The Taming of the Thief (25 page)

 
   
 
“Mr. Sauvage,”
Detective Bryant hovered next to Pietr's emergency room cubicle, disapproval in
his expression. “Just let them do their job. You lost quite a bit of blood and
you were out for about ten minutes.”

 
   
 
“Detective, I can afford the best doctors and
they can all yell at me later after we've gotten Sophie back. Why are you still
here? Why aren't you questioning the kidnapper?”

 
   
 
“Because he lawyered up and until his lawyer
arrives, our hands are tied. I need to know what you remember.”

 
   
 
Pietr
transferred his glare to the detective. Unbelievable that the law would protect
someone that assaulted two men and kidnapped a woman.
His
woman.

 
   
 
“Give
me five minutes with him.” Pietr suggested. “I'll figure out where they've
taken her.”

 
   
 
“Mr.
Sauvage, I understand you’re upset,” the man's sympathy did little to soften
the brisk, professional tone. “But I'm also sure you're keeping a lot of
details to yourself, details that could help us figure out what is going on and
why Ms. Kingston is a target. So if you don't want to rest, start at the
beginning and tell me everything you remember.”

 
   
 
Viktor and Jacques were already trying to
trace the car that had zipped away with Sophie inside of it. Viktor had taken
down one of the assailants, but the second had still managed to elude them,
taking Sophie with him.

 
   
 
She
was alone, scared and in the hands of men who would do God only knew what.
Viktor said she'd been conscious, fighting like hell and had even sent a bullet
wide when the gunman had tried to shoot him.

 
   
 
The
nurse taped his shoulder. The bullet had been a through and through. They
called him quite fortunate, because it hadn't hit bone or torn muscle on its
path through his shoulder. Pietr would have preferred losing the arm to losing
Sophie.

 
   
 
He
was hardly that lucky.

 
   
 
“Mr.
Sauvage. I can take you down to the station and hold you if you refuse to
cooperate.”

 
   
 
“On what charges?”
Edgington appeared at the side of the
bed, the attorney looked impeccable despite having been dragged across town.
“Detective, you keep treating my clients like the perpetrators when, once
again, it's clear he's the victim.”

 
   
 
“Nothing about this case is clear.” The
Detective's frustration and ire turned on the attorney. “Your client is
withholding information.”

 
   
 
“What
are you basing the supposition on?”

 
   
 
“The museum.”
Pietr snapped. “Take men to the museum and
check the vaults where Sophie was working a couple of days ago.”

 
   
 
“Why
would a kidnapper take her to the museum?” The Detective redirected his
attention to Pietr, but Pietr ignored the man as he slid off the bed. The room
trembled under his feet, but he forced himself to think past the dizzying
nausea that swamped him. He'd deal with the blood loss later, when he held
Sophie safe.

 
   
 
“Because he wants something that's there.
This mess began
there.”

 
   
 
“With Doctor Hinkley's shooting.”
The Detective responded
flatly, moving to block Pietr's exit from the triage area.

 
   
 
“Yes,” Pietr drew himself up and met the
Detective's gaze. “The shooting Sophie witnessed.”

 
   
 
“His
body turned up in the East River this morning. I was actually on my way to your
hotel when the shooting call came in.” The Detective's tone was mild, but Pietr
saw the suspicion flickering in his gaze.

 
   
 
“Great. Then you know Sophie told the truth about
the shooting.” He grabbed a shirt with his good arm and tugged it on. His
shoulder was on fire, but he'd turned down painkillers flat. He'd already lost
too much time.

 
   
 
“Phone.”
He held out a hand to his attorney who dropped a
cell phone into his hand.

 
   
 
“Sir,
you can't use that here…”

 
   
 
“Sauvage, what the hell…”

 
   
 
Pietr
ignored both even as his attorney blocked their interference. He dialed Jacques
number. The man answered on the first ring.

 
   
 
“Head to the museum.
They have to be looking for the Buddha.
Check the vaults where she reported the shooting, the new exhibit area and
wherever the hell they are storing those one hundred Buddhas she talked about.”

 
   
 
Pietr
didn't wait for an answer before hanging up and putting the phone in his
pocket. “Edgington, handle the discharge papers for me.”

 
   
 
“Absolutely.”
The attorney steered the nurse out of the
unit, speaking to her in quick, hushed tones.

 
   
 
The
Detective fell into step with Pietr as he strode out of the emergency room.
“Mr. Sauvage, you're interfering in a police investigation.”

 
   
 
“Then
arrest me or get out of my way. I'm getting Sophie back. I promised her she
would be safe and I intend to keep that promise.”

 
   
 
The
Detective sighed. “Get in.” He motioned to the car parked just down from the
ambulance bay. “You can explain what the hell this is about while I drive.”

 
   
 
Pietr
didn't have to be told twice, he climbed into the passenger seat. “It's about a
statue called
The Fortunate Buddha
and the men who will do anything to possess it.”

 
   
 
Hang on, Sophie
.

 
   
T
he
museum parking unit was the last place Sophie expected to find herself when her
captor opened the trunk. He'd been all soliticious and cold politeness as he
helped her out, ignoring her half dressed state.

 
   
Every muscle in her body hurt, but with his
fingers biting into her arm and the muzzle of the gun digging into her ribs,
she limped her way to the staff access door.

 
   
“You know there are cameras, right?” Museum
security monitored all the entrances, but the hope died a swift death,
smothered when she saw the red lights on the two focused on their entrance
turned off.

 
   
 
“Don't worry, Ms. Kingston. I've taken care of
everything. Use your code to open the door.”

 
   
 
Her
fingers shook as she punched in the numbers. She could have screamed in
frustration as the door opened to a long, empty hallway. Where the hell were
all the people?
 
“It's Wednesday, Ms. Kingston.” Her
captor reminded her, sending the last flare of hope plummeting. On Wednesdays
the museum didn't open until early afternoon because it stayed open much later,
allowing evening tours.

 
   
 
It
had been barely seven when she woke and less than an hour later she was
grabbed. It couldn't be more than nine or ten. The museum staff wouldn’t arrive
until noon and only two security guards would be manning the front desk.

 
   
 
They
were alone.

 
   
 
Sophie stumbled and the man made an impatient
noise.

 
   
 
“I'm
sorry,” she snapped. Anger surged beneath her fear. She was half naked,
barefoot, bruised and battered. He could damn well live with her stumbling.

 
   
 
“What
do you want?”

 
   
 
They
were at the elevators that accessed the basement vaults. The lights on these
security cameras were out as well. The doors opened and the man dragged her
inside. She wondered about her chances for coming out of this alive, her
confidence plummeting with the elevator as they descended three floors.

 
   
 
Sophie supposed she should have been surprised
when the doors opened to the level where the nightmare had begun, but she
wasn't. She picked up the pace to avoid being dragged out, the concrete floors
like ice on her abused feet.

 
   
 
Two
days before, Doctor Hinkley had died down here.

 
   
 
Was
she about to share his fate?

 
   
T
he
surreal quiet of the vault left Sophie unsettled as the man dragging her
released her just three steps away from where Doctor Hinkley had died. Her cart
waited two rows back, she'd seen it on the drag forward, but fought the urge to
look in that direction.

 
   
 
“All
right, Ms. Kingston. Again, you have my apologies for this misadventure.”
Despite holding the gun, the man fished a handkerchief out of his jacket pocket
and mopped at the sheen of sweat on his brow. The temperature and humidity
controlled vault area was cold against her bareflesh, goose bumps rippling
across her bare legs.

 
   
 
Sophie folded her arms over her chest and
lifted her chin. She imagined that if he wanted to shoot her, he could have
done that far more easily at the construction site than here at the museum. She
took advantage of the respite to look her captor over.

 
   
 
He
wore a suit, the rich, expensive kind that Pietr seemed to favor, but it didn't
fit him near as well. A red striped tie poked out of his pocket, and a bandage
wrapped around his right hand. Strangely, the gun seemed the most familiar thing
about him. But then she'd seen the weapon clearly and the man holding it had
only been in sillhoutete.

 
   
 
“Now, Ms. Kingston.
If you would be so
kind as to retrieve the item.”

 
   
 
“The item?”
Sophie eyebrows climbed and she glanced around
the vault, where the shelves played host to hundreds of items. “What item?”

 
   
 
She
suspected it was Pietr's Buddha, but gun or no gun, the last two days of
emotional highs and lows had taken their toll on her. She was done cooperating.

 
   
 
“You
haven't given it to Sauvage or he wouldn't still be here. You only came down
here with the Detective on Monday, so unless you turned it in and I know you
didn't, it's still here. Fetch it for me please.”

 
   
 
“I'm
not a dog.” Sophie tugged the hem of Pietr's shirt, wishing it covered more of
her legs. Thankfully the gun-toting menace didn't appear remotely interested in
her body.

 
   
 
Yet.

 
   
 
She
wasn't ignoring the fact that he'd killed at least two people that she knew of
and it didn't seem a stretch that he would kill her too. The man exhaled a
whistley, frustrated breath.

 
   
 
“Ms.
Kingston, I am trying to be polite…”

 
   
 
“How
did you cover up Doctor Hinkley's death? The police found no evidence.” She met
his incredulous look directly. If she was going to die, she at least wanted an
answer to that question.