H.J. Gaudreau - Betrayal in the Louvre (24 page)

Chapter 47

Jim had slipped off the path and was in the shallow woods between the path and a field.  After just a few moments the car was out of sight.  He was alone.  His pace was slow; each step taken with great precision.  He carefully checked the ground with each foot placement.  He made certain to not break any branches and avoided dry leaves as much as possible.  The stillness of the afternoon weighed him down, slowed his movements.  Not even a bird sang.  He wasn’t wearing the right kind of shoes.  He could feel the heat from the ground leaking through the soles of his loafers.  He was fairly confident in his quiet approach, but was trusting to luck that if anyone was ahead, he’d see them first.  Moving carefully forward he came to a small clearing.  On the other side of the clearing the two-track picked up again.  This wooded two-track and path completely crossed a large field.  Suddenly he realized he was in the tractor traverse; this was how the farmers moved equipment from one field to another without running over crop.  The clearing was where trucks or trailers were parked waiting for harvested grain to be transferred from the field equipment.  At the far side of the clearing sat a brown Mercedes S, engulfed in flames.  He didn’t see anyone near the vehicle. 

Jim instantly realized the danger.  Only two possibilities existed, neither of them very good.  The man was in that car dead or about to be and his killer or killers were in the near vicinity or, the man was alive and maybe watching him right now.

Quickly deciding that discretion was the better part of valor Jim stopped and turned to go back to Eve and the car.  “Excuse me Monsieur Creenshaw.  Why are you leaving in such a hurry?”  The question exploded like a grenade in the silence.  It was the Corsican.  Jim turned back to the clearing and there stood a medium built man with bright blue hair, a nose-ring, tattooed face and wearing a skin-tight black shirt.  Next to him was the owner of the voice. 

Neither the Corsican nor the blue haired kid made an impression on Jim.  Instead, he was focused on the pistol pointed directly at his chest.  “Did you want to join us for our little bonfire?  We were just leaving but I am certain that if you want to stay we can arrange that.”  That comment sent the blue haired kid into a nervous laughter.  The Corsican didn’t even crack a smile.  “I’d rather not,” was all Jim could muster.

Chapter 48

Eve winced as a branch scraped the side of the car.  “There goes the security deposit on this rental,” she thought.  The two-track had a very slight bend with branches and leaves overflowing into the path at this point.  At the bend the branches obstructed her view.  She slowly crept round the brush.  On the far side the trail straightened out once more.  She could see nearly thirty yards straight ahead, but nothing to the sides. 

The two assailants motioned Jim out of his hiding place to the center of the clearing.  “I think it rather rude of you to be spying on us,” said the Corsican.  “Had I known you were coming I would have brought – what do you call them?  Hamboogers.”  The blue haired kid thought this was tremendously funny.  “Unfortunately, we do not have time for one of your cook-outs, no?  So, I believe it is time we put a stop to your spying and allow me to go about my business.”  At that he reached to his young partner and pulled a length of rope from the man’s coat pocket.  Grabbing Jim’s elbows the Corsican stepped behind and began to loop the rope around Jim’s arms.

The Citroën gently ghosted its nose out of the woods.  Eve spotted the three men at the center of a clearing, some twenty yards away.  The first man was their kidnapper!  Across from him stood a strange man, no…make that a strange boy with blue hair!  Between them was her Jim.  It took only a moment, but Eve reacted like a woman possessed.  She mashed the accelerator petal to the floor. 

The car seemed to squat for a moment then leap forward as the front-end shocks were compressed under the sudden acceleration then released.  The car engine roared, dirt sprayed the sides of the little car as she centered the nearest assailant in her sights.  The men all turned in unison as the previously overlooked vehicle bore down on them.  It only took a moment.  Eve shot across the clearing, hitting the Corsican square in the middle of his hip and flipping him up and off the side of the car.  His gun flew out of his hand, sailed straight up, banged off the top of the car and was deflected into the long grass.  The man/boy/thug, having caught the danger just a bit earlier dove out of Eve’s path to the right, rolled in the grass, came up on his feet and sprinted to the Corsican.  Jim, his hands not yet tied had deftly side-stepped the on-rushing Citroën.  The car stopped and Eve opened the door.

“Oh my God, did I hit that man?  Is he all right?”  Eve didn’t have a mean bone in her body and her genuine concern was evident. 

“Eve, he’s fine!  Get back in.  Let’s get out of here!”  Jim was running to the passenger side of the car.  The Corsican was up and both he and blue boy were frantically searching for his gun.  Eve wasn’t slow.  She instantly recognized that maybe she hadn’t hit him hard enough and she was back in the car in a second.  An instant later Eve and Jim were speeding around the clearing, dirt flying and heading for the path they had just traveled. 

In mere moments they had cleared the woods, found highway D36 and were on their way to Paris.  In the distance they could hear the distinctive sounds of a European emergency services siren.  They turned toward Paris and proceeded calmly on their way.  A few moments later a fire truck raced past them.  Jim watched the truck disappear in the rear view mirror, turned to Eve and assured her that no one was following them. 

They came to the road repair bottleneck and successfully passed through it.  Neither was able to put into words the feelings of fear and confusion they were experiencing.  Finally, they reached N118.  Before entering the highway Eve pulled to the side of the road and parked.  Turning to Jim, her voice cracking she said, “You idiot, you could have been killed!” 

“I’m sorry hon.  It sort of seemed like a good idea at the time,” he said with a sympathetic smile.

“Oh Jim, how lame, ‘sounded like a good idea’?  You sound like an airman basic,” her voice a sob mixed with a laugh.

They sat there for a few moments in silence.  “Thank you hon, that was a close one.  I’m sorry I scared you.”  She leaned her forehead against his.  “Jim, don’t ever do something that stupid again.  I put up with 27 years of deployments and separations and late nights.  I don’t need you getting hurt now.”  Jim couldn’t tell if she was more mad than relieved but figured he was in enough trouble that he’d better not ask. 

After a few moments silence Jim whispered, “We’re missing something.  What was that brown car doing at the Louvre?  Why take it out into the sticks and burn it?”   

Eve had regained her composure and was now getting out of the driver’s door.  She walked around to the passenger side.  “Good questions.  I have no idea what the answers are.  But, I do know this.  I’m not driving in Paris.  Push over.” 

Chapter 49

Arriving in the center of Paris they quickly selected a new hotel, parked and entered the lobby.  A small line had formed at the desk and they took up station directly behind a British businessman.  After a few moments a second hotel desk clerk arrived and soon both the businessman and Jim were being helped.  Completing the check-in process the man folded his receipt, pushed it into his pocket and walked through the lobby; Jim and Eve right behind.  Soon they were approaching the elevators, at that moment the man’s cell phone rang.  He stopped, placed his hotel key on the lobby table, answered his phone and, holding the phone with his shoulder attempted to remove several documents from his briefcase.  It was a bad plan.  The phone began to slip; instinctively the man’s right hand went from the briefcase to the phone.  This caused a loss of grip on the briefcase and it crashed to the floor spreading paper about the lobby floor.  Eve immediately bent to assist him in picking the papers up. 

It was a spur of the moment decision.  Jim saw his chance and deftly picked up the man’s room key and replaced it with his own.  Moments later Jim, Eve and the Brit were loading into the elevator.  When the man left Jim turned to Eve and said, “I’m probably getting paranoid but have you noticed how many people seem to know our name, where we’re staying or what we’re doing?”

She nodded and Jim held up the room key.  “I switched keys with the British guy.”

Eve smiled and took the key from Jim.  “That, sir, was a great idea.”

An hour later, having showered and changed clothes Eve was ready for dinner.  Jim, pleased with his James Bond switch of the room key was hungry too.  They exited the hotel’s side door and walked toward the Louvre.  After a short walk they were seated in a pleasant café next to a window overlooking the Rue du Rivoli, just a few hundred yards from the parking garage entrance to the Louvre.

Dinner was wonderful, and they lingered over a bottle of wine and basket of French bread.  They discussed the day’s events and rehashed their adventure.  Jim took a sip of his wine then leaned forward, “Remember what we were talking about before we saw that Mercedes drive by?” 

“Yeah, we were talking about you cutting me off in Marcil’s office.” 

“No Eve, we were past that.  We were talking about how, if Jean’s lab found the formula for the paintings why didn’t the most famous art laboratory in the world?” 

“Yeah, I know.  I just wanted to remind you about cutting me off,” Eve smiled.  “Anyway, maybe the Louvre made a mistake?  Or, maybe Jean was wrong?”  

“Somehow I doubt that.  Remember, we’re talking about the most famous museum in the world.  I just find it very hard to believe that they would miss something like that.  In fact, ya know, I wonder.  Let’s….What time is it in Montreal?” 

“Jim, you know I’m not good at that.  Let’s see.  When we lived in Italy it was six hours earlier in Italy than at home.  No, wait, people called us in the middle of the night so it was six hours later.  But, France is an hour or two different than we were…  I’m not sure, about four hours I think.

“I think we’re good, let’s call Jean.” Jim said.

It was just after 4 P.M. in Montreal.  Jean had just finished teaching her one required undergraduate class and was walking to her office when her cell phone rang.  Eve briefly ran through the events of the past few days, lightly passing over the men with the guns.  Then, almost casually, she asked if there was a chance that Jean had made a mistake or if Jean’s lab was better than the one at the Louvre. 

“Oh, no, absolutely not…” Jean stated emphatically.  “First, I didn’t make any mistakes and second, sadly, my lab isn’t as well equipped as the Louvre’s lab.  But, think about it, they have significantly greater funding.  They’ve purchased the finest spectrometers, ion radiation detection equipment; even some of the world’s best electron microscopes.  Why?  Are you hinting that they disagreed with my findings?  There’s no way.  We’re dead on.  I supervised the tests and we ran them multiple times.”  Jean began to become excited.  “No way were we off on those tests.”  She was emphatic by this time.

“No, no, nothing like that,” Eve said doing her best to downplay the question and even to her own ear it sounded hollow.  Eve then attempted to steer the conversation to small talk and finally was able to gracefully end the call. 

She turned to face Jim.  “It doesn’t seem as if there’s any realistic way the Louvre missed the paint recipe thing,” she said putting the phone back in her purse.  “Something is really odd here.”

“That means somebody is playing a game.  Which, also means that I think someone is trying to steal our tube and Patent.  And, that’s a pretty valuable pair of items that I don’t think we should just give up on.”  Eve could see Jim was getting angry.

“I still think we could go to the police,” she murmured, knowing it was an idea that was dead on delivery. 

“Eve, you and I both know, we’ll never see those things again if we do that.  And, Marcil said he was going to notify every law enforcement office in the country.  What if he did?  Who are they going to believe?  Him or us?  We’d be in jail or tossed out of the country in a heartbeat.  Face it babe, we’re screwed.  We can’t go to the police.”

She looked hard at Jim.  Then she decided she’d had enough of guns, kidnappers and Royal Patents.  “I don’t want to think about this junk any more.  I want to be a tourist.  I want to see Paris,” she said. 

Jim thought about the danger, about a courteous killer, and decided the odds of him finding them while they were being totally random tourists was very small.  “I agree.  Let’s see Paris at night from the Eiffel Tower.”

Chapter 50

Early the next morning Jim and Eve sat in the salon of the hotel and sipped their coffee.  Last night’s optimism had given way to this morning’s depression.  Eve was trying to feel good about the adventure they’d experienced and failing miserably.  Jim was becoming more and more depressed that they’d not been able to recover the sword and other items, and the fact that it now appeared he’d lost the Royal Patent as well.  To add to their concerns, they were feeling the pressure of their airline return tickets.  Their return flight to the States left in three days, and they really hadn’t solved anything, instead they’d found more questions than answers.

“Okay,” Jim said after twenty minutes of near silence, “I’m starting to have some serious questions about our buddy Paul Marcil.  He’s got to be working both sides of the street.”

“I’m not sure I understand what that scene in his office was all about yesterday.  Why so rude.  He’s already holding all the cards,” Eve observed.

“Well, that’s a good question, but I was wondering why Marcil lied to us about the painting on the Patent?”  Jim asked. 

Eve looked up from her croissant.  She stared off into space, thought for a moment and said, “I don’t think the lab techs at the Louve missed that.  They’re supposed to be the best.” 

“I agree.  They didn’t missed anything,” answered Jim.  “I don’t think he knew about the original artist and the paint and the identification via recipes because he didn’t really get the thing authenticated.  He couldn’t.” 

“Oh Jim, that’s a pretty big leap,” Eve cautioned.  “Does it make any sense for him to tell us he had it authenticated and not really do so?  What good is that?”  Eve was doing her best to play Devil’s advocate.

“Hear me out…” Jim insisted.  “I think he didn’t want others in the Louvre to know what he had.  I think he offered us five million bucks to get us to give him the Patent and container.  I think he knew that the sword of Charlemagne, the Coronation Crown and the Holy Ampule all traveled together.  Bill and Jean aren’t the only French Revolution experts around you know.  And, since we found a piece, he knew the rest were probably in the same place.  So, he had some goon follow us.  But, those two guys didn’t like each other.  That’s why when you conked the first one on the head the second one didn’t fix him up or try to get him in the car.  He left him there.  In fact, that first guy acted like he was all alone.  He may not have even known about the second.  Maybe there are two groups trying to get the sword and the other stuff?  Or, maybe the boss sent a second guy to check up on the first?” 

“Oh Jim, you’re becoming quite the conspiracy theorist, aren’t you?  We don’t have any evidence to support that.  How could you prove any of it, even if it were true?” she insisted.

“And,” Jim continued “…remember the blue car that we saw on the drive to Cherhery?”  Eve nodded her head.  “We both commented on it being odd that it was behind us for most of the trip.”  She again nodded her head affirmatively; then took a bite of her croissant. 

“Did you tell anyone where we were going after we left Paris?”  Jim still hadn’t moved his fork. 

“No, I was with you the entire time.”  She spoke slowly, thinking over her answer.

“But that doesn’t mean that I didn’t tell someone.  And, I think I did.”  Jim said thinking through what he was about to say.

“I don’t remember you telling anyone where we were going.” Eve offered her support.

“Remember when we met with Marcil?  He got me talking about what we were going to do while his laboratory validated the Patent.  I told him we were going to go look at some of the battlefields where my Great grandfather fought.  I told him what division he fought with…and, I specifically mentioned the town of Sedan.  Well, we were only a few miles short of Sedan when we were at Cherhery and Cheveuges,” Jim explained.  “It wouldn’t take a lot of research to show that the 32nd was busy in those towns too.”

“I have kind of wondered who the skinny guy was calling when we were in the car.  It sounded like he was reporting in or something like that,” Eve offered. 

“Exactly, he was reporting to his boss.  And, just how did not one, but two people know where we were and that we were after something worth a ton of coin?  You know who I think that boss is?  Paul Marcil!”  Jim was becoming even more sure of himself.

“I must admit, you’re putting together a pretty sound case, but it’s all circumstantial.  We don’t have any real proof.”  Eve was trying to be responsible and rational, but Jim could tell he was winning her over.

“Then here’s my final argument,” Jim said defiantly.  “Yesterday, what was that all about?  We explained everything to him.  We discover something they haven’t found in over two hundred years, and we get treated like dirt.  What happened to his offer to buy the Patent and the container?  The five million?  Gone.  I’m sure he lied about that too.”  Jim was getting excited.  “Oh, and what about the odd circumstance of the same car, driven by the same lunatic that kidnapped us, driving around in the parking garage under the very building where Marcil works?”  Jim sat back in his chair looking very sure of himself.

Eve thought for a moment.  “Okay, assuming you’re right on all that, why go out and burn the car?”

“They were dumping the car because we had seen it and could probably identify it to the police.  It’s the only tie between the skinny kidnapper guy and Marcil.”  Jim was pleased with himself.  He put his fork down, folded his arms and looked very serious.  

Eve looked at him, noticed the very serious look on his face then smiled.  “You could pull off that tough guy pose if you didn’t have so much gray over your ears.”

Jim started to laugh.  “Seriously hon, Marcil’s a bad guy.  I’m sure of it.” 

She studied Jim’s face.  “All right, I agree.  But what do we do now?” 

“I didn’t say I had all the answers.  I just have the sight picture.  We’re going to have to think this over a bit.

They left the rest of their breakfast on the table and walked out to the street.  Paris street life was fully awake and the sights were straight from a movie.  Eve looked at Jim.  “You do know how to show a girl a good time,” she said with a grin.

They began to walk toward Notre Dame Cathedral when Jim stopped and grabbed Eve’s arm.  “I’ve got an idea.  Look, we’re pretty sure Marcil’s behind our little misadventure in Cherhery and Cheveuges right?  We think he’s the boss that fancy kidnapper guy was phoning.  So, if that guy delivered the sword and the other stuff to Marcil, and it looks like he did; then I think the delivery was at the museum.  That’s why we saw his car in the garage.  That means he’s got to move the boxes out of the museum maybe even the Patent.  We need to follow Marcil.  He’s got to move the stuff and I’ll bet it’s tonight.”

“You and your following people!  What are we going to do?  Jump a man with a gun, tie him up and point the sword at his heart?”  Eve was not liking this new adventure one bit.  “Why not just go to the cops now?”

“Hon, Marcil has contacts in the police.  We don’t know who or how many.  If we approach the wrong guy or the wrong detective is assigned to the case we’re in deep trouble.  Knowing Marcil, he’d have us in jail for months.”

“Okay, that’s a good reason.  But why follow Marcil?  He had all last night to get rid of the sword and the other box.  Why didn’t he move the stuff out then?” 

“Because he was lazy, there was that festival and too many people on the street, because the Mercedes had just delivered it, because we were there that afternoon, because all the investigative staff was looking into us and our story, because…hell, I don’t know…”  Jim paused, then brightened. 

“Wait, yes I do.  Of course he couldn’t move it last night.  The Louvre had that charity event and the opening of a new display that he put together.  He was too busy.  I’ll bet he hobnobbed with the movers and shakers of the Paris art world all night.  Remember he was pretty proud of that event when he told us all about it.  Look hon, all I can say is let’s hope he didn’t.  It’s our only chance.  Besides, we’ve been to cathedrals before, this one’s just the same.”

She laughed, “Oh, I’m sure that will go over big with the Paris Chamber of Commerce tourist guy.” 

“Eve, you know I’m right.  We’ve got to follow him and get that sword and our Patent back.”  Jim was getting serious again.

“Well, it’s a plan.  I’m not saying it’s a good one, but it’s a plan.”

“…not exactly, but I’m putting one together,” Jim said with a smile.

“I’m not going to like this I can tell,” she replied.

They began walking back to their hotel.  Suddenly Eve stopped.  “Jim,” she said.  Jim immediately noticed the sober tone of her voice and turned to her.  “If they burned the car because we had seen it and could describe it to the police…don’t they have to get rid of us too?”