2 The Dante Connection (26 page)

“Aren’t you going to phone your police buddies?” Vinnie smirked. “Or has this just gone far above your head, old man?”

“Vinnie.” My tone was strong and reproving. He had the good grace to lower his head. But he also winked at me and smiled.

Manny glared at Francine. She smiled sweetly, clearly understanding his nonverbal communication, and picked up his phone. “Same number?”

His grunt was enough answer for her. For the next four minutes we listened to a one-sided conversation. I surmised that the initial disbelief was followed by very brief panic. Soon the conversation ended.

“Okay, he’s going to check with GSPR where the first lady is and if all of them are safe. He’ll get back to me.”

“What is GSPR?” Francine asked.

“It’s the presidential security detail,” Manny said.

“Who were you talking to?” I asked. I was curious.

“The GIPN team leader here in Strasbourg, Daniel.”

“This is worse than the friggin’ US of A,” Vinnie said.
“FBI, CIA, NSA, GSPR, GIPN. All these stupid alphabets.”

“Acronyms,” I said. “When we use the… oh, you were being sarcastic. Sorry. I’m not used to you being sarcastic.”

“No sweat, Jen-girl.” Vinnie grunted. “No problem. I don’t care what you guys do, but I’m not calling everyone G-something. It will be the president’s security detail and one G for GIPN. Else it will be too many G’s for my little brain.”

I wanted to correct him about his high intellect when I realised he was also referring to my name. I smiled.

It became quiet in my apartment, everyone lost in thought. I was trying to make sense of this game of chess Kubanov was playing. Despite Professor Tremont’s many degrees, he was simply not capable of this type of strategic planning. That was Kubanov’s trait. As I had seen before and again heard during that horrid telephone conversation, he loved playing games.

“Jenny, tell us what you’re thinking.” Colin was smiling at me. “You’re mumbling and you’re blinking furiously. Maybe if you tell us, we could play devil’s advocate.”

My face pulled into a frown. “It’s mostly hypotheses that I’m running through my mind to see which ones fit with the concrete evidence and facts that we have already accumulated.”

“Yeah, yeah, Doc. We know that you don’t like guessing. Just tell us so that we can spitball your ideas.” Manny gave me an uncommon smile. “It means to throw ideas around for discussion. No real spit involved.”

A few chuckles eased some of the tension. Even I smiled. “Apart from Kubanov exacting revenge for the perceived humiliation suffered under my hand, there has to be more. For his personality, his reasoning, this doesn’t fit. Looking at the previous case, that art forgery scam had so many elements, fitting so neatly together. On the surface it seemed like a bunch of students expertly forging masterpieces, but after a lot of layers we discovered that it led to leadership in Eurocorps and the EDA being part of this.”

“Being part of this conspiracy,” Francine said pointedly, but quickly leaned back in her chair when we looked at her with expressions of shock and disgust. “What? It was a conspiracy.”

“Granted,” I said. “One that had Kubanov right at the top, orchestrating it. He was using his philanthropic reputation to hide his illegal activities. There has never been any evidence of him being involved in any crime. He has always used others to do the practical work–”

“–so that if they get caught, he is never implicated,” Colin finished.

“Yes,” I said. “So why is he actively involved this time? What makes it different? Personally, I think that there is more at stake for him here than just getting back at me. I’m too insignificant. I think I’m merely a bonus to something bigger.”

“Any ideas?” Colin asked.

“Not yet.” I rubbed my temples. “Francine, what do you have on the president’s wife? Background, work history, family history?”

“A lot.” She grabbed her tablet with a smile. “No politician escapes my scrutiny. I have dirt on all of them. I must admit that I paid more attention to her husband than to her. Maybe that is why I didn’t catch on to her name at first. The husband was much more important to dig into.”

Manny cleared his throat, looking at Francine from under eyebrows pulled down low.

Her smile widened. “Don’t worry, handsome. No one will ever know that I checked them out. And no one will ever know what I know. I just need to be prepared.”

“Prepared for what?” I asked. This woman fascinated me. Her preparedness might be conspiracy paranoia, or it might have a valid premise. With her I never knew which direction she would go.

“For the Illuminati to come out of hiding after almost two hundred years of obscurity.”

Vinnie rolled his eyes, Manny he shook his head, Colin laughed softly and I knew which direction she had gone this time. I found her entertaining.

“Okay, here it is,” she said. “Isabella Sophia Lescot was born–”

“Maybe you should only give us more recent details,” I said. “Tell us about her student years.”

Francine grunted. “Okay, if you say so. She studied medicine and that is where she met her husband, Raymond. She graduated in neurology and he as a lawyer. She was quite the feminist trailblazer at university. People were surprised when she actually got married. Like you said, she didn’t use his surname until about eight years ago.

“At first they both concentrated on their careers. She was hot stuff in her field and quickly became nationally and internationally known as one of the best neurosurgeons. She took a break in her career to have their only child. He is now eleven years old. She cut back on her hours, for two years working only five-eighths of the hours she used to.”

She did a quick crosscheck on her laptop. “Yup, that was around the time that Professor Tremont’s daughter needed surgery. That was nine years ago. Shortly after that surgery, she left that hospital and started working at another hospital. Hmm, I wonder why. Maybe the hospital accepted a bribe, or donation as they call it, from the professor and forced her to perform the surgery.”

“Francine, that is outrageous speculation,” I said. “You tend to go overboard with you speculation. Not everything is a conspiracy.”

“But could be true.” She pulled her shoulders back. “I’m not always wrong, you know.”

“I know. And that is rather worrying. And paradoxical.”

“Cool.” That seemed to please her. “What else do you want to know? The president hasn’t always been in public service. After he graduated, he worked for a private firm as a criminal defence attorney. One of his cases ended quite badly. An immigrant, who was a juvenile and a violent criminal, could’ve gotten off on a technicality, but Godard slipped up. This kid was sent to jail where he was killed two weeks later. Quite a scandal. Godard left that firm and started working for the prosecutor’s office six months later.”

“I didn’t know that.” Manny scowled.

“You’re a Brit,” Colin said with disdain. “Do you have any interest in our politics?”

“Frey, it is not like you are a French national either. You have no grounds to look down on your nose at anyone either.”

I tilted my head. None of us were pure French citizens. I held two passports, one American and one French. Manny was British. The others I was convinced had more passports and more identities than I could imagine. Vinnie I knew had been born in the US and Francine in Brazil. Colin? I did not know. It bothered me.

I was annoyed that my mind had digressed so. I cleared my throat. “The documentaries I saw about the president and his wife never mentioned much of his early years or that case. If I think about it, the only information about his background started only fifteen years ago, when he was already working at the prosecutor’s office. That scandal must have been uncommonly bad. I can’t remember it being on any of the news programmes I watched.”

“Of course you watched news programmes when you were a student.” Vinnie looked disgusted. I didn’t understand why.

“I did and I cannot recall anything about that.”

“A cover-up,” Francine said with such authority that I almost believed her. In the context of who she was, I lifted one eyebrow and waited. “Obviously this was some government conspiracy against this poor immigrant kid, and they didn’t want the public to know anything, so they had a media blackout. That was still possible in the pre-social media years. I would like to see them try that today. I’m sure that the president’s PR team has also advised him to never, ever mention that scandal. Ooh, now I have to find out what happened. Give me a few hours and I’ll tell you everything.”

Her enthusiasm about this made me smile. She genuinely amused me with her preposterous theories in direct contrast to her highly intelligent fact-finding skills and reasoning.

The jingle of Manny’s smartphone brought tension back to the table in an instant. He answered it and we all leaned forward.

“Daniel, have you got him? You’re fucking kidding me. Yes? Uh-huh. Yes. Okay, let me check.” He placed his hand over the earpiece on the side of his head. I didn’t know if that was an effective method to prevent Daniel from hearing the conversation, but didn’t say anything when Manny looked at me. “They took Professor Tremont into custody fifteen minutes ago. He’s en route to the police station now. They would like for you to be there for the interview.”

“Me? No.” The last time I was in a police station, they had locked me in a room for more than six hours. “We can stream the interview.”

“Why do you look so worried? You’ll be perfectly fine in the police… aah.” The
risorius
muscles contracted his lips in an attempt to hide his smile. I still saw it. “Doc, no one will arrest you or leave you in a room for the night. I’ll make sure of it. You’ll be in the observation room while we conduct the interview. It will be much easier with you there.”

“I’ll go with,” Colin said, surprising everyone. He rolled his eyes at the expressions around the table. “In disguise. I’ll go with in disguise.”

Manny mumbled something about criminals and con artists. I didn’t catch everything. I was too busy weighing up my options. Logic ruled out my resistance. “Okay, I’ll go if Colin goes.”

Manny lifted the phone to his ear, glaring at Colin. “We’ll be there in twenty minutes.”

Chapter TWENTY-THREE

I didn’t want to be in this observation room. My increased heart rate and shallow breathing was evidence that my entire system rebelled against being in this building. The last time I had been in this police station, Manny had insisted it had been for my own safety, yet I still considered it as being locked up for the night. I had spent six hours in an interrogation room, just like the one on the monitors in front of me.

Then it had been Mozart keeping me calm. Now it was nonverbal analysis and Colin’s calming presence next to me. I glanced at the cheap clock against the beige wall. It was a few minutes before midnight. Seven minutes to be exact. On the three large monitors, I had a complete view of the room where Professor Tremont had spent the last ninety minutes not responding to any of the detective’s questions.

The police station had surprised me with its up-to-date technology. The three cameras in the interrogation room were of the highest quality, providing great visuals. There were two microphones, both fully functional and giving crisp clear sounds. The software being used by the quiet policewoman sitting behind the computers was on par with what I used.

Manny stepped into the observation room and stopped a few feet away. I had been overwhelmed with relief when I had walked into this room to find it spacious. “What can you tell me, Doc?”

“The same as I told you ten minutes after you started the interview. His rage overwhelms all his responses. I honestly don’t think you’re going to get him to tell you anything.”

Another man stepped into the room, making it much smaller. He was not as large as Vinnie, but a tall and well-built man. I recognised him from the footage of the two bombs.

“Doctor Lenard, I’m Daniel Cassel.” His English was accented, but he seemed comfortable with the second language. He stuck out his hand. “Please to meet you.”

Manny placed his hand on Daniel’s forearm. “She doesn’t shake hands.”

Daniel withdrew his hand. “No problem. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

“Pleased to meet you too.”

He looked at Colin. “And you are?”

“Sydney Goddphin.” Colin got up from the chair next to me and shook Daniel’s hand. His British accent was stronger than Manny’s and incredibly authentic. “I’m an associate of Doctor Lenard’s. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

The assessing look Daniel gave Colin indicated that Manny had not told him who Colin really was. Colin didn’t even glance at Manny who was looking at me with a frown. I lifted my shoulders and refused to say anything. Colin stepped back and sat down next to me again.

When Colin had come out of his room unrecognisable in his hipster apparel, I had told him that I was not going to lie for him. He had told me it wouldn’t be necessary. When I commented on his clothes, he had been surprised that I knew about hipsters. Subcultures interested me. I had to admit being surprised that he had skinny jeans, multi-coloured boat shoes and a stretched out hoodie in his usually elegant wardrobe. Even indoors he was still wearing tinted glasses and a gray knit ski hat.

“Doctor Lenard, we would like to try something different with Professor Tremont,” Daniel said.

“I didn’t see you in the interrogation room,” I said. “Have you also been watching this interview?”

“Yes. This has become an inter-agency, inter-departmental case. It’s of national security importance that we get Tremont talking.”

His mention of national security triggered a question. “Is Doctor Godard okay? Safe?”

“She’s at home with her family. We’ve alerted the presidential security detail that something might be up, so they’ve got extra guys at their home and will have extra security on them until this thing is sorted out. They are sceptical though. Even though President Godard is popular and his wife the nation’s sweetheart at the moment, they still receive a fair number of threats.” He smiled at me. “But they know their job, so you don’t have to worry about her tonight.”

After the last case and the involvement of the GIPN, I had read up on them. A lot of the French version of a SWAT team’s training was psychology. This man must have done extremely well in that course. He knew all the right things to say and which tone to say it in. His body language was authoritative, but respectful, open and friendly. He was successful at putting me at ease. Not an easy feat.

“What would you like to try with Professor Tremont?” I asked.

“We would like for you to interview him.”

“Me?” My eyebrows shot up and I put my hand on my sternum. “Oh, I think that it would be a grave error in judgement to send me. My expertise is in watching interviews and interpreting nonverbal communication. I’m not trained in asking questions to a suspect.”

“Take a breath, Doc,” Manny said. “Just hear Daniel out.”

Daniel’s eyes widened ever so slightly when Colin put his hand over my fist in my lap. He hid his reaction quickly. “Manny has briefed me on your history with Professor Tremont. We think that he would be agitated enough with your presence there that he might start speaking. In my experience, once you get a suspect to speak, it is like a dam that bursts. Everything just comes tumbling out.”

“You don’t have to do this, Jenny.” Colin’s words were soft, excluding the two men standing in front of us. His accent slipped a bit.

I took a deep breath. I looked at Colin, then Daniel and Manny. “I can’t guarantee anything. I’ll try to get him to talk, but I’ve never done anything like this before.”

“She’s not going in there alone.” Colin’s hand tightened over mine. “Who’s going in with her?”

Manny gave a half shrug and his top lip curled up. He was disgusted and not committed to what he was about to say. Interesting. “We think you should go in with her.”

Colin laughed. “Who are ‘we’, Millard? I’m sure it wasn’t your idea.”

“Don’t push me,
Goddphin
.” Manny emphasised the surname with warning. “It was Daniel’s idea and unfortunately I agree with him. Tremont has seen all of us at some point during this evening. We don’t want to involve anyone else at this point in the investigation and you already know the entire background.”

“And?” Colin had seen the same hesitation I had observed. There was more to Manny’s reasoning.

“And Doc trusts you,” Manny said reluctantly. “I know that you’ll look out for her.”

“Aw, Millard, that’s sweet.”

“Don’t taunt.” I pulled my hands from under Colin’s. “Is there anything specific you want me to ask him?”

Daniel walked to the policewoman and got something from her desk. “You can use this earpie–”

“No, no, no.” The amount of bacteria on that little device had me shivering. “I’m not touching that thing. Give it to Colin.”

“Who’s Colin?” Daniel asked.

Manny laughed. A belly laugh. “It’s her pet name for her boyfriend here. Must be some private joke or something.”

I was surprised that Manny would lie to protect Colin’s identity. And I was highly annoyed that the thought of an already used earpiece had me so distracted that I couldn’t even attempt to lie. I might not have been successful, but I might have tried.

“I’ll take it,” Colin said. He glared at Manny and then turned to Daniel with his hand extended. “I’ll either relay it to Doctor Lenard or ask it myself.”

“Oh, that’s a brilliant idea.” I sat up in my chair. “Co… um… Sydney can ask all the questions.”

“Doc, you and I both know that Tremont most likely won’t respond to that. I think it is you who will push him into talking.”

I exhaled loudly. “Fine.”

I glanced at the monitors. Professor Tremont was sitting at the table, slumped. Two burly GIPN team members were watching him from their positions next to the door. Like Daniel they were wearing their full uniform. Claude Tremont looked like a sick, weak man next to these specimens of health and strength. His hair was mussed, his face drawn. As always he was dressed in brown corduroy trousers, a crisp cream dress shirt and a sports jacket.

“Time to get this show on the road, Doc.”

Even though I didn’t appreciate or often understand metaphors, I agreed with Manny that this was going to be a show. I felt utterly ill-prepared for this. Colin stood up and held out his hand. I looked at it. Taking his hand represented too many significant choices. Including an admission of weakness.

I got up without touching Colin’s hand and stood in front of him. “No offence intended.”

“Oh Jenny, none taken.” He lowered his head to look me straight in the eye. “And I mean no offence. I know that you are more than strong enough to do this alone. You are brave, strong, intelligent and so far above all these yahoos.”

When I nodded and gave Colin a small smile that I knew didn’t convince, he gave me a genuine smile and walked to the door. I followed him. Ahead of us, Manny and Daniel talked in low voices. They stopped in front of a door on the left and waited for us to join them. It was two doors down from the observation room.

“Doc, I’ll be in the observation room. Daniel and his two guys will be right outside this door.” Manny paused like people did before they said something of great importance. “If anything looks iffy, you shout and Daniel will be in there before you can say ‘help’.”

“That is physically impossible.” My voice tapered at the end. I grunted. “It’s also a saying, isn’t it?”

They smiled. Daniel gestured to the door. “My guys will leave as soon as you are in there. Sydney here has the earpiece and you only have to shout and we’ll be in there. Ready?”

“No. But I’ll do this.” I walked past the men and opened the door. It gave me a sweeping view of the room. I took one step in and stopped next to the door. This interrogation room was exactly like the one the two detectives had interviewed the young thief in. Professor Tremont was sitting with his back towards the door on a heavy duty plastic chair. His head hanging forward and his hands on his lap.

One of the burly men was next to the door to my right. He nodded to his partner who walked to the door and pushed past me. I sucked in my breath as they touched me inadvertently. I had to hold it together if I was going to succeed in my first interrogation. I felt a hand on my lower back and swivelled around to glare at Colin. He lifted both hands and smiled apologetically. I straightened my shoulders and walked to the other side of the room to take the chair across from Professor Tremont.

He didn’t lift his head as I sat down or even when Colin scraped his chair on the floor. I sat for a few seconds contemplating my next move. How I approached the initial contact would set the tone for the rest of the interview. Just as I reached a decision, Professor Tremont lifted his head. First his eyes widened in recognition, immediately followed by his pupils constricting and him squinting at me. Nonverbal behaviour observed when the subject did not like what he saw or he felt threatened.

“You! You vicious bitch! What are you doing here?” Spittle flew from his mouth and landed in little sparkling drops on the table between us. “Why the fuck would they send someone like you in here to talk to me? Do they not know who you are? What you do to people?”

I was not prepared for this reaction to my presence. It was fascinating. So much rage for whatever he had perceived I had done to wrong him. I lifted my hand from my lap in a slight movement to stop Colin from interfering. His body was tense, ready for action despite his apparent relaxed pose. Professor Tremont hadn’t even noticed his presence or simply didn’t care.

“Do they know how you go out of your way to destroy a man, a respected man’s career? Why did you do it? Huh? Why?” He didn’t give me time to answer. “Do you know how hard I had to work to have the reputation I did? You ruined it all. You and your vicious paper.”

“What else did I ruin, Claude?” It was evident that he had long since passed the line of rationality. I presented a convenient scapegoat for all his problems. Using his first name would infuriate him even more. I was stripping him of his profession, his achievements. These were not the kind of questions I had expected to be asking.

“You made me look weak.” He changed his voice into a sing-song bully’s voice. He sounded as deranged as the wild look in his eyes implied. “Oh, look at poor Professor Tremont. He had to go for therapy and he was so proud that it worked. Look at clever, genius Doctor Lenard. She wrote an article calling that therapy hogwash. He was duped. His therapy didn’t help him. He is such a loser.”

He slammed both hands on the table. Colin stiffened, but didn’t do anything. I was glad that this interview was being recorded. Professor Tremont’s behaviour was that of a psychotic break. I would like to watch it again.

“What? Huh? You got nothing to say for yourself? I thought so. You think you are above us all. You and your high IQ. You know what the people around the university call you? Huh? Sharon Stone. They call you Sharon fucking Stone.”

“Why?” For once I actually knew who this person was. On the news channel I usually watched, some documentary had been advertised that was narrated by this actress. I had been bored and had researched her on the internet.

“Because she’s so sexy and has a genius IQ.” His smile held no humour, only rancour. “I find that so funny. Her IQ was never proved. And she admitted that she was never a member of Mensa. So there! You don’t even qualify to be compared to her.”