The Courbet Connection (Book 5) (Genevieve Lenard) (17 page)

On the right-hand side, the bids were increasing. I stared at the different items being auctioned. Why would this young man be sold for different things? There were six main items, three of which were reaching very high prices. I looked at the left-hand side of the screen and immediately made the connection. I got up and stood in front of the screen to point out my observations.

“Look at these letters and numbers.” I pointed at the left-hand side of the screen. “It lists Ca, Pn, Ne1, Ne2, He and eight other items. I don’t know what they are yet, but look at the bids. The six items that have the most bids are Ca, Pn, Ne1, Ne2 and He.”

“Maybe they’re sexual fetishes,” Vinnie said. “Maybe it’s code for some BDSM something.”

“How little you know, Vin.” One corner of Francine’s mouth lifted in a half-smirk. “Those services can be bought for much cheaper than what these guys are bidding.”

Manny turned slowly to Francine, his eyes narrow. “You sound very sure about this, supermodel.”

“Oh, handsome.” Her voice was husky and soft. I’d only heard her use this tone with Manny. “Wouldn’t you just love to know what I know about this?”

“Not really.” His gruff answer belied his micro-expressions.

“He wants to know,” I said. “But it’s not important now. We need to find out what these letters represent. See this?” I pointed at the listing of letters on the left-hand side. “I think these numbers describe the letters. If I can decode this, we’ll know what they are auctioning and also the details of each item.”

“Do that, Doc. We need that info as soon as possible.” Manny rubbed the back of his neck as if trying to relax a knot. “There is nothing in that bloody room to tell us where this kid is. If he’s still alive.”

“Assuming he was auctioned on the day Dukwicz recorded this video, it means that he was kidnapped ten days before and kept in good health for four days.” Colin frowned. “Usually kidnappers don’t take good care of their hostages.”

Eighteen months ago, Colin had been abducted and brutally tortured for six days. It had taken him months to recover physically and mentally from that experience. I didn’t know if I’d recovered from my kidnapping a year ago. It had been a traumatic event.

“Oh, oh, oh!” Francine bounced in her chair. “I found another auction for the same kid. Look.”

Another video filled the screen. Matthieu Jean was standing in the same room. There was a significant difference in his body language. He seemed much more aware, his arms tightly wound around his torso in a full self-hug. He exhibited all the nonverbal cues of fear I’d mentioned before. “He’s no longer
under the influence of the drug they gave him. This must be a few hours after the last auction or before it.”

“What are they auctioning now?” Francine’s top lip lifted, her tone adding to her disgust.

“Not the same as the previous auction.” I pointed at the left-hand side of the screen again. “Some of these numbers are the same as the previous descriptions, but it’s only for one item.”

The single item being bid on confirmed my observation.

“None of this makes sense.” Manny turned to me. “Doc, you have to do your Mozart thingie and figure these codes out. That should help us find him. Supermodel, send those videos to me so I can email them to our human trafficking unit. They need to know about this.”

“Why would people sell other people?” Francine asked softly. “Look at him. He’s so young. Even if he finds a way to escape or if we find him, this will affect him for the rest of his life, possibly completely screwing him up.”

“In Europe alone there are an estimated twenty-three thousand victims of human trafficking and it’s getting worse.” I’d been doing some more reading on this topic. It was a most disquieting subject. “Officials say that the real figure is higher, up in the hundreds of thousands of victims. Sixty-two percent of the victims are trafficked for sexual exploitation, ninety-six percent of whom are female. Twenty-five percent are forced into labour in different industries.”

“It’s disgusting,” Francine said.

“It’s worse than that. In India you can buy a baby for forty-five dollars, but a buffalo will cost you three hundred and fifty dollars.”

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Vinnie forcefully cleared his throat.

“No.” I had found myself reaching for Mozart when I’d read those statistics. “In Mozambique, you can buy a girl for two dollars, in Malaysia you can buy a wife for around six thousand dollars. A Roma child bride can be sold for as much as two hundred and seventy thousand dollars.”

“Please stop.” Francine had tears in her eyes. “I can’t listen to any more of this.”

“You’re going to have to suck it up, supermodel.” Manny’s tone was gentle. “This kid needs our help. It doesn’t matter if he’s still alive or not. We have to figure out how he was lured into this auction.”

“Drugs?” Vinnie asked.

“Possibly,” Manny said. “There was a survey done nine months ago across the EU states to determine the effect of drug use on students and its direct relationship to their social lives and employment prospects. I might go dig out those stats.”

We continued watching the auction. It didn’t take long for the bidding to be closed.

“This sickens me.” Vinnie got up. “I need to go punch something.”

I watched him leave, worried about him. “Is he going to be okay?”

“He’ll most likely go work out with GIPN again,” Colin said. “Climbing walls, shooting stuff up and running around empty warehouses, pretending to save people seems to agree with Vin.”

“He’s betraying us.” Francine’s smile contradicted her words. “I seriously can’t believe how much time he’s spending with Daniel.”

At first I had also been surprised that Vinnie had accepted the invitation from the emergency response unit’s leader. Daniel had challenged Vinnie to train with the team. After the first training session, Vinnie had come home tired and dirty, but exhilarated. The other team members had immediately ignored Vinnie’s criminal history and had accepted him into their unique dynamic. I found it fascinating that so much of their continuous training was violent in nature, yet they were rehearsing for a peaceful, non-lethal outcome. I hoped it would help him calm down.

“Let the criminal go to his cop buddies. Maybe they’ll have a good influence on him.” Manny got up. “Doc, you need to figure out how we’re going to reply to Dukwicz. We need to set a very smart trap for him. Frey, help her with that. Supermodel, get everything you can from Dukwicz’s computer and email me a report. In English. Normal English. With words that I understand.”

Francine winked at him. “Can I use words with more than two syllables?”

“No.” His micro-smile was so brief it would have been easy to miss. “I’m going to speak to my contacts at Interpol about Matthieu’s kidnapping and these videos. Maybe they know something that they haven’t shared publicly. Phone me if you find anything important.”

Manny left, ignoring Francine calling after him that she would phone him when she found the designer shoes she’d been looking for. I shook my head. Sometimes it seemed as if Francine didn’t have any internal censorship. Without another word, I went into my viewing room. Bits of information were floating around my mind, seeking connections. Were all the events of the last four days connected? How did Caelan fit into this?

“Are you seriously asking?” The surprise in Colin’s voice made me look up. He was sitting next to me, his eyebrows raised and his lips slightly parted. I hadn’t noticed him following me into my room. Nor had I intended to vocalise my questions.

“Yes. I find this too coincidental. Three days ago, Caelan comes to our office with information about forged masterpieces being sold on a secret internet. That conveniently leads us to Dukwicz.”

“There’s nothing convenient about this, Jenny. You were the one who came up with the idea of luring Dukwicz—”

“Caelan is highly intelligent. He could’ve come with the ruse of these artworks, hoping that we’d see the services…” I stopped in horror and bit down on the insides of my lips. I was speculating. I hated when Manny or Francine speculated. “I need to think before I say anything else. I need to organise my thoughts. I’m not going to be like Francine and verbalise without censoring about some ridiculous conspiracy theory.”

“Hey! I heard that!” When the glass door wasn’t closed, Francine and anyone else in the team room could hear what was being said in my room. I heard footsteps and then she stood in the door, her hands on her hips. “I’ll have you know that I don’t verbalise without censoring about some ridiculous conspiracy theory. My theories are never ridiculous.”

“Identity chips in pets are being used by the government to spy on and track citizens?” I failed to keep the scorn from my face and voice. “You don’t think that is ridiculous?”

“Not if it’s true.” Her blinking rate increased. It happened every time she wasn’t able to justify an outrageous statement.

I rolled my eyes and was immediately annoyed at myself. Not until Francine’s and later Nikki’s appearance in my life had I resorted to such juvenile gestures. I turned my attention to Colin. “Do you think there is a connection between Maurice Dupin, the Courbet paintings and Caelan?”

Colin thought about this. “I don’t know. Caelan is a difficult person to get a read from. Do you find it easy to read him?”

“No. I would have to spend much more time with him to identify his different cues. I’m working on generalisations when I say that autistic people don’t lie. Most people with ASD don’t see the need to tell an untruth, which makes us terrible liars and unsuccessful manipulators. That does not mean someone on the spectrum does not lie or does not manipulate. Caelan is intelligent enough to do both.”

“But you don’t think he’s lying or manipulating.”

“I didn’t say that.”

“You’re thinking it.”

“You don’t know what I’m thinking.” I crossed my arms. “What a preposterous presumption to make.”

“Okay, so you don’t think Caelan is behind this and you don’t think Dukwicz is behind this.”

Francine interrupted Colin with a snort. “Oh, I know Dukwicz isn’t behind this. His computer has such pedestrian security, it’s actually laughable.”

“How does his security give you absolute knowledge?” I asked.

“This might not be factual, girlfriend, but I’m thinking logically here. Someone who uses Tor and sells his services on SSS is someone who wants to stay under the radar. Um… undetected. That person would be paranoid about his internet footprint, his computer security. He would never store anything incriminating on a computer that can be hacked.” She lifted one hand and started counting with her manicured fingers. “Firstly, he saved those videos on his computer. Stupid mistake. Secondly, it was disgustingly easy to hack his computer. I had expected at least some firewalls or something. There was only the basic security a shop computer comes equipped with. Nothing more. Thirdly, Vinnie said earlier Dukwicz is not good at strategy. And fourthly, he’s an ass.”

I sighed. “Discounting your last point, your logic is sound. What else did you find on his computer?”

“Nothing yet. I… um…”

“Joined in our conversation because you couldn’t help yourself?” Colin chuckled. “You better get back at it before Millard has a cow.”

“Manny can’t have a cow. What a strange thing to say. He doesn’t own land big enough to keep one.”

Colin laughed and kissed me on my cheek. “It’s an expression, love.”

“Oh.” I didn’t want to waste time trying to understand yet another expression that made no sense, so I opened a new window on my computer.

“What are we looking for?” Colin shifted his chair to face the monitors. “The letters and numbers?”

“No.” I opened the Interpol site. Those letters and numbers had an obvious meaning. I could feel the connection hovering in the back of my head. From experience I knew that if I forced myself to find that link, it would not be forthcoming. I either had to spend an undefined amount of time allowing Mozart to soothe my mind, or I had to research an unrelated topic. “I’m going to look for more abduction cases.”

“And you’re still using Francine’s anonymous shield. Why?”

I bit down hard and pressed my lips together.

“Jenny?” He cupped my cheek and gently turned my face until I looked at him. “What’s up?”

“I’m concerned about this investigation into Edward Taylor.” The words tumbled out before I could stop them. “In case someone in Interpol suspects you or might be able to make the connection between you and Edward Taylor, I would rather do all my research in such a way that nothing connects.”

“You think the investigation into Edward Taylor has something to do with the kidnappings?”

“No. I don’t know what to think. All these things happening in the last four days? I don’t want to take the chance they are connected…”

“And put my life in danger,” he finished softly. He leaned forward until our noses touched. “I love you too.”

“You need to find Maurice Dupin. And you need to find Michael is well. Nikki still hasn’t heard from him.”

Colin leaned back. I loved him for many reasons. One of those was that he never expected an emotional declaration from me. But at this moment, I loved him even more for not exhibiting any cues of hurt when I immediately reverted back to work. “Shit, Jenny. Do you think he’s really been kidnapped? That Nikki was right?”