The Geneva Decision (28 page)

Pushing apart the chairs of Calixthe and Detective Janko, she placed her hands on the table and leaned toward Alphonse with an apologetic look.

“Pia?” he mumbled. “What happened?”

“Ah, well. What can I say? You came at a bad time.”

He looked around. “Susan Duncan?”

“Yes.”

“And the man—Detective Janko, oui?”

“Yes.”

“Not the good thing. Not good to capture police officers.” He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. He looked down at his arms. “And we are all tied up?”

“Yes.”

He took another deep breath and shook his curly locks.

“I have done something wrong?”

“Well, I’m not sure.”

He looked up at her. “You suspected me. Then I showed up unannounced.”

“Yes.”

“I checked in with the police. They were discussing you. They questioned me. I was worried. I … should have called.”

“There was nothing you could do, Alphonse.” She looked away. “Before I turn you loose, I have to ask you some questions.”

“No, no. Do not turn me loose.”

“If you’re innocent, and I think you are, then I need your help.”

“No, no, no. I am in trouble now with my Capitaine because I came here—”

“I saw the text.”

“And when I arrived, I reported my intentions to the local police—”

“Janko?”

“Oui. They detained me an hour. And now—”

“I get it,” she said. “If I untie you now, you’re in more trouble than if I keep you tied up.”

“That is half the problem.”

Pia waited.

“If I were you,” Alphonse said, “and found so much evidence against Lamartine, I would not trust the man. I do not want to live under the suspicions of Pia Sabel. I ask you—keep me here until you trust me. The decision you make on your own, not because of my persuasions.”

Pia stared at him. Not the reaction she expected. It would have been better if he were angry.

“OK then, you stay tied up. Now for the questions. First, who is Susan Duncan?”

“Mata Hari,” he said with contempt. “The CIA temptress of the worst kind. She made havoc of NATO soldiers stationed in Berlin.”

Pia raised her eyebrows. “She’s not exactly a looker.”

“Women have the mistaken impression of what appeals to the man. Yes, beauty is an appeal. It is easy to see and easy to identify. But mostly men fall for availability and the willingness.”

“What?”

“Most men can only obey Mother Nature. If he finds the woman both willing and available, he will oblige Mother Nature’s directives to, ehm, reproduce. Some men have the higher moral code. Soldiers, far from home, listen more to Mother Nature more than moral codes.”

“And you—you oblige Mother Nature’s directives whenever you find a woman willing and available?”

“I must admit, before I met you, moral codes seemed most inconvenient. Now, my thinking is different. I think the moral code most desirable and worthwhile.”

“Yeah, sure.” She huffed and paced. She wanted it to be true, but in her experience with men, truth was a moving target. “Why were you dismissed from the army?”

“Heh, heh. Ah, the Mother Nature problem is mine also. The general’s daughter, just back from university in America, was willing—”

“Yeah. OK. I get it.” She paused. “So Susan Duncan seduced NATO soldiers. Why?”

“She was the recruiter, one who persuades men to share the secrets.”

“By sleeping with them?” Pia asked.

“I did not know the details. Only the problem.”

“But Walter and Conor were English. The CIA wants spies in the UK?”

Alphonse shrugged. “They were long before my time. But she was still active five years ago. Besides, the CIA is the CIA. They do what they do. They cannot help themselves. Do they spy on the ally to ensure he is still the ally? Or do they spy on the ally because they can?”

“Did you give up France’s secrets?”

“I was the cure. Seducing her was my duty, for France.” He coughed. “Only for France.”

Pia smiled. “So I’m looking at the stud muffin of the French army. Impressive. When I wake her up, will she verify this?”

Alphonse shrugged with a smirk. “After I filed my report, the CIA sent her away within the hour.”

“When was the last time you contacted her?”

“Yesterday. I asked her about Elgin Thomas—I thought she might know how to find him. Later I discover he died of cancer two years ago.”

“And until yesterday you never contacted her.”

“No reason. Her idea of love was full of enthusiasm but without soul. She called on me many times. I did not encourage her. I even considered getting the … what do you call them in America? The restraining order?”

Pia stopped pacing and stared at him for a moment. Laughter erupted from deep inside her. She looked at Susan Duncan-Calixthe Ebokea-Elgin Thomas. A seductress to Conor and probably Walter. But she meant nothing to France’s official NATO stud. At first Alphonse seemed a little embarrassed. Then he laughed with her.

“You think I am full of myself, oui? Ah, I think you are right.”

Pia composed herself, handed the smelling salts to Klaus, and pointed to Detective Janko. While the salts tickled his nose, she positioned herself across from him. She pulled up the compromising pictures of the detectives on her phone and held them up. They were the first things he saw.

“Sorry, Detective,” she said. “You came at a bad time last night. Sitting next to you is Susan Duncan, a former CIA operative wanted for murder and piracy in Cameroon. With her are two of her associates. I missed the fourth in their party, a man named Mustafa Ahmadi. Either I let these killers go free or I turn them over to you. I’ll ask you about that in a minute.

“In front of you is Lieutenant Alphonse Lamartine, recently on assignment with the Geneva Police. He can confirm my story. If he’s not enough, the weapon used to shoot both Agent Tania Cooper and Monique Tsogo are here on the sideboard, complete with fingerprints.” She let it sink in for a beat. “What would you like to do, detective?”

Janko’s eyes seared into her. His wrists strained, his entire body shook with anger. Pia pointed a gun at him.

“Or I can put you back to sleep, email these pictures to your coworkers, and leave you two handcuffed to the bedpost naked. So take a minute to think things through.”

Alphonse looked at Janko and shook his head. He said, “Look around you, Detective. She’s a twenty-five-year-old footballer who captured everyone at this table, including you and me. She offers you the credit for these arrests. You are the smart man to take this offer.”

Detective Janko looked away, his face screwed up tight. He took a few deep breaths and came back to look at Alphonse. He said, “You work with this woman?”

“I am bound as are you, monsieur. Working together is not the good description.”

Janko bit his lip.

“Let him think,” Alphonse said. “Perhaps his assistant will be the more agreeable one.”

Pia smiled. “I don’t need either of them. I was just trying to be nice. Next one to wake up is Calixthe.”

After several repeated applications by Klaus, Calixthe’s eyes opened and snapped around the room. She winced at the sight of her goons tied up and drugged. When she recognized Alphonse, her face flushed red.

“Sucks, huh, Susan?” Pia said. “All those years as a CIA agent and you get zapped by a spoiled rich kid—not just once but twice. Don’t make me do it a third time.” She pointed. “I’m getting tired of dragging your carcass around. The guy sitting next to you is Detective Janko of the Vienna Polizei. He’s looking for the woman who tried to kill Monique Tsogo and Tania Cooper. I’ve got your gun over there, with your fingerprints all over it, ready to hand over for evidence. Now, I want you to pay close attention Susan-Duncan-Elgin-Thomas-Calixthe-Ebokea, whatever your name is. Here’s the deal. You give me a clue, just a little clue, that will lead me to le Directeur, and I turn you loose right now. You get a head start on Detective Janko. Not much of a chance, but a lot better than you have at the moment. All you have to do is tell me something I can believe. Ready? Go.”

Calixthe glared at her.

“Oooh, you remind me of the Ukranian captain just before she got a red card for taking a swing at me,” Pia said. “But she wasn’t tied to a chair. C’mon, think about it, Calixthe. What? I’m not hearing anything. Want the deal? Calixthe? Susan? Hello? No? OK.”

“You could have planted fingerprints,” Janko said. “While she was tied up. You have no chain of custody documentation.”

Something about that phrase struck a chord in Pia’s mind.
Chain of custody
. She knew it was important. Everyone stared at her while she thought. Where did it fit in? She concentrated for a moment but the meaning eluded her. It would come to her when she stopped thinking about it.

She turned her gaze back to Janko.

“Are you really a policeman?” Pia leaned into his face. “Monique is in critical condition, but they say she’s going to live. You think she can identify the person who dragged her out of the women’s room at the Radisson and shot her in the ribs? How about Tania? She’s on pain meds in the next room. Want me to wake her up and ask her? We can make a little line-up right here in this room. We have three women to choose from: Calixthe, me, and you—the pussy of Vienna.”

Alphonse laughed until Janko glared at him.

Pia caught Klaus’s eye and pointed to Walter Walcott. While he administered smelling salts, she leaned across the table into Calixthe’s face. She said, “Walter here was less than pleased when I told him you killed his pal Conor. I’m thinking I can skip the whole Austrian criminal justice system and just give Walter a gun. I think he’d blow your brains out, Susan. What do you think?”

“Conor is dead?” Calixthe paled.

“Yes.”

“How?”

“Mustafa.”

Calixthe looked down at the table.

Pia said, “You want me to believe you didn’t order the hit?”

Calixthe twisted in her chair. Her silence told Pia everything.

Pia leaned in close. “Feeling alone, Calixthe?”

The woman glared at her again but couldn’t keep it up. She looked away.

“So it’s true,” Pia said. “Mustafa’s taking over. That’s why le Directeur didn’t come in person tonight. He didn’t even send his assassin—he sent you. And we both know why, don’t we?”

Calixthe stared at the table.

“He knew it was a trap, Calixthe. He knew I’d win because I always win. So he sent you and you fell for it. You figured this was your chance to get back on his good side. You even brought your best boys for the job.”

She walked around behind Calixthe. Leaned down, her face next to Calixthe’s ear. “You lost.”

Calixthe tried to move her head. Her teeth flashed as if she were trying to bite someone. Too bad her head was still taped to the chair.

Pia said, “Give me le Directeur and I’ll let you make a break for it.”

“Why would you let me run?”

“Three reasons. One, I want le Directeur. Two, you’re Cameroon’s problem. Three, you’re ineffective and therefore no longer a threat.”

“How can I trust you?”

“If anyone thinks I’m dishonest—raise your hand.” Pia looked around the table at her trussed up captives. “There you have it. Unanimous.”

She smiled. Calixthe scowled. Pia said, “OK. You have my word in front of these witnesses. I won’t stop you. Unless you do something stupid like make for my little gun collection over there.”

“OK, untie me and I’ll tell you a little.”

“You cannot be serious!” Janko said. “You will not turn her loose.”

“What is with you?” Pia said. “You try to arrest me for assaulting a killer, you don’t take me up on the offer to let you be the hero, and now you want to tell me what to do? Shut up or I’ll turn your lights out again.”

Janko fumed and squirmed in his chair.

“I have changed my mind, detective,” Alphonse said. “I think you are not the smart man. Not at all.”

Pia nodded to Klaus and he cut Calixthe loose. Pia kept her gun trained on Calixthe and said, “Quickly now—a good clue or I dart you and you’re back where you started.”

“I never learned their names,” Calixthe said. “I know that he works at one of the banks. He lives well but never has cash. I know nothing about her except that they are lovers.”

“That’s it? Riddles? You expect me to turn you loose with that?”

Calixthe looked hurt.

“C’mon, tell me what they look like. What language do they speak? Haircuts? Race? Height?”

“They speak French and German. They’re both average height. He wore a fake mustache. She wore a shoulder-length blonde wig. They’re both white.”

Pia rolled her eyes. “You’re a waste of time.”

She tossed her head toward the door. Calixthe took two steps. A dart popped in from the other room. Calixthe fell to the floor only two steps from her chair.

Detective Janko said, “You lied to her.”

“Did I lift a finger to stop her?”

Chapter 39

28-May, 8AM

F
rom the living room, Tania said, “I’m going back to bed now.”

“OK, I’ve heard enough,” Janko said. “Cut me loose, please.”

“Hang on.” Pia recorded him with her phone. “Tell me what you’ve learned.”

Janko recited the evidence as presented and pledged to let Pia leave Austria on her own terms. They agreed that neither of them would benefit from bringing the darting of Janko to light. Klaus cut him loose and woke his partner. And, at Janko’s insistence, she reluctantly deleted the staged pictures of him.

Turning to Walter, Pia said, “Listen, this is your last chance. You just watched Calixthe sell out le Directeur. What do you think she’s going to tell the Austrian polizei about you? She’ll be a witness against you, claiming you’re Elgin Thomas. A former CIA agent makes a believable witness. Tell me where I can find Mustafa—I’ll take care of him and you’ll have one less problem.”

Walter’s head nodded in tiny bobs. “He went to Geneva. We split up in Brussels.”

“Why would he go there? They’re looking for him.”

“The three of them, both les Directeurs and Susan, hatched the plan together. But she pushed them around too much. Wanted more of the money. Then they met Mustafa. He was like their mad dog. When they send him to kill somebody, it got done. Besides, he was the one who knew the Filipinos. Their kind work cheap and keep their mouths shut.”