Gauguin Connection, The (21 page)

“So why didn’t they kill him?” Phillip asked.

“They thought they had. He had five bullets removed from his body. Each one had narrowly missed vital organs. He was told by the hospital that a farmer had found him on the outskirts of the city. He had lost so much blood that no one thought he was going to make it. But that’s not the important part. Lying in the hospital had given him time to think. The betrayal of his best friend and the death of all those innocents were weighing heavily on him. That’s when he decided to contact Interpol.

“According to him, the compound trained private armies mostly for rich and important Russians. These are elite armies and only three armies a year have the chance of a six-week training session. For some, it is a refresher course, for others it is full training. All of the soldiers come from a military or law enforcement background. But the six-week training the RNT received every year was the most brutal of them all. They were in the employ of the people who ran the compound. Their jobs were not to protect somebody. No, they were sent to eliminate a politician’s opposition or to start a revolt in a country that was developing too well.”

“They were being used to manipulate the political arena?” This was amazing. It reminded me of a master chess player thinking seven moves ahead.

“Yes,” Manny answered. “These were countries like Georgia, Armenia,
Moldova.”

“All countries of the old USSR.” I shook my head in disbelief. “Wow.”

“This ex-RNT soldier said after his first job that he regretted ever joining them. I had to read this twice last night before I believed my eyes.” Manny paused. People usually did this for dramatic effect or what they were about to say was of extreme importance. “His first assignment was an assassination. Of an artist. This guy is a sniper, he kills for a living, but killing an innocent artist didn’t sit right with him. Especially not after he had seen the beautiful works that this young girl produced. From his descriptions, she was painting Monets.”

“Most likely a forger, killed after her skill was exploited.” I thought about what Manny had just told us. “Hold on. I deduced that these RNT guys are selected very carefully. How could they not have seen his sentimental side?”

“Aha.” Manny leaned forward. “This is also interesting. Apparently they all had to go through a comprehensive psychological evaluation before they were accepted. The recruiter never told them what their work would be. Only that they would be working in one of the most elite, secret armies of the world. On further questioning, Interpol realised that the psych eval was almost exactly the same as the one they use for their recruits.”

“Almost exactly is an oxymoron,” I said. “Either it is almost or it is exactly.”

“Genevieve,” Phillip said in a low voice.

“You want numbers, Doc? Interpol estimated it to be roughly ninety percent the same as theirs. And the Interpol evaluation was custom-designed.”

“Which means that the trainer had access to Interpol. Who is their trainer?” I asked.

“Interpol is investigating him.” For the first time since he had started telling us about the RNT, Manny was not forthcoming. Before I could give it too much thought, he rambled forth. “Given their history, I would like to know what their true purpose was in your apartment, why they attacked you.”

“What do you mean?” Phillip asked.

“From what this guy told Interpol”—Manny pointed at the folder—“they never warned anyone. They just killed.”

“And you want to know why they didn’t kill me?” My chest tightened. I mentally wrote two bars of Mozart to calm down.

“Yes, and I’ll add some more questions.” Manny rubbed the back of his neck. This pacifying behaviour showed his growing concern and the need to calm himself. “Why is it that so many weapons could disappear over such an extended period of time without raising any alarms? Why
is it that no one has made any connections in almost twenty years? Or that the RNT have not been prosecuted? Leon told me that Eurocorps had in the past looked into them quite a few times, yet no arrests, no incarceration. Why is that?”

“There has to be some connection to higher officials. Someone who could cover up any suspicion reported on RNT activities.” I hated myself for sounding just like Colin. He was going to revel in being right.

“This is sadly the conclusion that I have come to. I suspect that the RNT or whomever they’re working for has some kind of hold on one or more officials. How far it reaches I don’t know. I also don’t know whether they’re blackmailing, threatening or intimidating these suckers.” Manny might look absentminded, but once again he had just proven his mental acuity. “And you”—he pointed accusingly at me—“you’re holding out too much on me. I want to know who this person is who is helping you. Finding Danielle’s identity could not have been easy. Not without breaking a law or two. I will not have my name, my reputation tainted by some illegal activity. Who is helping you?”

I stared at Manny in horror. For the second time today, the truth was desperately fighting to pass my lips.

“Don’t say a word, Genevieve.” Phillip’s order came fast and strong. He turned to Manny. “I know who she’s working with and it’s under control. Can’t you just accept the progress that we’ve made and that we are finding enough evidence to put an end to this?”

The two men stared at each other for a full minute before Manny relented. “For now, Phillip. I will back off, but only for now.”

I slowly exhaled a breath I hadn’t even known I had been holding. Manny grumbled for another five minutes about honesty and openness in this case. As usual, Phillip calmed him with promises that from now on we would have daily meetings to report back with whatever discoveries we made. I started packing up my computer. It seemed like our meeting was finished, and a longing to be in my viewing room, isolated from the rest of the world, overwhelmed me.

I stood up and announced, “I’m going to work.” Without waiting for a reaction, I picked up my bags and headed to the door. No sooner had I opened the door to a sunlit street than Vinnie appeared at my side.

“Where to, Jen-girl?”

“The office, please.”

We walked to his SUV and got in without saying another word. I really liked that about Vinnie. He knew when not to talk. And if he did and I wasn’t listening, he never took offence. It made it easier to tolerate having him around all the time.

We left the seedier side of town behind, slowly making our way through the quaint streets of the historic part of town. The trees lined most of the streets and the ornate streetlamps added a unique charm to the pedestrian-friendly sidewalks.

It was time to get my head back into this case. I had a lot of loose pieces that needed connecting and had no idea where to start. It was beginning to feel like I was running in circles. It was not a comfortable feeling and I hoped that I was going to change that today.

I was still running in circles. I looked at the three computer screens in front of me and wanted to use some of the words Vinnie had uttered when he had burned his hand on the stove yesterday.

It had been an extremely frustrating few days since I had met Leon. Daily meetings with Manny had done nothing to further our co-operation. He had seemed more angered by my lack of new connections and information than I was. Aggravating man.

After four days of fourteen-hour searches, countless data files being perused and combed through, I had nothing. To top everything, Colin had disappeared. He had left a message with Vinnie that he was looking into something and would check in as soon as he could. That was also four days ago. I hadn’t heard anything from him since. I was getting increasingly annoyed with agents and criminals alike.

“Your coffee, m’lady.” Vinnie placed a steaming mug of coffee on the coaster next to my right hand. “You should really take a break, Jen-girl. It’s Sunday morning, for goodness’ sake. You should be enjoying a lazy breakfast.”

I glared at the huge man hovering over me. He reminded me of a documentary I watched about fowl. Not even the mother hens clucked around their chicks as much as he did around me. I didn’t tell him that he reminded me of a chicken though. With a sigh I sat back and reached for the coffee. “Where is Colin?”

Vinnie pulled out a chair and sat down facing me. He was wearing his usual canvas pants and loose T-shirt. I had wondered if he had any other clothes in his wardrobe, but after a week of him living in my apartment, I had come to the conclusion that this was his uniform. His pants and shirts were always neatly pressed, just like a uniform, and he took great care with his appearance. He was also quite fastidious about keeping the kitchen neat. This man was a surprising perfectionist.

“He said he would come as soon as he can, Jen-girl.”

“Where is he?” This time I infused much more demand in my voice. This brought humour lines to soften Vinnie’s features.

“Busy.”

“Is he working on this case?” If I had not been so annoyed by his amusement and watching him so closely I would not have caught the micro-expression of discomfort. “Vinnie! Is Colin not working on this case?”

“I did not say that.”

“You didn’t need to. It’s written all over your face. What is he doing?”

“Jen-girl,” he pleaded, “I can’t tell you. Colin will come back soon. Most likely today.”

I let out a feminine groan of annoyance, a sound very unlike me. This broke the last of the tenuous hold I had on my patience. I could feel my gaze intensifying and by the alarmed look on Vinnie’s face, he had noticed the depth of my ire. At the exact moment I was ready to blast him with four days of built-up frustration, a strange ringing came from my handbag on the chair next to me.

“Your phone is ringing.”

“Nobody should be phoning me.” I opened my handbag with more force than necessary. I found my phone in its pocket. A glance at the screen did not help me to identify the caller. I slid my finger across the touch screen to answer the call. “What?”

“Is that how you answer your phone, Doctor Face-reader?” The surprise in Manny’s voice drove my annoyance level higher.

“Where did you get my number? Nobody is supposed to have my number.”

“Phillip gave it to me. You never answer your home phone, so I made him give me this number.”

I was going to kill Phillip for this. “It’s Sunday morning, Manny. What do you want?”

“I was hoping that you
maybe discovered something new. I just got off the phone with the Chief. And he gave me hell. We need to make some headway, missy.”

“Doctor,” I said through my teeth. “Maybe if I had the financials from the Foundation, I would have been able to give you something new. Where are those financials? You keep promising them to me.”

“And I keep telling you that I’ve requested them. As soon as I get the figures, they will be available to you.” He took an audible breath, I supposed to calm himself. He sounded as annoyed as I felt. “Are we done with this hostile greeting?”

Shame pushed colour into my cheeks. Hoping that Vinnie didn’t see me blushing was too much to hope for. He was staring at me, listening intently to my side of the conversation. I turned my torso away from Vinnie and sighed. “I’m sorry, Manny. I’m just frustrated that I’ve not made any new progress.”

The silence that left the open line softly buzzing made me wonder if I had shocked Manny with my apology. It made me feel a bit better that I might have surprised the perpetually dishevelled agent. “I understand your frustration. After the Chief’s phone call this morning, I threw my cereal bowl against the wall. Now I have to clean the mess up.”

I laughed softly at the image of a pyjama-clad Manny cleaning up soggy cornflakes from the walls and floor. At moments like this I almost liked him. “Why is the Chief pushing this so much?”

“Good question. It isn’t as if I’m taking time off other projects or neglecting anything important. If anything, this should be given more time and attention. I really don’t like being torn another one.”

“Another what?”

There was a moment of silence. “Nothing. Never mind. Did you look at the email Leon sent you?”

“I did. And as I said in my email that I
cc’ed you on, none of those insignias look even close to the one I saw on the uniform.”

“Are you sure?” His question rankled me. Instead of being rude, I chose to remain silent. After a while he got the message. “Okay, that’s settled then. Please just tell me that you did discover something new.”

“Nothing new. Just more confirmation. Everything I know, I emailed you in the last report.” At least writing that report had made me feel productive. I was fast nearing a point of desperate frustration.

“This is how most investigations go. You get a lead, hit a wall, get a lead,
hit another wall. Sometimes you happen upon that one thing that brings everything together and answers all the questions.” The line was quiet for a long time while both of us were lost in our thoughts. Manny sounded tired when he spoke again. “Have you looked at the file on the weapons theft?”

“I have, but not in depth. I looked superficially for something that might represent a pattern, but got a bit lost in this shipping thing. I’ll look into it soon.”

“Do that, and let me know if you find something.” We exchanged awkward goodbyes and ended the phone call. I leaned back in my chair and wished for some kind of inspiration to start a new search that might lead to more clarity about how everything fit together.

“Telephone skills are not one of your strengths, Jen-girl.” Vinnie’s voice broke into my thoughts and I turned to him. I had forgotten about his presence. He had an uncanny ability to blend into his environment. Numerous times I had forgotten about him being in my apartment while he sat a few feet away from me reading his newspaper. It would appear that I was comfortable in his presence. “Jen-girl? Come back to me.”

“Hmm?” Once again I had disappeared into my head, trying to understand all these new dynamics in my life. “Oh, the phone. No, I don’t like speaking on the phone.”

“Why not?” He looked genuinely interested.

“Body language accounts for an overwhelming percentage of our communication. If I only have a small percentage to analyse, I don’t understand people and can’t tell when people are lying.”

Vinnie gave a surprised laugh. “You really believe people lie so much?”

“Of course. It is part of social interaction. Saying what is truly on your mind, giving your honest opinion and answering questions truthfully is an overwhelmingly bad thing to do in a social setting. Being polite and diplomatic relies heavily on your skills to twist the truth so it doesn’t upset anyone.”

“Wow. And you never lie?”

“Not never. I lied last week.” I had to stop talking because Vinnie was laughing so hard. He must have seen the look on my face, because he stopped.

“I’m sorry, Jen-girl. I really didn’t mean to offend or hurt you. I’ve just never met anyone like you. And that is a compliment.”

My smile thanking Vinnie for his strange compliment froze as a familiar figure walked towards us from the direction of the study. Colin. He had broken in again. Our eyes met and widened in an involuntary micro-expression. This indicated a positive emotional response to a pleasant surprise. It immediately made me irrationally angry that I was as happy to see him as he me. Combined with his refusal to use the front door, it had my blood pressure soaring. “Where have you been?”

“Hi, Jenny. Miss me?” He gave me an arrogant smile and nodded to Vinnie. “What’s up?”

I didn’t give Vinnie a chance to return the greeting. My voice was hostile at the realisation that I actually did miss the criminal. “Four days. You just up and go for four days doing God knows what. I know that you haven’t been working on this case. How am I supposed to trust your commitment to this when you go off without giving me the courtesy of telling me?”

Colin’s eyes narrowed and the corners of his mouth moved slightly down. I was making him angry. “Jenny, stop.”

“Dude, I didn’t tell her anything. I swear.” Vinnie sounded worried.

“I know, Vin.” He gave Vinnie a half smile. “She read you.”

“
She
is here.” I slapped my hand on the dining room table. To my disgust, tears were gathering in my eyes. I hadn’t cried in front of people in eighteen years. I bit down hard on my teeth, resenting everyone who had caused me to have uncontrolled emotions in the last week.

All signs of anger on Colin’s face were immediately replaced with concern. Slowly, as if not to startle me, he pulled a chair closer and sat down between Vinnie and me. How could he look so calm when my emotions were bouncing around like this? Emotions had always been a nuisance to me. I knew that they were messengers, telling me what was happening in my psyche, but having them often interfered with rationality. And now was a time to regain my grip on rational thought. My breathing had become too rapid and I focussed on calming myself and closing my mind to pesky emotions.

I called up one of Mozart’s earlier works and concentrated on the blank sheet of mental music paper. It took writing nine bars until I felt normalcy settle in me. I opened my eyes to find Colin sitting close. He leaned a bit closer and gently placed a warm hand on my clenched fists. “I’m sorry I left like that, Jenny. I never meant to upset you.”

“I shouldn’t have been so upset just now.”

“What caused it?” he asked with a concerned frown.

“The realisation that I missed you.” The words were out of my mouth before I could stop them. A sense of vulnerability and terror washed over me. I squeezed my eyes closed and frantically started writing a few more bars of Mozart. In over two decades I had not given anyone this much power to hurt me as I had just done. Admitting that I had felt the loss of Colin’s company placed me in a position that I had sworn to myself I would never occupy again. I didn’t want to need people.

“Jenny, look at me.”

It took me three more bars before I opened my eyes and looked in a face completely devoid of malice. I studied him intently for a full minute before I allowed myself to believe that he looked genuinely concerned. To his and Vinnie’s credit, neither had uttered as much as a snicker at my uncensored admission.

“I’m okay.” I answered the question I saw in his eyes.

“Good.” He leaned in even closer to completely invade my space and whispered, “I also missed you.”

Relief stole my breath. I knew that it showed clearly on my face. There was no way that I was able to control that intense an emotion from showing. Colin gave my hands a light squeeze before he released them and sat back. “If I promise to never leave you like that again, will you tell me where you are on the case?”

I dismissed his promise with a wave of my hand, thankful to move away from emotions, and proceeded to tell him the miniscule progress we had made in the last four days. The few bars of Mozart that I had written had also served to calm my frustration with the case. As I told Colin about my conversation with Manny, something was pushing in the back of my head, seeking attention. Maybe if I wrote a few more bars, I could allow it entrance and examination. I suspected it was the key to moving forward.

“Have you checked names of the dead artists against the shipping manifests, guest lists, etcetera?” Colin’s question blasted through my brain like lightning. That was the thought that had been seeking entrance.

“I was waiting for you.” I turned back to the computer and immediately opened that file. “I found five artists who were murdered and you knew of thirteen. You never gave me their names. Without more data the search would have been futile.”

One by one Colin recited names. A few he had to spell, their foreignness uncomfortable on the ear and tongue. Two of the names I already had on my list. It was with those two and four others that sadness changed Colin’s voice. He had known these people. I turned to him and held his eyes for a short moment. “I’m sorry about this, Colin.”

“So am I.”

I entered all the names into the software to search against the ships’ manifests and pressed enter. “This is going to take some time. Vinnie made coffee. Would you like some?”