[JJ06] Quicksand (8 page)

CHAPTER 14

I grabbed the edge of the porcelain sink and took several deep breaths.  This wasn’t how this was supposed to go. Nothing important was supposed to be stolen. And nobody was supposed to get hurt.

Hugo was either roughed up and on the run, or dead. North wasn’t supposed to use violence. Even if Hugo gave North a reason to kill him, wouldn’t North have destroyed his life instead? Unless...What if Hugo didn’t
care
about his life being destroyed? Then North wouldn’t have a hold over him. Hugo wanted to tell something to Lane. That’s why he had to be stopped.

I gripped the sink even more firmly, trying to convince myself that my life wasn’t spinning out of control. Right now it felt like the room itself was spinning. I’d always thought that was such a silly expression, but at that moment I couldn’t deny the unsteadiness of my legs and how the walls felt like they were coming closer and stifling me.

I splashed water on my face and flushed the toilet paper note. I watched it spinning down the drain along with my life.

Once I’d gotten a hold of myself, I returned to the room. I found Lane pacing, looking like he was going to punch a hole through the wall.

“I need to get out of here,” Lane said. “Want to go on a walk?”

“It’s snowing.”

“Not too badly yet, but we can catch a cab if you want. I need to look at one more thing at the museum today.”

“Let’s walk. I think the fresh air will be good for me.”

As we walked to the Louvre, Lane bummed a cigarette off Marius. Not a good sign. He only smoked when he was stressed and needed to think. I doubted Marius would notice such a detail, so it wasn’t for show. Lane wasn’t faking that he was rattled.

Marius nearly lost us when he stopped to cup his hands and light another cigarette for himself, but he knew where we were going, so he easily caught up. Our shadow was only a formality at this point anyway. It was the mental coercion that was holding us to the plan. If Lane wanted to flee, I had no doubt that he would have managed for us to be on the other side of the world by now.

In spite of the light snow, the inner courtyard of the Louvre was packed with two lines that snaked slowly toward the entrance. Pre-paid tickets allowed us to wait in the shorter line, which still took over ten minutes. A little snow wasn’t deterring Saturday afternoon tourists.

I pulled off my wet coat as we rode the escalator down into the lobby. The inside of the Louvre was even more packed than the outside lines suggested. At the sight of the heavy crowd, Lane’s shoulders relaxed.

“This is more like it,” he said. “Let’s go.”

We maneuvered through the crowds, Marius close beside us. Methodically, Lane led us through the four wings of the museum. We passed by priceless paintings, sculptures, and artifacts, but I couldn’t focus on any of them.

“You don’t have to keep things from me,” I snapped as we entered the last wing. “Remember you two already told me which painting was important.”

Lane’s eyes drew t
ogether in confusion. “You think I’m leading you around to confuse you? Patience, Jones.”

“If you haven’t noticed, I don’t have any left.”

Marius laughed. “She’s great, eh?”

Lane glanced at his watch. “Almost done.”

After we’d walked through the last room in the top floor of the Sully wing, Lane led us back to the main lobby, where we’d be able to exit through the glass pyramid.

We caught a taxi back to the hotel, and Marius left us alone in our room. Lane sat down at the desk and opened a laptop computer.

“Let me help,” I said.

“I’m glad to see you’re willing to throw yourself into this project as wholeheartedly as you do everything else,” he said. “But in this case, we’re covered. It’s a three-man job to borrow the painting. One technology man to circumvent security, one actor to play the role of a museum guard, and one generalist to supply a painting-size box.”

“It can’t be that easy. What are you going to do with the painting?”

“North was telling the truth. It’s not morally objectionable.”

“Then why won’t you tell me what it is you’re doing?”

Lane closed the computer and walked up to me, taking my hands in his. “The reason I’m doing this,” he said slowly, “is so he won’t ruin both of our lives. The more involved you are, the harder it will be for you to step away once this is over.”

“You think I’ll decide I want a life of crime?”

“By getting you mixed up with these men, I’ve already pulled you into this world more than I ever wanted to. Lives have a way of getting away from us when we’re not looking. I want to keep you away from this as much as I can. Will you let me do that?”

“Would it make any difference if I said no?”

“Don’t say no.”

Lane was up for most of the night preparing. Between my apprehension and my curiosity, I don’t know how I managed to fall asleep, but I managed to sleep for a few hours. When I woke up before dawn, Lane was standing at the window. He turned when he heard me sit up.

“I’m glad you’re up,” he said. “I have to go out to finish preparing.” 

“Did you get any sleep?”

He ran a hand through his hair and looked back out the window. “The important thing is that it’s not snowing.”

“Why is that important?”

A knock sounded on the door to the hotel room. Marius popped his head in without bothering to wait.

“We’ll be back soon,” Lane said to me.

There was no way I was getting back to sleep, so I got up and took a shower. Even in the opulent hotel, the Parisian shower was small and only half shielded by a glass door. The hot water didn’t help me relax.

As I dressed in the last of my clean clothes, I heard a voice in the hotel room, and found North waiting for me on the sofa. Dressed in a tailored gray suit, he was speaking on a cell phone with the newspaper spread out in front of him. When he saw me, he gave me a friendly nod. I couldn’t imagine him killing someone, but looks can be deceiving.

I had to get my feelings under control. I couldn’t show fear. I couldn’t. Not if I wanted to get out of this.

While North finished his phone conversation, I gathered my dirty laundry. “I need some laundry done,” I said as soon as he hung up, dropping my clothes in a pile at North’s feet.

“Good morning to you, too.”

“How can you sit there so calmly like that? Shouldn’t you be helping? At the very least, aren’t you nervous?”

“I wouldn’t be very good at what I do if I got nervous, would I? And who says I’m not helping?” He walked over to the room’s phone and called the front desk. After hanging up, he said, “You’ll have your clothes in a few hours. Care to join me for breakfast?”

“Is that a question?”

“I’m trying to be polite. But you’re right, I’ve already ordered.”

My wet hair dripped onto my neck. I rubbed the water droplets away with my hand.

“Better dry your hair,” he said. “It’s cold out there today.”

I slammed the bathroom door before picking up the hotel hair dryer. I watched my black hair swirl around my face in the mirror.
Jaya Anand Jones, what are you doing here?
By the time I was done a few minutes later, my laundry had been picked up and our breakfast delivered.

I took a mug of coffee and sat in the chaise lounge window seat, watching the dark sky brighten with the sunrise.

“I thought you liked pastries,” he said.

“How can you eat right now?”

“Lane knows what he’s doing.”

“I know. But this is
the Louvre
.”

North’s forehead creased as he looked at me. “You really don’t know, do you?”

“Know
what
? You
two haven’t told me what’s going on today, remember?”

“He’s done it before.”

“I know what he used to be.”

“I’m not talking about what he’s done in general,” North said.

This was getting tiresome. He wanted me to bite, to beg for more information, but I was done playing along. Lane was doing what North wanted. I didn’t have to be polite to his blackmailer. I took another sip of coffee and turned back to the window.

“Lane Peters,” North continued, his voice barely above a whisper, “has robbed the Louvre before.”

CHAPTER 15

I coughed as my coffee went down the wrong pipe, then I stood and faced North. “That’s not possible,” I said, in between coughs. “He would have told me.”

“Would he?”

“I don’t know why you’re doing this—”

“I’m sorry,” North said. “I don’t mean to mock you. I thought you’d feel
better
knowing he’s pulled this off before.”

In spite of the high ceiling, I felt claustrophobic in the hotel suite. Had I misjudged Lane? I knew he was once a thief, but everything at the Louvre was of cultural and historical significance. It wasn’t the type of thing he would have done.

Unless I didn’t know him at all.

Lane said North was a man of his word. But that was before Hugo’s suspicious disappearance cast doubt on North’s word. Had North killed Hugo to keep him from telling Lane something? Could he have been killed by someone else?

“How,” I said in between deep breaths, “could you possibly think that would make me feel better?” 

“I’m sorry about all this, you know. I wish it hadn’t come to this.”

“You could call it off.”

“I’m afraid I can’t do that.”

“You’re calling the shots. You can do whatever you want.”

He looked at me with a curious smile. “You really are quite innocent, my girl. Forces are in motion that I’m powerless to stop.”

“Difficult is different from impossible.”

“Ha! The more time I spend with you, the more I see why he likes you. How did you get mixed up with him?”

“You already know the answer to that.”

“True. But I thought it would be nice to hear it from you. God knows we could both use the distraction.”

“In that case, I’d rather hear more about you. How did you get into this life of being a master criminal?”

“Such an active imagination you have. I’m simply an art dealer with humble beginnings.”

I stared at him, from his perfect hair down to his fashionable wingtips. “You really are, aren’t you?”

“Why yes.” He flashed me a charming smile. “I knew you were a smart one. Not smart enough to stay clear of Lane, though.”

“I’d like some time to myself.”

North frowned. “Look, I really am sorry—”

“Please.”

With a silent nod, North respected my wishes and left. In some ways, that was worse. Confused about what to think of both Lane and North, I didn’t know where to direct my anger. I had no idea who I could trust.

I didn’t have much time alone with my own thoughts. By the time I’d sucked down a second cup of coffee, Lane burst through the door, followed by North, Marius, and Dante.

“I’m telling you,” Lane was saying, “he’s not answering
any
of his numbers. We have to call this off.”

“Not an option,” North said.

“What’s going on?” I demanded.

“I was afraid something like this would happen,” North said. “Lane has been out of the game for long enough that his contacts aren’t the most up-to-date. One of them has decided not to participate.”

“So you’re postponing things?” I asked, wondering if I was relieved or scared. How long would I have to stay a prisoner in Paris?

“No,” North said. “Everything goes on as planned. All this means is that we go with a back-up plan.”

“I don’t
have
a back-up plan,” Lane said. “You didn’t leave me enough time—”

“Who said you were the one with the back-up?”

“If you didn’t need me in the first place—”

“Oh, we needed you,” North said. “You’re the one who came up with the plan, and you’re the one who’s going to pull it off. It’s your
people
who are replaceable.”

“It’s Sig,” Lane said tentatively, “who’s fallen off the grid.”

“The generalist.” North drummed his fingers together. “Jaya, it’s your lucky day.”

A heavy feeling told me it was quite the opposite.

“What are you saying?” Lane asked.

“All Sig had to do was deliver the box. It’s essential, but by far the least skilled job. It requires no special training. It only needs someone who functions well under stress. After learning about her exploits in Scotland and India, I’d say we have our third man to help you: Jaya.”

Lane stared at him. Were his neck muscles bulging? “Are you crazy? Absolutely not.”

“She wanted to help from the start,” North pointed out.

“I’m right here,” I said.

North grinned. “What do you say, Jaya?”

My thudding heart gave way to a serene calmness. “I’m your back-up plan,” I repeated softly.

“Yes,” North said at the same time Lane said, “No.”

“This means you need me to pull this off,” I stated.

“Why can’t it be Marius?” Lane asked.

North shook his head. “No. It can’t be Marius or Dante. Jaya will come through.”

“I will,” I said. “But only after you give me half an hour alone with Lane—at a location with nobody listening.”

“I hardly think—”

“If I’m wrong that you need me...” I let my voice trail off.

North’s nostrils flared. “Very well. A few minutes can’t hurt. You’ve got ten. You know what I’ll do to you both if you don’t come through for me.”

The air froze my cheeks as we walked along the Eiffel Tower promenade. It was too cold to stay still. The sky remained clear, but the wind reminded me it was winter. I pulled my hat down over my ears and tugged my coat more tightly around me.

Glancing over my shoulder, I saw Marius and Dante fifty yards behind us.

“Sorry this had to be outside,” Lane said, wrapping his own jacket more closely around him. “But it’s the best way to be sure they can’t hear us. Are you all right? What’s so urgent we needed to talk before we’re free of North forever in a few hours?”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” I asked.

His eyes narrowed behind his glasses. “Tell you what?”

“That you’ve done this before—stolen from
the Louvre
before?

Lane stopped short. “
That’s
what this is about?”

“Stealing priceless art from a cultural institution isn’t what I thought—” I couldn’t continue. I looked down at the ground, feeling foolish for convincing myself Lane was what I wanted him to be.

Lane groaned. “I knew my youthful cockiness would come back to bite me.”

My attention snapped back to his face. “So you admit it?”

“No, that’s not what I mean. I was good at what I did, and it’s true I did some stupid, stupid things when I was young. But I never stole anything of cultural significance. Not on purpose, at least. Jewelry primarily, and sometimes art, but from private collections. You know all that. But several years ago...”

“What?”

“There was a theft from the Louvre that was
attributed
to me.” He watched my expression carefully as he spoke.

I squinted at him in the cold, bright sunlight, the silhouette of the Eiffel Tower behind him.

“I never,” he continued, “set the record straight. At the time, it was good for my reputation to let people think I’d pulled off something like that. By the time I thought better of it, it was too late.”

“Wait. That means North has confidence in your ability to steal from the Louvre that’s based on a lie.”

“I can do this, Jones.” His breath was visible in the cold air between us. “I didn’t want you to be involved, but the role you have to play isn’t big. Technically, you’re not even doing anything illegal.”

“Besides conspiring,” I pointed out.

“Well, there’s that. But it doesn’t matter. I’ll give you a disguise so you won’t look like you, and there won’t be any way for any of this to be traced to you. I’ll make sure of that. Only—”

“Only
what
?”

“Nothing.”

“You can’t start saying something like that and then—”

“I was wondering,” Lane said, “whether North planned all along for you to be involved. Then he’ll have a hold over you, like he does with me. But it’s a stupid thought. That’s not his style.”

“After what happened to Hugo, how can we trust North? Are you sure we should go through with this at all?”

“We don’t have
any
good choices.” Lane shook his head. “I’ve learned to trust my instincts. North sticks to his word. It’s not a matter of trust. If he didn’t, his reputation would be destroyed. He’d be ruined. If North killed him, Hugo must have given him no choice.”

“How can you say that?”

“I’m not excusing what North might have done. I’m saying why our situation is different. Hugo had more of a conflicted conscience than anyone I’ve ever worked with. If he decided to take North down—”

“Then any gentleman’s agreement would go out the window.”

“I think Hugo was trying to do exactly that. He was trying to tell me something at the museum. You picked up on it, too. That’s why you went to see him, wasn’t it?”

I nodded, my face numb from the cold.

“I couldn’t ask you about it while North was there, but that was dumb, Jaya.”

“I’m the only reason we found the blood—” The words caught in my throat.

“It doesn’t change what we do today. Today, we get out of the Louvre without handcuffs, and free from the threat of North destroying our lives. Once we’ve lived up to our end of the bargain, then we can see if we can find out the truth about what happened to Hugo. All right?”

My attention shifted to two approaching figures. Marius and Dante strode toward us, their coats billowing in the wind. “They’re coming for us, Lane.”