also left all our usual electronics at home in case they could track our GPS.”

“They would not get you if you’re down here.” Francine turned back to the men. “I’ve got it set up to scramble signals of all sorts.”

“Sweet.” Pink looked around the basement, admiration clear on his face. “You have a Scooby-Doo set-up here, girl. What system are you running?”

“Who are you?” Francine stood protectively in front of her computers.

“Pink. I’m the IT tech in Daniel’s team. I hope to help if you would let me. I reckon two super-brains are better than one, right?”

Francine glared at him for a few more seconds.

“He’s good stock, supermodel. Let him help.”

“Supermodel?” Pink glanced at Manny and looked back at Francine with a wide smile. “It fits. You’re gorgeous.”

“I’ll eat you for breakfast, little man,” Francine said, looking up at Pink. She glared at him a moment longer, sat down and pointed towards the rest of the basement. “Find a chair. My name is Francine. Or you can call me your highness.”

I was quietly watching this new development unfold in front of me. There were too many people talking for my whispers to be heard, so I did what I enjoyed most. I observed.

“Madame Godard, what are you doing here?” Manny didn’t disguise his displeasure when he looked at Daniel. “I told you where we were in case of emergencies.”

“Oh, don’t fight with him, Colonel.” She frowned. “May I call you Manny? Colonel is so formal. And please call me Isabelle. We’re just a bunch of friends trying to sort out a looming disaster.”

Manny stared at Isabelle.

“Aha. You’re one of those. Yeah, Luc’s like that too. I’m immune to staring, so you can stop. Just ask Luc. He’s been trying that since we studied together.”

“I tried to stop her from coming,” Luc said. “Daniel and I have cooperated a few times in the past. He contacted me a few hours ago and told me about your findings. I then made the huge mistake of telling her about it. Then she insisted on meeting you. When she starts, there’s no changing her mind.”

“I think I can help, Manny.” Isabelle pointed to the backpack on Luc’s back. “This might help you discover who wants you
arrested and so prevent you from investigating Minister Savreux’s death and everything connected to it.”

Manny looked at Daniel. “Did you find out where the order for our arrests came from?”

“It filtered down so far through the chain of command that I didn’t want to attract attention by asking too many questions.”

“It’s that little Henri Fabron.” The intense dislike and disrespect accompanying Manny’s words took me by surprise. “I don’t know what that little shit is up to, but he’s playing games.”

I couldn’t stay out of the conversation any longer. I stomped my foot on the floor until I had everyone’s attention. “It’s not Henri.”

“Oh, Genevieve!” Isabelle’s voice was high with concern as she walked to me. “You sound terrible. Is your voice terribly damaged?”

I shook my head.

“She’s not supposed to be speaking at all.” Colin offered his hand. He had met the president and his wife a year ago. “Colin Frey. Pleased to meet you again.”

“Colin? Oh.” She drew out the syllable and shook Colin’s hand. “Genevieve talks about you a lot. Please call me Isabelle.”

Colin managed to maintain his controlled expressions, but I had seen the shock, followed by pleasure when Isabelle had said I talked about him. I
had
talked about him—about his expertise in the art world. I didn’t understand why she had read more into that. Or what he was reading into it. Those had been purely professional observations about him and his knowledge.

“Have you been told about the photo?” I asked Isabelle. I didn’t feel comfortable with the gentle look on Colin’s face. I wanted our focus to be on emotionally safe topics.