The Courbet Connection (Book 5) (Genevieve Lenard) (20 page)

“Zana twenty-two Dactor thirty-one seventy-eight! Doctor Lenard! Another painting. The average snowflake is made up of a hundred and eighty billion molecules of water!”

My approach wasn’t working. I hated the feeling of helplessness that filled my mind.

“What the hell is going on here?” Manny walked in, but kept his tone and movements unconfrontational.

“Caelan is upset about something,” Francine said unnecessarily.

“Do something, Doc.” Manny had to raise his voice to be heard above Caelan’s screaming. “My eardrums are going to burst.”

“Eardrums! Zana twenty-two Dactor thirty-one seventy-eight! Eardrums!”

“Caelan.” I spoke a bit louder, my tone no longer gentle. “I’m not going to listen to you if you keep screaming. I have a question for you, but will not ask until you are calm.”

For two minutes he continued to recite random geographical facts and odd phrases, gradually lowering his voice until it was a monotone mutter. He was still bouncing off the wall, but with much less vigour, clearly making an effort to gain control. “Doctor Lenard. Doctor Lenard.”

“Yes, Caelan?”

“Zana twenty-two Dactor thirty-one seventy-eight.”

“Yes, I know. Where did you see that?”

“What the hell are they talking about?” Manny asked softly behind me.

“I don’t know,” Francine whispered back.

“Caelan and I can both hear you.” Neurotypical people could be so ridiculous in their behaviour sometimes. “Caelan, do you want to tell them or should I?”

“Doctor Lenard. Doctor Lenard.”

“I’ll tell them what I know, but then you must calm down sufficiently to tell me where you saw that. Agreed?”

“Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes.” He bounced softly against the wall with each chanted word.

I turned around to face Manny and Francine. He was leaning against her desk, his arms folded. Francine mirrored his body language, arms also folded and her head tilted at the same angle. Nikki had made herself comfortable on the floor next to Francine’s desk. Her sketchpad was open and she was drawing, her tongue protruding from between her lips. Something had inspired her.

“Francine, can you bring up the auction video?” I asked. “I want to show you the bids.”

She gave a quick nod, her fingers already tapping and swiping on her tablet’s touch screen. A few seconds later the
video filled the screen. I cleared my throat. It was hard to look at the right-hand side of the screen, knowing each of those coded headings represented one of Matthieu’s organs. I pointed to the very bottom right corner of the screen.

“Can you zoom in on that?”

She did and the tiny lettering revealed itself.

“Z22D3178. Not quite the full thingie the kid is shouting at us, but close enough. What does this mean, Doc?”

“I don’t know.” I looked at Francine. “Do you know?”

Her smile lifted her cheeks. “I can speculate.”

“No, thanks, supermodel. Rather tell me why that would be at the bottom of a website.”

“It’s an ID?” She zoomed out. “I can’t see it anywhere else on this page.”

For a few seconds we watched in silence as the bids rose for each organ. I’d gone through this before, but it still deeply disturbed me. Using the simplistic code used everywhere else, I tried it on our new discovery. “It is not coded. Unlike the organs and descriptions, Zana22Dactor3178 doesn’t translate into anything that makes sense.”

“Can you decode the bids and tell us how much they paid for the organs?” Manny asked.

I’d already done that when I’d gone over the footage. “The one bidder paid two hundred and fifty thousand dollars for a kidney.”

“Holy bloody hell!”

“Doctor Lenard. Doctor Lenard.” Caelan started bouncing again at Manny’s outburst.

“Sorry, lad.” Manny pressed his fists against his eyes. “Now I have to watch what I say.”

“Two hundred and fifty thousand dollars?” Francine’s eyes were wide, her mouth slack. “That… that’s just wrong.”

“Kidneys? What kidneys?” Caelan asked. He took a few deep breaths and walked around the table, appearing more in control of his movements. He noticed Nikki, stopped and pointed at her. “Who’s she?”

Nikki got up, her eyes narrowing on Caelan. She took in his attire and I noticed the compassion on her face. “I’m Nikki.”

“My name is Caelan. I’m helping Doctor Lenard and her team.” Caelan talked to Nikki’s shoulder, pushing out his chest.

She glanced at her shoulder, a slight frown forming between her eyebrows when she looked back and Caelan was still staring at her shoulder. “Hi, Caelan.”

“You must be my girlfriend. I need a girlfriend. Francine said she’ll help me find one, but you’re pretty enough. You are my girlfriend.”

Vinnie’s muscle tension increased and Manny’s top lip curled, but Nikki burst out laughing. She looked at me, her eyes shiny. “He’s cute. Can we keep him?”

“No.” My answer might have been too sharp, judging by the way Nikki flinched. I swallowed the horrifying thought of Caelan moving into my apartment and tried to smile. It didn’t work. “You cannot keep people. They’re not an object or a pet that you have ownership over.”

“Like selling people at an auction?” Nikki nodded at the screen.

“First kidneys, now people.” Caelan sighed loudly. “Aren’t you listening to me? I’m talking about art. Not kidneys. Not people. Art.”

“Is that where you saw this handle?” I asked. “Did you see Zana22Dactor3178 sell a painting online?”

“Yes. I don’t think this was a forgery. Colin needs to look at it. Where is he? Colin would know best. He needs to be here.”

“He’s looking for—”

“—a friend who can help us find these artworks.” Francine jumped out of her chair, staring intently at me. She was trying to communicate her reason for interrupting me by tilting her head and moving one eyebrow. It took me only a moment to analyse the direction her head was pointed to. Nikki. Francine didn’t want me to say that Colin had renewed his search for Michael. We still didn’t have confirmation that he was missing, but Colin and Francine had insisted their guts were telling them something was wrong. I didn’t feel comfortable lying to Nikki even if it was to protect her from worrying.

Nikki stepped closer to my side. The micro-expressions flashing across her face revealed she was reaching conclusions and finding them most disturbing. “I know you don’t want me to know what you guys are dealing with every day, but I saw what you were researching. Who is this?” She pointed at the screen.

“Matthieu Jean.”

“The student I told you about? The guy from Paris?” She took another step closer to me, our arms touching. I hated the distress I was seeing on her face. Whenever she was unhappy, she needed more physical contact than usual. I didn’t move, not even when she leaned against me. “It’s him, isn’t it?”

“Yes.” It was hard discerning how much to tell her.

“They were auctioning his organs?” Her voice rose, her face losing colour. “Oh, God. That’s horrible. And you found all those other students. How many? Who would do this? Why would anyone do this?”

“Nikki.” The soft tone communicated Manny’s compassion and a warning.

She straightened her shoulders, but didn’t move away from me. “I know you only allow me to hang around because I never say anything or ask anything, but this is horrible. What if this happens to me? Oh, my God! Is this why Vinnie forcibly brought me here? Am I in danger?”

“What do you mean forcibly?” Manny stood up. “What the hell did that criminal do?”

“Hell. Hell. Hell. Hell.” Caelan retreated to the door, bouncing gently against the doorframe and muttering.

Manny pressed the heels of his palms against his eyes again and groaned. “Doc, deal with this before I…”

I waited for him to finish his sentence, but he didn’t. He dropped his hands, resumed leaning against Francine’s desk and glared at Nikki. I sighed. “Vinnie wanted Nikki to come here, because Dukwicz is in the city. She argued with him and he—”

“Threw me over his shoulder and carried me to the car.” She grinned when she used the illogical expression. “He didn’t hurt me. You know he wouldn’t hurt me.”

“He bloody better not.”

“Bloody. Bloody. Bloody.” Caelan was only whispering, but appeared to be affected by everything Manny was saying.

“Doc.” Manny threw one hand out towards Caelan. “Please.”

I didn’t know what he expected me to do and wished for Phillip’s calming presence. “Caelan, would you mind sitting at the table? We could use your help.”

“You need my help. You are not finding the art.”

“What art?” Colin asked from behind Caelan. He was standing in the doorway, his expression grim. He still hadn’t located Maurice Dupin or Michael.

Caelan turned, the tension in his body slightly relaxing. “You’re here. You must find the art.”

“At the table.” I pointed to the chair closest to Caelan, my tone uncompromising. “Now. Sit down and tell us what you know.”

Caelan sat down meekly. The cough coming from Manny sounded more like a laugh, but it was the shock on Colin’s face that had me wondering if I was handling this incorrectly. He walked in, kissed me on my cheek and leaned in close to my ear. “Impressive.”

I found this situation hard to deal with, tempted to give in to the urge to rush back to my room and seal the door. “Caelan, would you be willing to work with Francine?”

“She must teach me how to get a girlfriend.”

“After you help us, kiddo.” Francine tapped her nails on her desk. “If you control yourself and don’t share anymore geographical facts, you and I might make a formidable team. We can see if we can find Zana22Dactor3178. Maybe put a virus in his computer so we can snoop around.”

“I don’t need to know any of this.” Manny got up and walked to my viewing room. “Supermodel and the kid can work in here. Doc, we need to talk.”

Without waiting for agreement from anyone, Manny walked into my room. Francine looked at Caelan, her expression cautious, but not unwelcoming.

“Will you be okay here?” Colin asked.

“Me?” Francine placed her hand over her sternum. “Of course I’ll be okay. I have a smart kid who’s going to help me sneak around the internet.”

Caelan stared at her shoulder. “What about Colin? What about the art?”

“I’ll look at that soon. First, I have to talk to Je… Doctor Lenard while you’re helping Francine, okay?”

“But you will look at the art?”

“Yes, I will.”

“When?”

“Later, kiddo.” Francine waved him over. “Bring that chair and come sit next to me. When Colin is ready to look at the art,
he will. Let’s try and give them Zana22Dactor3178 before that happens.”

“When?” The stubborn lift of his jaw indicated no willingness to relent.

“It will be no longer than an hour.” It was more than enough time to give Manny and Colin a report on my findings.

Caelan responded by picking up his chair and sitting next to Francine. I looked at them for a few seconds before going to my team room. Colin followed me and soon we were seated in front of the ten monitors. Nikki sat down on the floor between the filing cabinets, her eyes wide and her sketchpad forgotten.

It was most unconventional for her to have any knowledge of our investigations, but it had become the norm. Nikki’s criminal father had had her sitting in on his meetings from a very young age. She’d learned about discretion and the dangers of accidentally mentioning something from a man who had evaded capture for decades.

Ideally, she should have had a childhood free of that responsibility, but she hadn’t. As a new adult, she was mature beyond her years and had proven herself to be trustworthy and wise. Since the victims we were looking at were all her age, she might be able to give us valuable input. That was the only reason I didn’t mind her taking her usual place in my viewing room.

“What have you got for us, Doc?”

“I looked for more students. The profile was the same as before: young people aged eighteen to twenty-three, not living at home, without any family or not close to their family at all, socially inactive or maladjusted. I went as far back as six months.”

“Why six months?” Manny asked.

“That is how long SSS has been in operation. I’m working on an assumption that whomever is behind the auctions has
only been doing it on SSS. I first looked in France and found ten students. The first three were all young men.” I pointed at the top left monitor. “Christopher Leesa was reported missing by his university six months ago when he missed a payment. He is a first-year British student with dual citizenship, studying computer engineering in Lille. His only relative was his grandmother who died a year ago.”

I pointed to the next monitor. “Jean Haden was reported missing by his landlord in Marseille when he didn’t pay his rent nine months ago and couldn’t be contacted. He’s an orphan, his studies paid by a government grant. Stacey Bouzane from Paris was reported missing by her next-door neighbour. Stacey had the neighbour’s computer in her flat and was supposed to fix it for her. When she didn’t return it, the neighbour was at first angry, but later concerned.