Gauguin Connection, The (8 page)

“But since they are sold as the real thing, it makes it an unforgivable crime. It seems like dumb luck that none of the pieces we’ve insured have been discovered to be forgeries so far.”

“There is no such thing as dumb luck.” A look at his lowered eyebrows made me realise that my comment had annoyed him. “Sorry. To return to my previous topic, I started looking for investigators or agencies in
the cities and areas where these pieces turned up, but could find none. At least not anyone who specialised in finding missing art. Some of these people talked about the private investigator being local, yet I couldn’t find anyone or any agency registered locally. Again, it wouldn’t have been uncommon, but it stood out as a highly unlikely coincidence when it happened in each and every case.”

“I have to agree with you on that.” He sounded reluctant. “I’m still hoping for a connection here, Genevieve. You seem to have strayed from the original case.”

I stared at the wall monitors for a few moments while collecting my thoughts. “There is a connection. I know it.” I turned to Phillip. “Please give me more time to pursue all the clues that Colin gave me.”

“How sure are you about the connections?”

“When have I ever had a suspicion that turned out to be nothing?”

“Hmm. Point taken. Next question. How sure are you about Colin?”

It took me a moment to reply. “As much as it pains me to admit this about a thief, I believe he was being straightforward with me.”

“Genevieve, you have to be sure about this. Having this thug know your address is not safe. You should really consider phoning the police.”

“He is definitely not a thug. The Russian murderer was a thug. Colin is, well, he is suave.”

“Suave, as in James Bond suave? I never had you pegged as a romantic.”

“Are you out to insult me today? First you call my search whimsical and now you call me a romantic. My assessment of Colin was purely professional. How could you even think any different?”

Phillip did not answer me for almost a minute. He stood up and faced me. “I did not mean to offend you. There are moments that I forget what an extraordinary person you are. You know, law enforcement agencies often make use of criminals to help them solve cases. Maybe you should consider asking this Colin for his help.”

“Never!” The denial exploded through my whole system. “He’s everything I abhor. There is a reason why society has laws. Anyone thinking he is above the law shows a clear lack of respect. I will not invite that kind of behaviour and mentality into my life. No way.”

A small smile pulled at the corner of his mouth. “Never say never.”

“He so much as suggested that we’ll be working together and I told him in no uncertain terms that we will not be working together.”

Just as Phillip started to say something, the cell phone in his hand started ringing. He gave the screen a quick glance and moved towards the door. “I have to take this.”

My acceptance or an answer was not required, so I returned to my computer. There was a lot more research to be done. Five minutes later Phillip was back in my viewing room with his cell phone still against his ear, speaking into it.

“Yes, I’m with her now. Just hold on a moment.” He pressed the phone against the front of his suit jacket. “It’s Manny. He wants to speak to both of us.”

“Please tell me you didn’t say anything about Colin,” I whispered urgently.

“I was planning on doing that. Why shouldn’t I?”

“Phillip, please.” I didn’t need the added complication of Manny’s opinion about Colin’s visit. For all I knew, he would want me to welcome Colin back into my apartment so that he could arrest him.

“Give me one good reason not to tell him.”

I needed to tell Phillip my true reason, but was loath to. I had seldom felt as conflicted as this. Colin was, after all, a criminal. Yet the man who had seen something in me no one else had deserved an honest answer. “He challenges me. He intrigues me. And I know I can learn from him. If Manny finds out about Colin, he will take him away from me.”

Some time back I had greatly offended Phillip when I had bemoaned the lack of interesting people in my life. Once he had moved past the unintentional insult, he had understood that for me most people were tediously predictable. For me most people held no mystery. Not Colin.

Phillip shook his head. “You had to go and pick the only reason why I wouldn’t tell him.”

An insistent sound penetrated the confines of Phillip’s jacket. It was the voice of an irate Manny calling to us. Phillip gave a wry smile and with a nod put Manny on speaker.

“Answer me! You bloody—”

“Manny, you’re on speaker,” Phillip said, quickly interrupting any further tirade.

“Oh. Why did you make me wait so long?” His voice dripped with suspicion.

“Genevieve and I had to clarify something.”

“To do with the case?”

“With another issue.” Technically he wasn’t lying and I wished that this kind of quick thinking came naturally to me. I was simply not a good liar. Which was why I was so proud of my success with Jacques.

“Oh,” Manny said again and cleared his throat. “Well then, hello, Doc.”

“Hello, Manny.”

“Yes. Well.” His inappropriate response made me smile. Time away had not made him any more comfortable with me. He cleared his throat again. “I received more test results from the autopsy on the girl.”

“Have you identified her yet?” I knew that the girl’s identity was a key that would lead to many new avenues to pursue.

“No. My people are working on it, as well as the local police, but no one has found anything yet.”

“You’ve had four weeks. How can you not have found anything?”

“What Genevieve wants to say”—Phillip gave me a warning glare—“is that the girl’s identity will answer a lot of questions.”

“I know that.” By the sound of Manny’s voice, I was sure his face was red, his cheeks puffed, a vein popping out on his forehead and his hands balled in tight fists. “May I continue with the results?”

“Please do.” I guessed he was being sarcastic again.

“In the first autopsy report, the doctor said that she had had”—there was a rustle of papers—“carpal tunnel syndrome. The doc reckoned that she had done some repetitive work with her hands.”

“It is a very painful condition for anyone to have. All that pressure on the median nerve,” I said.

“What’s the median nerve?” Phillip looked interested.

“It’s the nerve that makes the thumb side of the hand feel and move. The area in the wrist where the nerve enters the hand is called the carpal tunnel. When there is excessive pressure, from typing, writing, painting or any other work involving the hands, it causes swelling in this area, which pinches the nerve.”

“You just had to go and ask,” Manny groaned.

“She was rather young for this.” I ignored him. “It usually appears in people over thirty. Did the doctor say how bad it was?”

More papers rustled through the speaker of the cell phone. “I can’t see anything in the report here. I’ll have to ask him. Is it important?”

“Most likely not. Knowing this is enough. But that was in the first report. What did the new results render?”

“Render?” Manny said the word as if trying it for the first time. “It rendered a lot of different chemicals deeply embedded in the folds of her skin. Deep enough to make the scientist-people believe that she was working with this stuff every day.”

“What stuff? Could you please be more factual?” I turned away from another one of Phillip’s warning glances. I needed as many facts as possible if I were to prove that a connection between it all, a pattern, existed.

“I can’t even pronounce half of the stuff, so I’ll just put it on the network and you can access it from your EDA computer. But the scientist-people told me that all those chemicals combined pointed to materials that artists would use, especially painters.”

“I knew it.” I couldn’t keep the triumph out of my voice.

“You knew what? Phillip, what did she know? What didn’t you tell me? No,
why
didn’t you tell me?” It sounded like Manny was ready to climb through the phone.

“Manny, she didn’t know anything. Yesterday she did a lot of research and found some things that made her suspect that the girl was an artist.”

“What things?”

“Just a few rather unspecific things.” To my own ears I sounded like I was lying. I really didn’t want to tell Manny about the murdered artists. That would lead to questions that could not be answered without mentioning certain poets who declared artworks forgeries. With only my facial expressions I appealed to Phillip to support me in this. When he didn’t look particularly impressed, I mouthed the words, “Please trust me.”

He rolled his eyes and turned his head away from me. “She just had a hunch. Since there was no evidence to back it up I didn’t consider telling you about it.”

“Are the ships from Russia also a hunch?” Manny sounded justifiably suspicious.

“Yes.”

“
Hmph.” There was a long, pregnant silence on the phone. “I’ll send you what I managed to get at such short notice. I don’t suggest you print this out. You’ll destroy an entire forest. Would it be too much to ask for a report on all you’ve unearthed so far?”

“I’ll get Genevieve to send it to you as soon as possible.”

“I understand that it’s late Friday afternoon, but could I have it by tomorrow?”

“To do what with?” I immediately regretted my quick mouth.

“To investigate.” He broke the last word into sharply enunciated syllables.

“No problem. I’ll send it.” My grimace brought a smile to Phillip’s face.

“And I will come in on Monday so that we can discuss the report and also any new discoveries you might make over the weekend.”

“I’m not going to work this weekend.” I took great exception at the tone Manny used to deliver what should have been a request. “I’ve already put an immense number of hours into this case. I need a weekend to relax.”

Phillip’s eyes stretched at my uncharacteristic need for relaxation. “Maybe you could make an exception this weekend, Genevieve. I’m sure Manny would like us to make more progress than they’ve managed. Of course you’ll be compensated for this.”

“Only because you asked, I will do it.” I moved closer and addressed the cell phone. “I don’t take orders from anyone.”

There was a long silence. Phillip switched the speakerphone off and left the viewing room, most likely to placate Manny. I shook my head at the complexities of social and professional relations and waited for Phillip to return. I didn’t have to wait very long.

“Did you have to provoke him like that?”

“I only spoke my mind.”

“Which in Manny’s world is extreme provocation even on a good day.” He sat down with a sigh. “What are you going to put in your report?”

“Everything I have found so far with the exception of the poets and the murdered artists.” It was much easier to be deceptive in writing.

“Don’t you think he ought to know about the artists? You were the one who pointed out that they had been murdered with Eurocorps weapons.”

“And you were the one who pointed out that we had no proof that those were Eurocorps weapons.”

“Genevieve.” My name held the frustrated acceptance that he was fighting a losing battle.

“Give me this weekend. I will send the report to Manny tonight and work on the rest over the weekend. He’s sending me the ship information. Hopefully between that and some other ideas I have, I will be able to give him more on Monday.”

“You have until Monday. When Manny arrives here on Monday you are going to tell him everything that you’ve discovered so far.” He stopped me with a lifted hand when I wanted to speak. “This is not a simple art fraud case, Genevieve. There has been the murder of this girl and, if you are correct, many more murders. We are working under the greatest confidence looking into a possible case of the abuse of power in the EDA and Eurocorps. For the love of God, there is even the theft of who knows how many weapons.”

“Eight hundred and thirty-seven. That they know of.”

“What?” Phillip looked disoriented. His eyes widened with comprehension and if possible he looked even more serious. “Oh, yes, of course. What I’m trying to get through to you is that this is different. You can’t look at it as one of our usual cases. Please, for my sake, be careful. I didn’t anticipate this case to be dangerous.”

“Phillip,” I said with a frown, “it started with a murder. How could you possibly think that it was not dangerous?”

“You’re right.” He looked defeated. “And if I had the smallest hope that it would do any good, I would try to take you off this case. But I know you too well. You’ve got your teeth into this and won’t let go. At least just promise me if that thief comes around this weekend, you’ll be careful. Don’t hesitate to scream and run. Give me your word.”

Knowing how much stock Phillip placed in my word, I thought about this carefully before committing myself to anything. “Agreed. I give you my word that I will be careful. If anything happens that could possibly put my life in danger, I will first phone you, then the police.”