Gauguin Connection, The (20 page)

“I’ve been able to avoid him for the best part of this week, but he’s ordered me in for a full report on Friday.”

“What are you going to tell him?” Leon asked.

In classic blocking behaviour, Manny closed his eyes in order to distance himself from the unpleasantness awaiting him. On a sigh, he opened his eyes, stress lines visible all over his face. “I don’t know.”

“Has anyone else shown an interest in this case?” Leon looked intently at Manny.

“No. Why?”

“Well, I’ve had a few unpleasant conversations with Brigadier-General Nick Crenshaw about the missing weapons. Apart from the Commanding General, he’s the only one who knows the true extent of the loss of
our weapons. It’s been kept under strict confidentiality. Since Brigadier-General Crenshaw was in charge of the weapons, he’s been excluded from the investigation. Merely asking about it is breaking protocol.”

“Do you think he’s involved?”

“A month ago, I would never have suspected him, but now I don’t know. I’m suspecting just about everyone.”

“I know the feeling.” Manny sounded tired. “Apart from the Head, I don’t trust anyone. Hell, sometimes I don’t even know if I should trust the Head.”

I decided to visit Eurocorps’ website again to familiarise myself with this Brigadier-General Crenshaw. By now I had formed a good baseline to read Leon and could clearly see his discomfort at having to suspect everyone.

“I have the Head asking for discretion,” Manny continued, “but it is Chief Dutoit who’s been chewing my ass for the lack of progress. Not that we haven’t made any progress. I’ve just not informed him about it. I don’t know if I should. And this is not making it any easier.” He tossed the photo of Danielle’s boyfriend on the table as if it were a live snake.

Leon leaned in. “What’s this? Who’s this?”

“This is Piotr
Chulkov, the murdered girl’s boyfriend.” Apparently Manny hadn’t wasted any time identifying Danielle’s boyfriend.

“
Chulkov.” I scanned my memory of all the discoveries in the case for the appearance of that surname. “I’ve heard that name before.”

“He’s the brother of the thug who killed Danielle,” Manny answered just as I remembered who also had that surname.

“Nikolay Chulkov killed his brother Piotr’s girlfriend and then himself?” I was aghast. “Why?”

“That is the million-dollar question,” Manny said as if to himself. “Piotr’s name did, however, set off a few red lights. That is why it was so easy to ID him. Piotr has been on several international law enforcement agencies’ radars.”

“For what?” Phillip sat up in his chair, looking very concerned.

“Every crime you can imagine. It is his connection to a private Russian army that caught my attention though.”

“Private Russian army?” Phillip sounded like a parrot, repeating everything Manny revealed. I was riveted. I hadn’t thought it possible for this case to have become more complex and thus more interesting, but it just had.

“Communism had barely ended when numerous secret military organisations popped up everywhere. Most dissolved within the first year. They were mostly started by discontented communists with strong military influence, hoping to maintain the strength of communism.” Manny’s top lip lifted as if he smelled something bad. “Unfortunately there were quite a few very rich people who managed to form their own personal armies.”

“To what end?” Why would anyone want their own army? I might need one to keep the influx of criminals from my front door. And windows.

“To protect their illegal activities.” Manny’s strong dislike for everything Russian was evident in his harsh tone. “The arms dealers, drug dealers, mafia bosses and human traffickers all have their own protection. Some are amateurish, but most are former military, trained and skilled.”

Immediately I thought of the four men in my apartment. Only two of them had been Russian though. Could there be a connection? It was just too much of a coincidence that the men who attacked me had been scared of Red when the Russian murderer promised, ‘Red will end all twenty-seven.’ And what was the significance of the ‘twenty-seven daffodils’?

“What is it, Genevieve?” As usual Phillip saw that my mind was working on something.

“I was thinking about the men who attacked me.” I wasn’t yet ready to share my theories on Piros.

“Men attacked her?” Leon’s outraged question was aimed at Manny. “Is that where the bruises came from?”

I thought that I had hidden them well with my makeup, but the way they were now staring at my face proved my skills were not quite up to par.

“Yes, she was attacked in her apartment. And she hasn’t told me everything.”

“I’ve told you all the important parts.” I was sure he would disagree with me if he were ever to find out about Colin and Vinnie. “I also told you about the insignia on two of the men’s uniforms.”

“They wore uniforms?” This was the first time since Leon entered the room that he seemed less than composed.

“You’d better tell him the whole story.” Manny emphasised the two last words, but I ignored it. I told Leon about the attack, aware of Manny’s scrutiny. He was no doubt hoping to catch me in a lie or inconsistency. Since my memory was faultless, I told Leon exactly what I had told Manny. Including the part about the insignias.

“Do any of these private armies have logos or insignias?” I asked.

“Some of them view themselves as legitimate armies and therefore have everything an army would have.”

“Including insignias.”

“Including insignias. Can you remember what it looked like?” Leon asked.

“If I was any good at drawing, I would’ve drawn it for you.” This was not a skill I had managed to excel in. “But if you show me pictures of insignias, I’ll be able to point out the one without any doubt.”

“I’ll email you the gallery that we have.” Leon looked at Manny. “She’s still using the EDA computer, right?”

“Yes, and it’s totally secure.” Manny would surely contemplate throwing me in prison if he knew that Colin had seen and worked on the EDA computer.

“Leon, you said these armies have everything a legitimate army would have. Would that include weapons?” I had all three men’s undivided attention. Manny and Leon shared a look heavy with concern.

“Genevieve.” Defeat weighed heavily on Leon’s voice. “I pray to God that you are not suggesting what I think you are suggesting.”

“I’m suggesting that your stolen weapons might have gone to one of these Russian pseudo-armies. There are too many connections now to not consider it a possibility. I don’t know if Manny told you, but there are five unsolved murders in the last five years in Europe with SIG 226 nine-millimetre pistols.”

“That’s nothing strange. SIG 226’s are very common weapons.”

“In my search, I’ve discovered that there might be thirteen suspicious deaths of artists.”

“I told Manny about this on Monday.” Phillip turned to Manny. “Have you found any ballistic evidence?”

Leon leaned forward with a sigh. “I’ve requested the ballistic reports from the five cases you gave Manny and we’re currently looking into all open cases in the EU where the calibre weapons from our list of stolen weapons were used. Unfortunately, I can’t give you any indication how long it might take before we get results.”

“What complicates this process even more is the SIG’s popularity,” Manny said. He exhibited no enthusiasm for this line of investigation.

“Do you at least agree that it is strange that all five murder victims were artists?”

I saw the moment all the separate incidences started connecting in Leon’s mind. His pupils constricted in high focus and his jaw muscles tightened. A negative conclusion must have been reached in his head. He closed his eyes for a moment, blocking out those thoughts. “This is a nightmare. An abhorrent nightmare.”

“Please bear in mind that even though too many things connect to be coincidence, we still don’t have solid physical proof.” I needed to find irrefutable paper trails to support all this. “That is why the financials for the Foundation and any information on Kubanov would be a good start to prove any connection.”

“I’ll get on that ASAP.” Manny sighed.

A subtle change in Leon’s body language drew my attention. His torso shifted ever so slightly to the door and I was sure that had I looked under the table, his feet would have been pointing in that direction as well.

“You have to go,” I stated.

“Unfortunately, you’re right. I do have to go.” Leon got up. We all promised to stay in touch. Not a minute later I was alone with Manny and Phillip.

“There’s more about Piotr
Chulkov.” Manny took a sheet of paper out of a thick folder in front of him and laid it on the table. It was an organigram. With a lot of empty spaces.

“What’s this?” Phillip asked the obvious question.

“The RNT, the Russian Ninja Turtles.” Manny held up his hand when I inhaled to question such a ridiculous name. “This is the name that Interpol gave this group when they first started their activities.”

“What activities?”

“Patience, Doc. Give me time to inhale while I talk.”

I pressed my lips together and nodded.

“Their name comes from the stealth with which they move, their black outfits and the characteristic flat, rounded backpacks they carry when they’re on a mission.”

“The Spaniard who attacked me had a backpack like the one you’re describing.”

Both men stared at me, but it was Manny who spoke with genuine worry in his voice. “These guys are cold-blooded, Genevieve. They are not to be trifled with. They operate all over the globe. They’ve eliminated well-protected individuals. There have also been sightings of them during riots, suggesting that they were the instigators. They are mostly known for their violent solutions to a person posing a problem, be it political, corporate or personal.”

“And Piotr
Chulkov is involved with the Russian Ninja Turtles?” I could barely say this silly name given to a group of mercenaries.

Manny pointed to a box in the middle of the organisational chart. “It’s been guessed that this is where he fits in this organisation. He is thought of as a recruiter. Apparently, he is quite good at charming people into joining with them or working for them.”

“Who are they?” I asked.

“Five years ago a man went to Interpol and claimed that he had been part of the RNT.” Manny opened the folder and took out a photo. A Caucasian man was sitting in a hotel room and he looked like he had been in a terrible car accident.

“What happened to him?”

“The RNT,” Manny said. “According to him, nobody had ever left the RNT alive before. He was beaten to an inch of his life. And then he was shot. Five times. Nobody knows how he survived, but Interpol was very happy he did. Most of what we know about the RNT, we learned from him. He was terrified of what the RNT would do to him and his family if they discovered that he was still alive. His name isn’t even recorded on this report. After he was debriefed to exhaustion, Interpol gave him a new identity and sent him to another country. They have not been able to find him for two years now.”

“He’s dead?” Phillip asked.

“Maybe. Or he decided to take his safety into his own hands and changed identities again to completely disappear.”

“It seems to be so easy to do that.” I was thinking of Colin and his poets. Never would I have thought that becoming another person could be possible and yet it was apparently very easy. I realised my mistake when Phillip frowned at me and Manny looked at me with renewed suspicion. I frantically searched my mind for an escape. “All I mean is that Nikolay had other identities as well.”

“You really are a terrible liar, Doc.”

“What else do you know about the RNT?” Phillip brought us back on topic.

Manny narrowed his eyes at me in warning before he relented. “He told them about the RNT’s training facility, but didn’t know where it was. Apparently, they were all blindfolded before they were taken there by plane, two helicopter rides and finally an eight-hour trip in the back of a darkened truck. He said that by the time he and the other two recruits had arrived at the compound, they were totally disoriented. All he could say was that it was in the northern hemisphere, since it was still autumn when they arrived. Interpol’s guys were able to ascertain from this man’s descriptions that he had been in Hungary.”

“Yet another tie that binds Hungary to this case,” I said. “Where did they find him?”

“They didn’t. He found them. There wasn’t much he was able to remember from his beating. When he came to he was in a hospital in Zagreb. How he got to Croatia, he couldn’t remember. He spent three months in a Catholic hospital before he was released.”

“Why was he beaten up?”

“The RNT did a job somewhere and a lot of innocent people got killed. He said that it was the last straw for him. He mentioned to one of his team members, his best
friend, that he was thinking about getting out. His memory was still intact for the few hours after he had told his mate, but then he said he couldn’t remember much after that. According to him, the loyalty that these guys had towards the RNT bordered on that of a cult. They would do anything to protect the secrecy of this organisation.”