2 The Dante Connection (28 page)

“The scapegoat,” Manny said. “Okay, so how did you connect the artworks to the president?”

“The artworks have nothing in common,” I said. “Each originated from a specific country. If we look at this according to the chronology of the thefts, it gives us Switzerland, the United States of America, Spain, Britain, Ireland and Italy. Those were the countries in exact order that President Godard visited in his first three months as president.”

“You’re sure about this?” Manny asked and then he sighed. “I don’t know why I even ask. Of course you’re sure. But I need confirmation. Francine, can you check the president’s itinerary for the first three months?”

“Here,” Francine said after a few moments. She turned her laptop so that Manny could see.

Manny lowered his head and stared at her. “That was mighty fast, little girl. You have the president’s itinerary at your fingertips?”

“Knowledge is power, handsome.” She smiled at his irritation and pointed at the monitor. “Look. It’s exactly like Genevieve said.”

He look at the laptop, loathing around his mouth and eyes. With a heavy sigh he took his smartphone from the inside pocket of his coat.

“See his nice gloves?” Francine asked, pulling my attention to Manny’s hands. He was wearing form-fitting black gloves with a silicone grip pattern on the palms and a light grey material on the tips of his index fingers. “I got him those. They’re touchscreen gloves. Now he doesn’t have to feel so helpless anymore.”

Manny glared at her and turned his torso away from her while making his call. “Daniel, this is turning into a combined threat. Kubanov has a hard-on for the president. Where are they? Hmm-mm? Yes? And you are sure that everything has been checked?”

He finished the call and sank deeper into the chair. We waited, but he didn’t speak.

“So?” Colin asked.

“They’re still at home. It is after all half past five in the morning, a time when normal people are still sleeping and early birds start waking up. The president is already up, his wife and son usually get up an hour after him. Or that’s what Daniel just told me. I don’t really care. I’m tired.”

It was the first time since I had met Manny that he had admitted being tired. It came as no shock since he had been the victim of a bomb blast less than seventy-two hours ago.

“Maybe we should all sleep for a few hours.” Manny stood up. “I think I’m getting too old for this.”

“Aw, handsome.” Francine closed her laptop and also got up. “You’re just a bit banged up. A little beauty sleep and one of Vinnie’s breakfasts and you’ll be as good as new.”

Manny snorted. He looked at me. “I’m going to get some shut-eye. I think you should also hit the sack for an hour or so. Let’s pick this up again in two hours. Frey, you can translate all this to her.”

Francine winked at me and followed Manny out.

“I don’t need a translation,” I said. “It’s crude English, but clear enough. What I do need is to know is whether this is it.”

“What do you mean?” Colin narrowed his eyes. “What more can there be? We know that Professor Tremont wants revenge on you and the first wife, and that Kubanov wants revenge on you and the president.”

“We also know that it will be a grand finale.” I stared at the wall across from me. “It doesn’t feel complete. I feel like I’m missing something.”

“We’ve been at this since yesterday morning. Don’t you want to sleep for an hour?”

“It wouldn’t help me.” I would never be able to fall asleep with the niggling feeling of an impending connection. There was only one way to find this elusive clue. “You go sleep for an hour. I need to work this out.”

Colin sighed, long and heavy. “In that case, I’m going to take a shower, make coffee and let you Mozart your way through this.”

“I told you not to use Mozart as a verb. It annoys me.” I stood up stiffly. I had been in this chair for some time. “A shower actually sounds like an excellent idea.”

Twenty minutes later, I walked out of my bedroom, refreshed after a scorching hot shower and dressed in clean clothes. Apart from the realisation that I was starving, I had had no epiphanies in the shower. I waited patiently in the kitchen for my coffee machine to spit out a strong Brazilian blend coffee. The aroma alone was enough to energise me. I grabbed a few of Vinnie’s oatmeal cookies, picked up my mug and went to the dining room table.

Colin came in, his hair still wet from the shower. He had shaved and was wearing dark gray pants and an expensive-looking black sweater. He also looked refreshed.

“Silence or Mozart?” he asked, walking to the sound system.

“Put on Mozart’s
Symphony No. 26 in E-flat major, please.” I took a large bite from one of the cookies. The opening sounds of the first movement filled the room and almost simultaneously I felt a shift in my mind. It was as if everything inside me aligned the moment I heard Mozart. I sipped my coffee and ate another cookie. This was not working fast enough. I put the mug on the coaster next to my notepad and closed my eyes.

It was the argument between Vinnie and Francine that made me open my eyes. They were in the kitchen, Vinnie cooking breakfast and Francine criticising his method of flipping pancakes. I smiled. Then I frowned. An hour in my head and all I could do was confirm everything we had already discovered. Some of which had been mere hypotheses, but now I knew where to get the concrete evidence.

This was worrying. An urgency I did not often experience discomforted me. It was as if I needed something else to reach that hidden revelation in my brain. Whether it was more data, more Mozart or more sleep I did not know. What I was well aware of was the utmost importance of this revelation, this connection. Not even the mouth-watering smell of Vinnie’s cooking could calm the tension gathering inside me.

My smartphone buzzed, making me jump.

“Hey, take it easy.” Colin was sitting next to me, solving a Sudoku puzzle in a daily newspaper. “It’s just your phone.”

I reached for my handbag. “Well, lately when my phone beeps, it’s some horrid email for a package or… God, this is from Professor Tremont.”

“Impossible,” Vinnie said. He was standing next to me with the pan in one hand and spatula in the other. “He’s in jail.”

I inspected Vinnie from head to toe. He looked his usual intimidating self. “Are you well?”

He smiled at me and leaned a bit forward. “As right as rain, Jen-girl. Even Paul says that there is nothing to worry about, so you can stop looking at me like that.”

“Are you sure?”

“That you should stop looking at me like that? Yes.” He smiled at my frown. “Yes, I’m sure I’m fine. Tell us about the email.”

I first did another inspection of Vinnie’s nonverbal cues. He wasn’t lying. He was genuinely okay. I pulled my laptop closer and opened my inbox. “At the police station, Professor Tremont said that he had finished setting everything up. He must have scheduled this email to be sent at a specific time.”

“What does it say?” Francine asked.

I stared at the screen, the
corrugator procerus
muscles pulling my brow into an even tighter frown. I lifted both shoulders. “‘
Bon Appétit’
.”

“Breakfast’s not ready yet, Jen-girl.”

“No, the email says ‘
Bon Appétit’ and only that.” I shook my head. “This doesn’t make sense. If he had scheduled the email to be sent at this time, then it is obviously around breakfast time. But why would he wish us a pleasant meal if our eating has nothing to do with his great plan? Well, his and Kubanov’s great plan.”

“What’s going on here?” Manny asked, walking towards us. I checked behind him and relaxed when I saw that he had locked the door. He still looked exhausted, but had also taken a shower and changed clothes. He was wearing a shirt that was so neatly ironed that I wondered if Vinnie had been doing laundry for Manny. For some reason that thought greatly amused me, and I smiled.

“What are you smiling at, Doc?”

“My own thoughts.” Taking into consideration the tentative tolerance between these men, I did not think it wise to share those thoughts. I looked at my laptop monitor and my smile disappeared. “I got another email.”

Manny walked faster and sat down across from me. Sombre. “What does it say?”

“‘Bon Appétit’.”

“What the fuck does that mean?”

“We were talking about it when you came in,” I said. “There is no context and it doesn’t make any sense.”

“Hmm.” Manny thought about it for some time before he looked at Vinnie. “Pancakes for breakfast?”

Vinnie looked into the pan he still wielded in front of him like a weapon. “I thought we all needed some unhealthy levels of sugar and calories to fuel us for the day.”

“Are the president and his family still safe?” Francine asked as Vinnie walked back to the kitchen, mumbling about ridiculous suspicions.

“Yes. Daniel phoned to say that they have added to the security detail. This morning the president will attend a function with his wife and son.” He held up one gloved hand. “Before you get all upset, the severely neurotic presidential security detail have checked everything and double-checked it.”

I was not convinced. The niggling just beneath my consciousness became stronger. “Where is this?”

“At their son’s school. Since there are a lot of VIP children in the school, security is always pretty tight. The president was asked to not attend the breakfast concert this morning, but he refused. It’s an annual breakfast the school hosts for all the kids and their parents. They get to enjoy a meal together while some of the kids play some instrument or something. Since there was no proof that he was being targeted at this event, he didn’t want to take this very important milestone away from his son. Apparently the little guy had been practicing his Chopin non-stop for the last three weeks.” Manny’s mouth quivered. “Daniel said the bodyguards were convinced their ears were bleeding from hearing the same pieces over and over.”

It was smooth. The transition from disjointed pieces of information into an all-inclusive, multi-faceted cognisance of everything that had taken place in the last week. I felt at peace with this new understanding as everything quietly fitted together providing me with the full picture.

“It’s not the president or his wife who is the target,” I said in a whisper. “It’s their son.”

My apartment was quiet. Nobody talked or asked questions. They just stared at me. Vinnie rushed back to the table, this time sans pan. I had their full attention.

“Think of the Bible verse on the post-it note. Exodus 20 verse 5, stating that the iniquity of the fathers will be visited upon the children. You thought it could have been me. Add to that this morning’s email wishing me ‘Bon Appétit’?” I looked at Manny. “There is a biological bomb at the school. Kubanov will be there to set it off, just like he was there when I stepped on the bomb and he was there to detonate the bomb that injured you.”

“Whoa, Doc. You’re going too fast here.” Manny was pale. “What the bleeding hell are you talking about?”

I slowed down my thinking process and considered my words. Explaining myself was more complicated than I enjoyed. Every time. “The impostor on the videos was Kubanov. We’ve established that. He likes to show off and to be there for the action. Yes?”

Manny nodded.

“That combined with his past behaviours tells me that he will be wherever this grand finale he planned is to take place. I believe that is at the school. All the clues point to that. I can explain it to you in fine detail, but we’ll be wasting time. You should be phoning Daniel right now to start looking for a bomb or some other delivery system that will spread a pathogen into the air at this event at the school. I think that it will be anthrax, but this is more speculative than anything else. Phone Daniel now.” My last sentence came out as a somewhat loud order. One to which Manny responded immediately.

He pulled his smartphone out of his pants pocket and dialled. “Daniel, it’s the son. It’s the president’s son.”

Chapter TWENTY-FIVE

“
Would you put
a sock in it?” Colin snapped at Manny as we screeched around another corner.

“Then stop driving like the poet Sydney Goddphin and drive like a thief in a getaway car.” Manny pushed himself deeper into the passenger seat and braced his feet against the foot panel. With his hands still bandaged and most likely sensitive, he was not holding onto anything.

I, on the other hand, was sitting in the backseat of Colin’s SUV, the safety belt tight across my chest. My one hand was clutching the door handle, the other pressed flat on the seat next to me for balance. I didn’t know why Manny was complaining about Colin’s driving. He was speeding dangerously through the streets of Strasbourg. We had left the city centre’s congested streets and were heading for the leafy suburbs where the school was located.

“Step on it, Frey. I want to be there five minutes ago.”

“We’ll be there in three. Stop your incessant nagging. You’re worse than Vinnie when…” Colin stopped talking in order to concentrate on overtaking three vehicles, jumping the curb and bouncing back onto the road. “… he wants something.”

“You compare me to that gorilla?” Manny sucked in air when Colin nearly collided with an oncoming car while overtaking again. He swerved in time and for a few metres drove on the shoulder of the wrong side of the road before slowing down and turning into a side street.

“You’re okay there, Doc?” Manny didn’t take his eyes off the road to look at me.

“I’m okay.” I wondered if it was a lie. That would greatly depend on each person’s individual definition of the word ‘okay’. This unproductive reasoning in my mind kept me from panicking. I had never been in a car that was driven at such speed. The part of my brain that objectively observed things told me that Colin was an exceptional driver. Somehow that knowledge did not relax my tense muscles or stop me from biting down hard on my jaw.

The streets we were racing through now were lined with leafless trees. The current temperatures held the heaps of shovelled snow frozen. The sun that had greeted us when we left my apartment had now disappeared behind cold clouds. I wished for summer. And to end this perilous journey. We raced into a long driveway that led to impressive brick buildings spread over a sprawling property.

I was looking at my past. These were the schools my parents had tried to send me to. All prestigious academic institutions had the same look. The look that communicated money, success and intellectuality. To me it communicated pretentiousness, unhealthy ambition and a lack of love.

“Okay, cowboy, slow down. We don’t want to make a scene here.” Manny sat up. “They’re expecting us at the gate.”

We were stopped briefly by a police officer who pointed Colin to a place behind the main building. We passed many expensive cars in the parking area, some with drivers waiting inside heated vehicles. At the back of the main building were fewer cars. A bus was parked next to the doors leading into the building.

“Stop next to the bus.” Manny fumbled with the seatbelt release button while Colin parked, facing the nose of the bus.

He glanced at Manny and smiled. “Need some help there, Millard?”

“Fuck you, Frey.” Manny lifted his hand and waited for Colin to release the seatbelt. He mumbled his thanks and jumped out of the car.

Getting out of the SUV was not that easy for me. My hands were shaking as I opened the door and my legs did not feel as steady as usual. The adrenaline surge was affecting my mobility. I took a deep breath and straightened my spine. A concert hall full of children and parents were in need of our combined skills. My dislike for this environment and the after-effects of Colin’s driving had no bearing here.

I turned to the bus. It had only one door, which I found odd and interesting. The door opened and Daniel appeared at the top of the two lowered steps. There was no welcoming smile. “Come in, guys.”

Daniel disappeared into the bus again. I followed Manny up the steps with Colin right behind me. I stepped into the bus that looked large from the outside and stopped. Colin bumped into me and looked over my shoulder.

“Um, Jenny, are you going to be okay with this?” he asked softly next to my ear, his British accent in place.

The bus had been outfitted with so much equipment that the pride I fostered for my viewing room diminished. At the back was a small conference table and chairs. Along one side of the bus were three computer stations, each with a keyboard and three monitors angled in a semi-circle. The opposite wall was covered in charts, touchscreen whiteboards and electronic equipment that I did not recognise.

Counting myself, there were currently eight people in the bus and it felt cramped. Claustrophobia tightened my throat. I could see that this bus was created to host up to a dozen people comfortably, but for me this was unimaginable. For extra strength I took five seconds to imagine Mozart’s Piano Concerto No. 27 playing softly in the background. My breathing slowed and deepened.

“Please come in,” Daniel said from the conference table. “We’ve been waiting for you. Let me introduce everyone so we can get to work.”

I chose the least populated area of the bus, the computer area, to stand. I leaned lightly against a city map pinned to the wall. Colin was next to me, so close that we were touching shoulder to hip. I didn’t mind. It anchored me.

Daniel started pointing at the men in the bus. “Next to me is Monsieur Aumont, the director of the school and board member. Next to him is Ian, the head of GSPR, the president’s security detail. Ian’s people are already in the ball room and around the school. We’ll make use of that.”

I studied the two men and came to immediate conclusions. The head of GSPR was a man formed by his service to the country. I doubted he experienced, or allowed himself to experience, soft emotions. His life was about being alert, protecting and leading. Monsieur Aumont was the exact opposite, possibly with the exception of leading. Even his features were similar to the people from my parents’ social circles. High forehead, narrow nose, straight posture and arrogance in every muscle movement. I didn’t like him.

Daniel introduced his other two team members in the bus. Pink was a name completely unsuited to the muscular man working between two computer stations. He was an expert in everything connected to information technology and electronics. He nodded at us without taking his eyes from the monitors, his fingers flying over the keyboard. His team mate, Charles, was the tactical leader of the team and stood close to the door, his arms crossed over his chest.

I glanced at the closed door behind Charles and flinched. Colin touched my lower back and brought my attention back to Daniel’s introductions.

“Doctor Lenard is an expert in nonverbal communication.”

“How is that supposed to prevent some imbecile from bombing my school?” Monsieur Aumont asked. Even his speech pattern was typical of this subculture. His question was asked with a cultured accent, in an apparent respectful tone, but his body language gave away his condescension. To him we were all inferior.

Daniel ignored Monsieur Aumont and finished introducing Manny and Colin. Both snickered when Colin was referred to as my assistant. I didn’t bother to point out the mistake or try to understand Manny and Colin’s amusement. I tried to focus on the situation and not the space that felt as if it was slowly constricting even more.

“Except for Monsieur Aumont, everyone here is fully briefed on the events of the last few days and how this led up to our presence at the school,” Daniel said. “Monsieur Aumont understands that not all information can be disclosed to persons without needed clearance.”

I had no idea what information Monsieur Aumont had been given and feared that I might disclose things better not publicly known. With a shudder, I acknowledged to myself that I currently found myself in a situation beyond my skill-set. I looked at Colin and he shook his head slightly. Since I had no context from which to interpret his communication, I turned back to what Daniel was saying.

“A quick rundown on what we have at the school. At present there are nine hundred and seventy-three people in this building. To our benefit, everyone is contained mostly in the ballroom and kitchen. Like I said, Ian’s people inspected the premises thoroughly two days ago and again yesterday, ensuring the president’s safety for this morning’s event. Since the alert went out yesterday, they’ve upped the detail. There are presently eighteen of his people spread all over the school, in the ballroom, kitchens, everywhere. They are busy moving people out of the other areas, making sure that we only have the ballroom and kitchen populated. We were discussing sending some of our men in there.”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea.” All eyes turned to me and I regretted verbalising my thoughts.

“Why not, Doctor Lenard?” Ian asked.

“I believe that Kubanov is inside the building. The moment you send a team in there or start sending people out, he might release whatever pathogen he has.”

Daniel nodded. “We came to the same conclusion, so we’re keeping the status quo as it is. We have the Hazmat teams on standby outside of a safe perimeter. The last thing we want to do is trigger this man into acting rashly. So far we’ve been able to keep things going as is. Sending our guys in with biosensors will create a stir and most likely panic which is something we want to avoid at all cost.”

“What do you recommend we do, Doctor Lenard?” Ian asked.

I was surrounded by alpha males, with the exception of Monsieur Aumont. What made this group of men exceptional in my eyes was their openness to cooperate. There were no territorial fights, no posturing, just a common goal and the need to find the quickest, cleanest solution to this situation.

“Sorry for stating the obvious, but we need to determine where the pathogen is and how Kubanov plans to deliver it.”

The tactical leader Charles shifted from one foot to the other, restless to act. “This shindig is only for another hour and a half. We don’t have time to figure this out.”

Monsieur Aumont sighed loudly. He pointed with his sharp chin to some glossy pamphlets lying on the conference table. “These are the programmes for this morning’s breakfast concert. It’s all there. Even photos. As you’ll see everything is planned to the minute.”

Colin moved to the table and took two pamphlets. He handed me one. I glanced at it without completely registering what I saw.

“This event was planned under great secrecy,” Monsieur Aumont continued. “No one outside of this school knew about this. An hour before the event started we alerted a selected few journalists. This is good PR for the school and for everyone involved. No one else knew about it until an hour before it started.”

I cleared my throat. “These are teenagers with access to the internet, they have smartphones, use multiple forms of social media. Jonas, the expert hacker, would’ve picked up any communication about this if he had searched for this.”

“I’m well aware of that,” the director said. “The children in this school come from well-to-do families, families with political enemies, families that have entire security teams appointed to them. A lot of these kids have bodyguards. They understand the importance of keeping things under their hats.”

We stared at him. I bit down on my lips to not say anything about his naivety.

“We’re wasting time.” Daniel looked at Colin. “Mister Goddphin, if you were going to set off a bio-weapon, how would you go about it?”

Colin stiffened. I knew that Manny had not told Daniel anything about Colin’s background, yet the leader of the GIPN team had just proven his skill at reading people.

“Firstly, I would never do anything remotely like this.” Colin leaned closer against me. “But I can imagine that Kubanov would have had this all set up months ago. If his motivation is to get to the president’s son, he would have been here for some time looking for opportunities to exact his revenge in the most satisfying way.”

“I agree,” I said. “I believe that he’s had someone here for a few months even to keep an eye on the president’s son. He would not have wasted his time or energy with that. But today he would want to be here, to watch his handiwork.”

Colin nodded. “Yup. He has someone at the school working for him and he got in as one of the temporary staff. Maybe the catering company, cleaning crew or even as one of the security guards.”

“Impossible.” The director lifted his nose to look down at Colin even though he was sitting and Colin standing. “All our staff, permanent and temporary, are vetted. Because we have diplomats’ children here and other VIP children, a person entering these premises for anything other than a prearranged meeting has to be approved by the local police.”

This man’s arrogance pulled me back into my past. These people were never at fault, never open to learn and most definitely not open to change. I looked at Daniel. “He’s not helpful. My professional opinion is that he will argue every decision you make and might even go as far as interfering. I suggest removing him from our discussion and keeping him contained.”

My suggestion solicited many different responses. The director turned red in his face and spluttered. Charles and Colin chuckled. Pink stopped working on the computers for the first time since I entered the bus. He turned to look at me with surprise and respect on his face. Only Ian and Daniel maintained neutral expressions, but I had seen the micro-expression around Daniel’s eyes. He had been surprised and amused.