2 The Dante Connection (6 page)

Before I could take issue to what he had said, Phillip left the room. Colin’s soft laughter made me glare at him. “What?”

“You did not like being called a kid.”

“Of course not. I’m thirty-four years old. Most definitely not a kid. And you are… I don’t know how old you are.” This realisation truly bothered me.

“I’m thirty-eight. And I would greatly appreciate it if you did not share this information with anyone.”

“Why not? Surely your age isn’t top secret?” I pulled away from him. “Or are you one of those people who define themselves by the relationship between their looks and their age? No, no. You aren’t that vain. Then why the secret? I don’t mind people knowing how old I am.”

“Identity theft.”

It didn’t take long for me to comprehend. “Aha. The more information people have on you, the easier it would be for them to impersonate you, steal your credit details and take over your life. Oh my goodness, should I stop telling people how old I am?”

Colin laughed. He shook his head. “I’ve missed this.”

“What?” I was still fretting about the danger I had put myself into by telling people my age.

“Laughing.” His quiet admission pulled me out of my train of thought. What I saw on his face made my chest hurt. I wanted to say something. Do something. Maybe touch him like normal people did. None of this came naturally to me. It was achingly difficult for me to be a friend.

“I don’t know what to say.” Distress tightened my throat and my words came out strangled.

“You don’t have to say anything, Jenny. Just be you. That’s what I need right now.” He cleared his throat, unconsciously announcing a change in the mood, in the subject. “Why don’t I drive you home and you can tell me about the cases on the way?”

“I have my own car.”

“And you have secure parking here. I’ll drop you off tomorrow morning. Why put any more environmentally destructive gasses in the air?”

Before I knew it we were in a heated debate about global warming and the credence to the many varying theories surrounding it. I put the files in the side pocket of my computer bag. They barely fit. Colin took the heavy bag from me and carried it to his car. The argument gained momentum until we were halfway to my apartment and I realised that he had used this as a distraction to get his way.

I gave him five minutes of silent anger until I relented and told him everything that I had learned about the burglary cases. We were still discussing this when he guided me past my front door to the neighbouring door. A flash of annoyance returned, but I banked it. For now I needed some information from Francine.

Chapter FIVE

“So? What do you think?”

I ignored Colin’s question and walked deeper into his apartment. The more I saw, the more confused I became. I stopped in front of one of the walls in astonishment. Footsteps sounded over the wooden floors and stopped next to me.

“Did you do all of this?” I asked, waving my hand around the flat.

“The interior decorating? Some of it, yes. The art? That’s another story.” He reached to the wall filled with masks and took an Inca funerary mask. “These masks I actually did pay for, just like you. Do you think that we bought our masks from the same guy in Peru?”

“I always wondered how you knew what it was when you first saw it in my flat.”

“On the first day we met,” he said. He had broken into my apartment and I still remember him studying my apartment as if it was an interesting piece of art. He replaced the mask that was an almost exact replica of the one hanging in my apartment. “Tell me what you think.”

I turned my back on the mask-filled wall to face the rest of the open-space living area. I didn’t know what to think. I most definitely didn’t know what to say. Colin’s apartment was similar to mine in layout. Admittedly, I had never been in this apartment, even though I had been living next door for six years.

The same as in my apartment, Colin’s was divided into two sections. The first was a cavernous room that in my apartment hosted a living area and reading area opposite each other on each side of the front door. Colin had his living area on the opposite side and didn’t have bookshelves lining the walls and forming a semi room-divider. There he had filled the walls with paintings, masterpieces if I were not mistaken. Whether they were authentic, legally obtained or forged I had no way of ascertaining. Colin was, after all, a master forger and art thief.

Deeper into the apartment, the kitchen and dining areas were on the same opposing sides as in my apartment. A corridor between these two areas led to the three bedrooms that both our apartments had. Every inch of wall space was covered in art. Oil paintings and watercolours, sketches, photography and even a mosaic that I shuddered to think some museum might be wanting back.

I took my time walking around and inspecting the front part of his apartment. Sculptures were tastefully placed on antique tables. Persian carpets covered parts of the wooden floors. Our apartments had a lot in common, yet Colin’s was more masculine. And the art was much more expensive than the pieces I had collected. I placed my handbag and computer bag with my work computer on one of the dark blue sofas.

“Where are your books?” I asked.

“In my study. I set up a library and reading area there. Your place inspired me.”

“Evidently.”

Colin looked amused by my annoyance. I was appreciating a bronze sculpture that looked suspiciously like an original Picasso. He joined me. “Don’t you like my interior decorating skills?”

“It looks to me like art is not the only thing that you copy, Mister Frey.” I looked pointedly at the open area. “Should I be disgusted or complimented by this blatant display of mimicry?”

“Wow.” Colin took a step away from me. “That cut deep, Jenny.”

“Jen-girl.” Vinnie’s booming voice broke into our conversation. I turned in time to see him storming towards us from the bedrooms. “You are here.”

“I am,” I said. Watching the almost two-metre-tall giant coming towards me changed my emotional state. I went from annoyed to happy. Despite the last four months, I was genuinely happy to see Vinnie. I was less pleased when he didn’t break his stride and he swept me into his arms. My feet lifted off the floor and I hung helpless in a strangle hold.

“I’m so, so, so, so, so sorry.” He repeated this a few times in my hair. I felt his muscular body tremble with emotional overload. That was the only reason I didn’t try to wriggle out of his arms. Vinnie was very kinaesthetic. He was a touch person. And he was a hugger. I didn’t like being hugged. He knew it, yet was still hugging me. I really wanted to wriggle.

“Vin, put Jenny down. You’re smothering her.” There was humour in Colin’s voice.

I felt myself being slowly lowered, but Vinnie didn’t let go of me. At least I wasn’t squashed up against his chest anymore. He did, however, hold my shoulders in his huge hands so I couldn’t move away. At the hospital he had barely made eye contact and had avoided me most of the time. Not now. He looked me over as if making sure I was uninjured.

“You’re even prettier than I remember.”

“Vin.” Colin groaned. I couldn’t see him so I didn’t know if he was embarrassed or annoyed.

“What? She is,” Vinnie said, still looking at me. He leaned in until his nose almost touched mine. I quickly wrote two bars of Mozart’s Serenade No. 11 for wind instruments in E-flat major to not give in to the claustrophobic panic his proximity induced. “Jen-girl, I’m sorry. Colin told me that you were hurt by us not contacting you. I knew that it was not the right thing to do, but we didn’t know what else to do. It was never our intention to hurt you. You’re one of my best friends, Jen-girl. I never want to hurt you.”

I completely forgot about my dislike for being touched. The intensity of Vinnie’s remorse overwhelmed me. That and yet another friendship declaration. This was becoming too much for me. I looked around him at Colin.

“Okay, Vin.” Colin must have seen the desperation on my face. He stepped in and peeled Vinnie’s hands off my shoulders. “Let the pretty lady go. That’s a good man.”

The relief of having my body to myself again was immense. I stepped back and concentrated on my breathing until I had my equilibrium back. After four months of limited social exposure, I now faced the challenge once again to interact. If I didn’t have my experience as a child pretending to socially fit in and my extensive training in psychology to fall back on, the feeling I had now would have been severe enough to trigger an episode. I reached for the right thing to say to Vinnie.

“You’ve picked up weight.”

“Oh, Jen-girl, I missed you.” Vinnie laughed and slapped his stomach. “I put on more muscle, not fat. Being stuck in this apartment with Colin was boring. I had a lot of time to work out.”

“Oh.” What else could I say to that?

Vinnie looked around the apartment. “What do you think? Cool, huh?”

The moment I saw Vinnie’s chin raise and his chest puff out, understanding descended upon me. “You decorated this place.”

“You don’t have to sound so surprised.”

I was still trying to find my way through all the emotions of these two men being back in my life. Stepping back into social interaction was not as easy as it had been for me as a child. As I had grown older, I had become less tolerant of inane social niceties. But there was no denying its importance in this situation. All the indications of remorse and the desire to make amends were in Vinnie’s demeanour. I reached for my training and years of observing people. I didn’t fake a smile, but I modulated my tone.

“Everything makes more sense now, Vinnie. You moved in here with Colin when he was still physically weak. That leads me to conclude that you had to move his furniture into this apartment.” I knew I was on the right track. Their faces told me. “He was too weak to really care what went where and you thought copying the layout of my apartment would be an easy solution. Especially since you had more important things to worry about. Once the furniture was placed, Colin grew used to it. So, when he was strong enough, he didn’t move anything.”

“You told her, dude?” Vinnie looked at Colin with widened eyes.

“I only told her that we moved in here six weeks ago. The rest she all deduced.”

“Pretty and smart, just like I remember.”

We stood in silence for a few seconds. Then I realised they were still waiting for my verdict on the apartment.

“The apartment looks artfully decorated,” I said quickly, more interested in the reason I was here. “Where is Francine?”

“Here I am.”

We turned to the kitchen area. Francine was wearing black yoga pants and a matching body-hugging T-shirt. Her hair was washed and styled, diamond earrings dangling, gold watch on her one wrist and a diamond bracelet on the other. Her face was bare of make-up, yet multicoloured. And terribly swollen.

I took a step towards her. “Shouldn’t you be in bed?”

“I probably should, but then I would feel like I was sick or dying or something. And it’s not sexy.” She pulled her shoulders back, winced and walked towards us with a determined limp. She carefully lowered herself on the large dark blue sofa. “Since my usual clothes and shoes are too painful to wear, I have to make up for it with the diamonds. And there is no way I’m lying in bed wearing these fabulous diamonds.”

As illogical as it was, I knew that many women used make-up and accessories the same way soldiers of old used war paints. It was a form of readiness for battle, whether it was fighting to the death or dealing with traffic, children and corporate pressure. In my everyday life, accessories were only necessary if they were useful.

“Let’s sit down.” Colin’s suggestion brought me out of my musings. I took a seat next to Francine. Colin and Vinnie settled on the two wingback chairs facing the sofa. They started talking about Francine’s injuries, the men insisting she stay in bed, Francine arguing that she was well enough to be walking around. It was irrelevant and boring.

A thought came to me. “Francine, shouldn’t you let your family know that you’ve been injured?”

Fleeting expressions pulled at her swollen face. The one I took interest in was emotional pain. “No, it’s okay. I wouldn’t want to worry them. It’s not that bad in any case.”

“Why did you kill those two men?” The gentleness in my voice surprised me. It made Francine blink away tears.

She sat a little straighter and immediately grabbed the side of her broken ribs. “Vinnie, could you get my iPad, please?”

“Sure thing, doll.” Vinnie got up and walked towards the bedrooms. I turned to look at Francine, waiting. She smiled. At least she tried. The cut and swelling on the left side of her mouth made it difficult for the muscles to function properly.

“I hacked into the security system of the pharmacy across the street. They have a camera aimed at the alley where I was attacked. I had to enhance the video since this was quite far away, but you can see everything. The two men attacking me, me defending myself until I had to take those bastards out.” Her voice cracked on the last words. She tried to sound tough, but was not hugely successful. Vinnie returned and handed the tablet computer to Francine. She swiped the screen a few times and handed it to me. “Just tap on the play button and you can watch the whole thing. Unfortunately, maybe fortunately, there isn’t any sound, only the visual.”

“It’s all I need,” I said and tapped the screen. A grainy gray movie started playing. I watched Francine coming out of a door into an alley, followed by two couples who looked like they were partygoers.

“Pause it quickly.” Francine waited until I tapped the screen and looked at her. “This is an invite-only club. They change their location almost weekly to some out-of-use warehouse or building. It’s very elite and underground. This is where the morally and ethically corrupt rich go to close deals that would be way unacceptable anywhere else. Here you can associate with known criminals without anyone ever thinking anything strange. Or talking about it. Everyone there can be investigated for some kind of crime, no matter how petty, violent or white-collar complex. They’re all bastards and arseholes.”

I frowned. “Then why did you go?”

“I got the invite from someone I had worked with in the past. Needless to say, he is not as pure as the driven snow. He did help me expose a human trafficking ring, so I never gave him up to any of the government guys I work for.” She lifted one shoulder. “Anyway, I’ve known that these kinds of clubs have recently been on the government guys’ radars. A lot of designer drugs change hands and back-door deals are made there.”

“And you thought gaining access to this shadow society would win you favour with some law enforcement agency.”

“How did you…” She stopped and sighed. “Yes, I thought it would get me back in their good books.”

“You were in their bad books?” I wasn’t sure what this implied.

“Oh, I might have pissed off a few people when I hacked Interpol’s ever-so-secure system.”

“You did what?” Colin’s voice startled me. He was sitting next to me on the arm of the sofa. I had not heard him move. He was glaring at Francine. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Isn’t it obvious that I would start there to look for you when you disappeared?”

“Can we stay on topic, please?” I didn’t wait for them to respond and turned my attention back to the tablet resting on my lap. Francine’s admission did not go unnoted though. I placed it in a special compartment in my mind to later analyse. I tapped the screen.

“No, wait,” Francine stopped me once again. I paused the video for the second time. “I’ll finish quickly. I was stupid to go. But I really wanted to give Interpol something to like me again, so I went. As soon as I got in, I had a bad feeling. It was as if the bouncer had expected me. I’ve learned a few things from you, Genevieve. I noticed his body language shift when he saw me. He glanced to a table at the back. I got in, had a quick look around and decided to leave. I wasn’t there for more than ten minutes. I didn’t even order a drink. If you rewind this video, you would see me go in.”