The Courbet Connection (Book 5) (Genevieve Lenard) (26 page)

BOOK: The Courbet Connection (Book 5) (Genevieve Lenard)
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“Hmm. She might be on to something.” Manny thought for a moment and then nodded. “We have to speak to her. Preferably somewhere away from Breton and Hugo.”

Vinnie jumped up. “Let’s go visit her at home. It’s only a four-hour drive to Lyon. We’ll catch her before she goes to bed.”

“You shouldn’t go.” I ignored his frown. “You’ll intimidate her and she’ll respond by withdrawing. We won’t get her co-operation when you go while in this mood.”

“Hey.” Vinnie put his hands on his hips. “I can be charming.”

His frown turned into an offended scowl when numerous snorts and laughs filled the room.

“Doc and I will go.”

Manny was still speaking when Colin moved imperceptibly to put his shoulder in front of mine. An unconscious movement to put himself between me and Manny. “Jenny is not going alone. Not after today.”

“She won’t be alone, Frey. I’ll be with her.”

“And you’re going to protect her with what, your scowl?”

The muscle tension in both men increased. From experience, I knew this had potential to become a lengthy argument. “Do you have a disguise nearby?”

Colin’s eyes widened. “Brilliant idea. I have one in the car. Vin can get it for me. I’ll be ready in less than ten minutes.”

Manny grunted. “This is turning into a circus.”

“You need protection. All of you. Pink has been really good blending in.” Vinnie lifted an eyebrow at Colin. “Dude, do you think we should ask him to go along? I have some things I need to do here.”

I approved. “Pink won’t scare Judith.”

Vinnie’s smile was genuine. “Thanks, Jen-girl.”

“Whatever for?”

“Acknowledging my superpower. You know, the one that makes all people tremble in fear of me.” The twitching around his mouth alerted me to teasing. We didn’t have time for that.

“Can Pink meet us here in ten minutes?”

“He’ll be here.” Vinnie took his smartphone from one of the many pockets in his pants and walked out the team room.

“And I’m coming with.” Colin lowered his brow as he addressed Manny.

Nikki looked at Colin, then at Manny. “Not to be like offensive or anything, but you and Doc aren’t really the best in social skills. Colin is a natural. He’ll know how to get this Judith woman to talk.”

Nikki was only partially correct. Colin’s social skills were indeed natural and more polished than mine and Manny’s. But I’d seen Manny interview suspects. He would appear completely harmless, sometimes even bleary. It made people feel in control around him, often with the result of them revealing more than they’d intended.

I, on the other hand, had no natural social skills. From childhood I’d worked very hard at understanding and later on mimicking social interaction. If needed, I could be socially appropriate, my education aiding me in even being manipulative. But it was a conscious competence, always laborious and tiring.

Manny’s lips pulled into a thin line. “Fine. But I’m taking the lead, Frey.”

“Uh, guys? You won’t have to go to Lyon,” Francine said. “Judith is here in Strasbourg. She came with Breton and Hugo three days ago and seems to still be here. Hold on a sec.”

We stood in silence for almost two minutes. It was much more than ‘a sec’.

“Our girl is living with her aunt. I’ll send the address to your phones. And before you ask, handsome, I activated the GPS on her phone. She’s at her aunt’s house at the moment. If she moves, I’ll phone and let you know.”

“Pink will be here in five minutes.” Vinnie walked into the room, putting his smartphone in another side pocket.

“Oh. Oh, my.” Francine looked like she’d won a prize. “I’m going to put you all on a mini-high with this.”

“Stop pointing at the computer and tell us, supermodel.” Manny put his hands on his hips. “We want to get moving before Jooste goes out clubbing or something.”

“I’m in Dukwicz’s bank account and it’s giving me sexy shivers.” She stopped to shake her shoulders in an exaggerated attempt to prove her point, all the while reading whatever was on her computer monitor. “Scandals, darlings. Delicious scandals. There are a few cash transfers by people who are smart and don’t want to leave an electronic footprint. But then there are these beauties. I’m looking at three transfers that will cause ripples throughout France. I don’t think Dukwicz is selling property, so I’m working on the assumption that all these transfers are for assassinations.”

A delighted smile lifted her cheeks as she worked on her computer. After a few seconds, she sat back with an even wider smile. “One of these transfers is from an account I just traced to one of the richest men in France. Another transfer was direct from the account of Marc Delile’s wife.”

“And he is?” Manny asked after Francine paused and didn’t continue.

“You know, sometimes I think you’re living under a rock, handsome. Marc Delile was a politician notorious for his womanising. Last year some time, he was accused of rape and was about to appear in court when he died from a bee sting. He was majorly allergic to bees. There was speculation how lucky his wife had been that he no longer had to spend hundreds of thousands on the court case, defending himself in what he called a concerted effort by his enemies to bring him down.

“Apparently, he’d already spent a chunk of his savings on all his women, and the rest on his high-flying lawyer. He would’ve had to sell one of their properties if he’d wanted that legal firm to continue representing him in that trial.” Francine sighed happily. “It was such a luscious scandal at the time.”

“So you’re thinking the wife paid Dukwicz to off this politician?” Manny rubbed his hands over his face. “Holy Mary. If you’re right, this is going to ruffle some big feathers.”

“Well, she made a transfer of twenty thousand euro to Dukwicz’s account a few days before her husband died. Then she transferred twenty-five thousand the day after his death. Ooh, this is my birthday, Christmas, Hanukkah and Halloween all wrapped in one.”

“Just keep digging, supermodel. If we’re going to make cases out of these, we’ll have to present real evidence. Not aliens on a stick.”

“You brought me Brigadeiro.” She pressed both hands against her cheeks. “I’ll give you a rock-solid case, handsome.”

Manny stared at her for a few moments, then shook his head tiredly. He turned to Colin. “You have ten minutes to powder your nose, Frey.”

While Colin was putting on his disguise, I used the time to close all the open folders on my computer. In a bit less than nine minutes, a middle-aged man limped into my viewing room. He was wearing a suit a size too large and a shirt that had once been white. The tie had to date from two decades ago. His dark brown eyes were the exact colour as the hair that hadn’t yet turned gray. Again, it was only Colin’s lips that gave away his true identity. I was impressed.

“Do you approve?”

I swallowed and nodded. “I still don’t like this.”

Manny appeared in the doorway. “Come on, you two. Let’s see if we can catch Judith at her aunt’s home.”

“Are you carrying, old man?” Concern pulled Vinnie’s brow in and down. I had no idea what Vinnie was asking, but Manny lifted his shirt to show a leather holster holding a handgun. Vinnie looked at Colin. “Dude?”

“In here.” He nodded towards my cabinets. “I’ll get it now.”

“You have a gun in my room?” My voice raised a pitch. “Why would you have a gun in my room?”

“I hope it’s registered, Frey.”

Colin ignored Manny. He stared at me with one raised eyebrow for a few seconds. “The same reason I have a weapon in our bedroom, Jenny.”

I closed my eyes and mentally wrote three bars of Mozart’s Horn Concerto No.2 in E-flat minor and opened my eyes. Colin was walking into the team room, pulling his oversized jacket over the bulge in his back.

His confidence and the comfort with which he carried the concealed weapon went a long way to ease my mind. I abhorred weapons and everything they represented, but Dukwicz had made his intensions very clear. Manny grunted instructions to Vinnie to keep Nikki occupied and Francine safe before following us to the elevator. I wondered if Judith would be willing to trust us, listen to us, speak to us.

 
Chapter SIXTEEN

 

 

 

We turned into a tree-lined street in the suburbs of Strasbourg. It was one of those areas with spacious homes nestled in large gardens set in quiet streets. Some houses were almost on the street, others were deep into the garden, walls and lush vegetation providing privacy. This very popular suburb for upper-middle-class professionals was near enough to the city centre to ensure a short commute to work while still living in a greener and less built-up area.

Manny had agreed to go in Colin’s SUV. It was a more comfortable vehicle than Manny’s older sedan. And cleaner. Colin was at the steering wheel. Manny was slouching on the backseat, Pink next to him, leaning against the door. Not once in the last twenty minutes had Colin and Manny argued or baited each other. I was looking out at the picturesque street we were driving through. Cesária Évora’s melodic voice was the only sound filling the spacious interior of the car.

We slowed down and I glanced at Colin. I found it rather disconcerting how well he was disguised, how well he acted as a middle-aged man. Manny had merely mumbled about wasting time, but had said nothing about Colin’s new look.

It was easy for me to understand the necessity Colin had for not revealing his identity. It was hard bracing myself not to only accept, but also pretend along with the lie. I’d spent the drive mentally preparing myself not to address Colin at all in case I called him by his name—his real name and not the one of some seventeenth-century poet.

Colin turned the SUV into a neat gravel driveway and drove to the side of the large two-story home. Under three tall shade trees, a Ford Fiesta was parked in front of a brightly coloured sign inviting guests to ‘please park here’. The dark blue Ford’s registration number confirmed that it was Judith’s vehicle. Colin parked next to it and turned off the car.

“Doc, do your face-reader thing while I handle the introductions.”

Colin looked in the rear-view mirror and lifted one eyebrow. “You sure you want to start this by pissing her off? We need her to work with us, Millard.”

“Bugger off, Frey.” Manny got out of the car and slammed the door. Pink also got out, but leaned against the car as if nothing interested him. I knew he was aware of every movement and sound in close proximity.

I took my handbag, got out and took a moment to look around. The garden was lush and beautifully designed. Flat, round stones laid a path through the manicured lawn to the front door. To the left, in front of the house, a cream marquee provided shade for wicker chairs arranged around two low coffee tables. It looked like the perfect place for guests to spend lazy evenings, sipping wine.

As soon as we started walking towards the front door, I saw the difference in Colin’s posture. His shoulders were no longer straight with confidence. He’d hunched over and favoured the side of his limp as he studied the house. I was amazed at how he transformed himself into someone clearly considering this magnificently maintained house and garden as beneath him.

I was about to comment on it when a huge dog ran around the side of the house, straight towards us. It was widely believed that we reacted to danger either with a flight or a fight response. That was wrong. The third response was how I found myself watching the dog running towards me. Frozen in fear.

I had never had a pet. My knowledge of domestic animals was purely academic. As a child, my parents had never allowed such frivolity as pets. As an adult I’d never even considered having an animal in my pristine apartment. The female dog coming towards me was proof why it had been a good decision. Her paws were muddy as was her nose, leading to the conclusion that she’d been digging in the ground. Her long hair was the type that would shed and attach itself to any material it came in contact with. The thought that people lived with animal hair on their clothes, furniture, carpets and, worst of all, bedding induced as much panic as this dog not slowing down.

It was only my expertise in human nonverbal communication that prevented me from completely shutting down in the face of this unknown danger. The dog exhibited no signs of aggression or imminent attack. She stopped a few feet away from us, her muscle tension leading me to the conclusion that if confronted she would run away rather than attack.

“What a gorgeous Saint Bernard.” The moment Manny held out his hand, palm down, the dog’s muscle tension increased and she lifted her lip—not enough to show teeth, but it was enough for me to recognise the warning.

Colin laughed softly. “Go figure. A female who doesn’t like you, Millard. So hard to believe.”

I had not moved from my position and found myself even more frozen when the dog walked to me, not taking her eyes off Manny. She stopped next to me, leaned against my leg and wagged her tail. Dogs carried bacteria like campylobacter, salmonella and numerous others that caused hundreds of thousands of people to yearly contract diseases from toxoplasmosis to hookworm. I couldn’t begin to imagine how many unsavoury bacteria this animal was transferring to my light linen pants. Already I was thinking about throwing these
pants out as soon as I got home and cleansing myself under a hot shower. With disinfectant soap.

BOOK: The Courbet Connection (Book 5) (Genevieve Lenard)
10.26Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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