Murder on the Hill (19 page)

The not-so-glamorous assistant held up a wooden board with a fabric backing to it. Attached to the fabric hung a dozen gold and silver-coloured, probably platinum, watches.

“Twelve legit Breitling Transocean timepieces,” Buscemi-lookalike said with a grin. “Full provenance, paperwork and cases provided.”

A murmur of excitement and appreciation broke out among the hundred-strong gathering of scumbags and villains. Even Cordi was impressed. Her face had gone from stone-cold terror to intrigue.

“How much do they go for?” I asked Cole. Our legs were touching, and I could feel his warmth seep into my skin. I had to resist running my hand down his thigh.

“Six grand a pop retail, depending on model,” he whispered. “But they’ll go for cheaper than that here today.”

“So, why don’t we start the bidding at twenty g’s?” the auctioneer said, and immediately Ivanov’s hand went up. “Thirty,” he said, setting out his stall. A groan rang out as a number of interested parties were suddenly now not so interested.

On it went, for a full thirty minutes, one auction after the other, watches, cars, drugs, even shady businesses, all went for big money. Ivanov snagged at least half a dozen items, bullying the other bidders with his spending power.

Cole won the bidding for a stolen Mercedes SLK, which brought a smile of joy from Cordi. This was so that he would get access to the transaction room at the end—where I would be waiting, if things went to plan.

I stifled a yawn, still getting over my hangover, waiting for the auction to end when Cole stiffened and leaned forward with interest. I zoned back in and listened to the auctioneer.

The place had quietened to a tense hush. It seemed everyone was now entirely focussed on the auctioneer.

“And now, for the penultimate lot,” he said. “One of the main attractions of this auction and one I know many of you have made the journey for. Kaley, if you would, please.”

The girl sighed and stepped off the podium. She bent over, flashing her lacy panties at everyone—but even that didn’t bring out a reaction—and picked up a black wooden trunk. With some effort she hauled it up onto the podium and opened the lid.

Everyone leaned forward, the sound of chair legs scraping on concrete ringing out, reminding me of end-of-class time at school.

I had to stand up on tiptoes to see over the crowd. In the trunk were three slabs of gold bullion. I gasped, seemingly at the same time as everyone.

“Yes, ladies and gentlemen, I shit you not. What you’re seeing is real. It goes without saying that the seller of this item has done something that many of us have been trying to do for decades. And it’s my honour to sell the shit out of his unique lot. Okay, so let’s do this properly, shall we. Everyone sit down, shut up, and count your money. Serious bids only; treasures like this don’t come around very often.”

Kaley the sidekick didn’t hide her expression of disgust at the leering smiles of the gangsters in attendance, but it wasn’t her they were excited about.

“Is that the Nazi gold?” Cordi asked, keeping her voice hushed.

“Yep,” Cole whispered, his expression fierce and determined. “It’s why we’re here. Scumbags who deal in this are going to get what’s coming to them. Harley, when the bidding nears the end, I’ll cause the distraction and you get through that door.”

The butterflies just up and died in my guts. I wanted to throw up with nerves, but I just nodded and smiled through it.
I can do this
, I told myself.

I scanned the warehouse and realised Hitler himself could resurrect right in the middle of the room, wearing nothing but a thong and a feather fascinator, and no one would notice. All their attentions were on the gold and the gold only.

The bidding was feverish, the auctioneer barely able to keep up.

Higher and higher it went, approaching over a million pounds with no sign of slowing down. Ivanov, as expected, was leading the bid. Eventually it started to slow down. The bidding was now between Ivanov and a frail older gangster with bright white hair, his hands and arms so thin it was miraculous that he could raise it to make his bid.

Cordi was literally on the edge of her seat with anticipation.

“One point two million to Snowy, going once, going twice, going—”

“One point three,” Cordi called out.

I shot her a look and whispered behind my hand. “What are you doing?”

“A new bidder’s in the game,” the auctioneer said, beaming a smile, no doubt counting his commission with each new bid.

“I just wanted to get as much out of them as possible,” Cordi said, huddled close to me. “And I got carried away, sorry.”

“What are you going to do with Nazi gold?” I asked.

“Sell it and pay off Alex,” she said with a mischievous grin.

“One point three to the lady at the back,” the auctioneer said, first looking at Snowy, who shook his head, then to Ivanov, who hadn’t even looked around. He just stared straight ahead.

Crap, this wasn’t good.

“Going once, then, to the lady at the back, going twice, going three times…”

The panic on Cordi’s face must have mirrored mine. No one else was bidding; this wasn’t good. I looked to Cole with wide eyes, begging him to do something. I couldn’t read his expression. Everyone was staring at Ivanov, waiting, but he remained impassive.

“One point four,” I said, trying to buy time. Cordi and Cole grimaced and glared at me. I shrugged. What was I supposed to do?

“One point five,” Cordi called out.

“What are you doing?” I said. “This isn’t a game.”

“Things are getting feisty with the girls, it seems,” the auctioneer said.

“One point six,” I shouted, staring at Cordi, all the time hoping someone else would jump in.

“Two million,” Cordi said, raising her hand.

“Well now, the lady likes the gold. Any advance on two million?”

“Two point five,” Ivanov finally said with a gravelly voice. Again, he didn’t even bother to look round, just kept his attention on the podium and the gold.

“That’s enough,” I whispered to Cordi. “No more.”

She looked disappointed but agreed.

“Going once, going twice, going three times… Sold! To Mr. Ivanov.” The auctioneer struck his gavel on the podium and clapped his hands. Ivanov just made him a very wealthy man with his commission.

The patrons in the warehouse grumbled a low murmur and fidgeted in their chairs. The atmosphere became charged with anticipation and excitement. Kaley left the podium and returned a minute later with the last item covered with a black silk sheet.

She removed it unceremoniously and held up the necklace of black diamonds, moving it from one side to the other so everyone could get a good look.

“Good job, Kaley,” the auctioneer said with a leer in his eye as he watched her ass wiggle during her little parade. “Ladies and gents, we come to our last item of today’s auction, and what a gem we have for you—no pun intended.”

“That’s it,” Cordi said to me. “The one in the book, the cursed necklace.”

It certainly looked like it. This confirmed it, then: Sean and Johnny were talking about the same thing. Given that it was complete, they had definitely done a fake on it. I knew at least one of the gems was missing and presumed to be with Ivanov.

While the auctioneer regaled the audience on the cursed provenance of the necklace and the black diamonds’ value, I scanned the audience and found Sean and Johnny. They had come out of their hiding place to watch the bidding. They stood near the front to the left; their body language was of nervous energy.

I’d be nervous too if I was in a room full of armed gangsters while trying to sell them a bunch of fake diamonds.

As the bidding started, the two men were looking more and more tense.

It quickly reached over three million, Ivanov still yet to bid. He’d likely wait till the end and blow everyone away. It seemed everyone knew that if Ivanov was interested in the item, it would be his, but they were hoping he wasn’t into diamonds as much as Nazi gold.

I knew different, however.

When the bidding started to slow and get heated, I saw something that made me do a double take. Standing behind Sean and Johnny was a familiar face: James Stanley—the golf pro and son of Gerald, the chairman of the golf and country club.

What the hell was he doing here?

He was talking with the two morons Sean and Johnny like he knew them. He wore a big smile as the bidding went over four million.

And then it all fell into place.

James… Jim.

“My god,” I said to Cole and Cordi, “I know who the killer is. We’ve got to go.”

“Not yet,” Cole said. “We stick to the plan. In fact, this is the right time.”

“Wait, Cole, no, give me time. I can…”

“Sorry, babe, this was all planned.” He then kissed me hard, and I nearly melted out of my chair as his lips found mine. His hot tongue probed gently, sending tingles of electricity throughout every nerve in my body.

He broke away, both of us panting. “Ready?”

I couldn’t speak or breathe or remember how any normal human function worked.

Cole gave me a wink. He fiddled with something in his pocket, and I didn’t think it was his junk. I heard a quiet click, and his eyes moved past me to the door, indicating I ought to move.

Before the auctioneer could continue his commentary on the bidding, an explosion from the far left of the warehouse roared out. Everyone in the room jumped out of their seats and turned to face the source of the noise.

Sean, Johnny, and James flew to the ground in a heap.

The armed guards by the door rushed in, their weapons drawn.

Further, smaller explosions, sounding like gunfire, erupted, echoing around the warehouse’s tall ceiling and wide expanse.

“Go, go, go,” Cole said in my ear as he dragged Cordi to the ground.

Each gangster in the room, including Ivanov, had hit the deck and withdrew their guns, aiming toward the billowing smoke in the corner of the warehouse.

Whatever Cole had managed to do, it had worked. I sprinted away from the crowd and headed for the door, my head all over the place and adrenaline pumping around my body, making me feel superhuman and scared out of my wits.

I sneaked a look behind me before I opened the door. No one was paying any attention. People were shouting at each other, accusing someone of firing a weapon.

Cole and I shared a quick glance as I snuck inside and closed the door.

My legs were still wobbly after that kiss and the shock of the situation, but I managed to follow his directions and find the transaction room.

It was a small dingy place with a desk and a few chairs around it. A cash-counting machine sat on top of the desk. A single bulb, hanging from the ceiling, lit the centre with a pool of yellow light. Shadows clung to the corners.

I found a place to hide behind a stack of boxes in the darkest corner and waited.

While I waited, my heart continued to pound against my chest. A few minutes later the auction must have finally come to an end.

The door opened.

Excited voices filled the room.

CHAPTER 22

From my position behind the boxes I could just about see a dozen or so people enter the room. The auctioneer, flanked by two huge beasts, stood behind the desk. Kaley was chewing gum in the opposite corner, looking bored out of her mind.

“First up,” the auctioneer said, referring to a ticket, “Mr. Ivanov, we’ll settle all your auctions in one. Your total comes to six point one million in total.”

The gangster nodded, not saying a word. One of his goons placed two Samsonite cases on the desk.

My breathing seemed too loud as the case was opened and the room fell into a hush.

The auctioneer grinned and started placing the money into the electronic cash counter, the notes flicking through the machine as the numbers went up and up.

A cramp began to set in as I contorted to stay as small as possible in the shadows.

The counting and payment seemed to never end. I had to wait until the gangsters had paid their cash and left it behind with the auctioneer and his bodyguards; then presumably Cole would do something, and I would pop out to snag the cash.

Cole was light on the details, not wanting to jinx the operation. I think he did it like that so I had to trust him. He was a strange dude like that.

Still, you don’t survive as long in the circles Cole moves in without being a professional. Even so, I wished I could be anywhere but here right now—in bed, perhaps, with Cole. Maybe on a beach somewhere warm.

Or at the killer’s house.

While I waited for the last of the payments to go through, which, of course, was Cole, I thought about the case and the killer and the necklace. I should have seen it right from the start. It all made sense now—even Winkle’s death.

They were all connected to one person.

“Right,” Cole said, raising his voice a little. “I guess that’s us all done. I got a lift here, so I’ll drive the SLK away. I’m assuming you guys were generous enough to fill it up?”

“What do we look like, a rental company?” the auctioneer said, putting the last of the cash into a bag. I wondered where Cole got that kind of money from and whether it was fake. “You’ll get your own fuel. Here’s the keys, enjoy your ride, and try not to get arrested, it’d be a shame to spend so much on a motor for it to get impounded.”

“I’ll do my best,” Cole said.

I saw him look around the room. He coughed once, which was the sign that the heist was about to go down. I didn’t know what to do next. Cordi was there, behind Cole, looking nervous.

Then I heard it.

Sirens.

All around, from every angle, police sirens blared out.

“Shit, the cops,” Cole said, snatching the keys from the auctioneer.

“Screw it,” the other man said. “You two, go see what the deal is. I’m getting the hell out of here.”

The two goons pushed past Cole and Cordi.

“And, Kaley, you can get lost too. You’re done here; just remember to keep your mouth shut.”

She just nodded with a laconic ‘out there’ look and trudged out of the room, the sirens getting briefly louder before the door shut behind her.