The Taming of the Thief (26 page)

 
   
 
And
the time it took to tell it.

 
   
 
“I
t was a low caliber bullet.” Bryant
explained, taking a corner sharply. Uptown traffic wasn't cooperating with
them, but the park and the museum were just a couple of blocks away.

 
   
 
“So no splatter.”
Pietr nodded. The medical examiner had
called the detective enroute; somehow he'd gotten a rush on the autopsy.

 
   
 
“The
killer wrapped him in construction plastic before weighing him down.”

 
   
 
“Like
what they have spread out in the new exhibit area.” Pietr gripped the door.
Even with the sirens whoop-whooping traffic was sluggish to get out of their
way. He'd heard nothing from Jacques and Viktor, but the men were capable and
other officers were closing in.

 
   
 
“I
would imagine the good Doctor Hinkley stood on some. Between that and the
low-caliber bullet, the shooter took the forensic evidence with him. The M.E.
has to run more tests, but that will take time.”

 
   
 
Pietr
nodded. “Sophie witnessed a shooting.”

 
   
 
“And
that someone must have known she saw them. It would explain why they took a
shot at her later in the day.”

 
   
 
“But
not why they tossed her place. Unless they think…” A cold fist punched into
Pietr's gut.

 
   
 
“Unless what?” Bryant gave him a sharp look.

 
   
 
One block to go.

 
   
 
“Unless
they think she has the Buddha. They could have gone there looking for it.”

 
   
 
“And her office at the museum?”

 
   
 
“Perhaps.
Either way, they didn't get what they were after.
Sophie didn't even realize that it might be in the museum.”

 
   
 
“Does
she know where it is now?”

 
   
 
“I
don't know.”

 
   
 
Tense silence.

 
   
 
Hang on Sophie.

 
   
“Y
our
Doctor tried to doublecross my employer.” The gunman shrugged. “When he
threatened to report us, it was time to silence him.”

 
   
 
“Doublecross?”
Sophie frowned. “He had some kind of deal?”

 
   
 
“
Oui.
He told our mutual employer he could
help transport items and locate particular missing pieces, but he failed to
deliver the last. He swore he'd mislaid it from the collection on purpose, but
when it came time to deliver, he expressed second thoughts.” The man made a
short, slashing motion with the gun. “Now, don't force me to find more plastic,
just retrieve the item so that I may complete the delivery.”

 
   
 
“You
really are thick. I don't know about a deal. I don't know what you were here to
pick up. And even if I did…” She cut the thought off.

 
   
 
“…and
even if you did, you wouldn't turn it over.” The man sighed. “You are going to
make me hurt you. I do not enjoy hurting women.”

 
   
 
“You
just enjoy terrifying them?” The more he spoke, the more confident she became
that he was the voice on the other end of the phone.
The man
who taunted her after trying to shoot her.
“You were the one who tried
to shoot me at the pub.”

 
   
 
“That
was Ortiz. Thankfully, the idiot is a miserable shot. Had he been successful,
he would have died much sooner. Just give me the item, Ms. Kingston.”

 
   
 
“What
item?” Sophie reached for the confusion of the last few days and let the
emotion play on her face. Terror dropped a hard rock into her stomach, compressing
her diaphragm and making it hard to breathe.

 
   
 
The
man slanted his head, his gaze hard and assessing.
“
The Fortunate Buddha
.”
He said
the name casually, without a hint of the reverence or respect that Pietr
intoned when he spoke of it.

 
   
 
“I
don’t know,” she replied truthfully. It seemed that everyone thought she was
connected to the cultural icon that served as a footnote for her dissertation.

 
   
 
“That
is…truly disappointing, Ms. Kingston.” Despite the gentle tone, the man's face
was a mask of frustration, his eyes cold with malice. “I have invested far too
much in this venture to return to my employer empty-handed.”

 
   
 
Realization stole over her, like the sun
creeping up in a wintry Eastern sky. The heat of knowledge watered down by the
understanding that as soon as she did give him what he wanted, she would be
dead.

 
   
 
“But
you do know, don't you?” He watched her and Sophie was not a good enough
actress to suppress the shiver of excitement, as she realized why the Doctor
hadn't been able to turn over the Buddha.

 
   
 
Sophie moved it.

 
   
 
What
a fool. It had even crossed her mind briefly when she'd walked the scene with
the Detective the day before. She'd been cataloging specific items for the
exhibit. The Buddha had been in the wrong aisle, away from the rest of the
collection. She'd tucked it into her cart without a second thought. It wasn't
that unusual to find misplaced or even mis-tagged items.

 
   
 
Her
job meant that she came into contact with nearly all of them. She would
retrieve the items to her office, research, re-tag and replace in the
collection.

 
   
 
But
instead, she'd watched the man in front of her kill a mentor and she'd
abandoned her cart, work and items forgotten.

 
   
 
“Where is the Buddha Ms. Kingston?” The man
closed the distance between them, gun barrel poking her viciously in the side.

 
   
 
“It's
a priceless artifact that belongs to a monastery, and since I don't think monks
would approve of a murderer's methods, I doubt that you are trying to return it
to where it belongs.”

 
   
 
The
blow came too fast. She had no time to react. Pain exploded across her face and
she slammed into the shelving, the metal brackets biting into her sides.

 
   
 
“My apologies, Ms. Kingston.
I am afraid I have a bit of a
temper.” The contrition in the man's voice sent dread coiling around her spine.
“And no tolerance for bitchiness.
Now be a good girl
and fetch the Buddha so we can be done with each other.”

 
   
 
Her
jaw throbbing, Sophie inched back to her feet, bracing herself on the shelf.
They were near the burial urns, sacred vases that contained food, wine and
other respites meant to comfort the deceased on their way to the underworld.

 
   
 
Sophie didn't find that thought remotely
comforting.

 
   
 
The
man cleared his throat and Sophie held up a hand as though to fend him off.

 
   
 
“If
it is here,” she began slowly, face pulsing so hard with every word that
swallowing hurt. “It will be in the collection for the new exhibit.”

 
   
 
“Lead
the way.” Like flipping a switch, the man went from menace to solicitation.

 
   
 
Oddly, Sophie preferred the menace. At least
that was honest.

 
   
 
“It's
that way.” She pointed down the shadowy hall created by the rows of stacks.
Dimly lit, the overheads threw waxy, yellow pools of light.

 
   
 
The
man shifted, glancing the way she pointed and Sophie seized the urn and threw
it. Years of Rhet's baseball games and playing catch paying off as the urn
struck him in the side of the head. The cracked pottery shattered, showering
him in dust and debris. The gun went off, shattering another urn, the shards
slashing at Sophie's legs. But she had already turned and bolted up the aisle,
racing for the sanctuary of the vaults.

 
   
“T
hat
was a gunshot.” Pietr froze at the hollow popping sound, his heart constricting
with grief. The security guard rushed the code and the door buzzed its refusal.
Pietr shoved him aside and punched in Sophie's code, confident the museum used
the same security at all levels.

 
   
 
He
was right. The door lock flashed green. He didn't wait for Bryant as the
Detective hissed orders to lock down the museum into his radio.

 
   
 
He
had to get to Sophie.

 
   
 
The
Detective appeared beside him, a gun in one hand and a flashlight in the other.
Coordinating silently, they moved to opposite sides of the stacks. The huge
area easily covered a square mile or more. The shelves towered eight feet into
the air, bolted to the floor with steel rivets and packed with boxed and stored
artifacts. The overhead lighting was kept low, but allowed the men to see well
enough to move.

 
   
 
At
the main juncture, they were at a crossroads where their shelving aisle meant
the central aisle. Numbers painted on the concrete told Pietr they were in
stack forty-one.

 
   
 
Sophie said each vault contained about eighty
stacks. Each stack was between four and six feet deep, allowing for large and
small item storage. Lifts were parked in the north and southwest corners and
used for retrieval of the items from the upper levels.

 
   
 
They
reserved the upper level storage for items rarely featured or older items,
removed from exhibit for any number of reasons. Moving diagonally, Bryant
followed Pietr's lead to aisle forty-four. They swept it with the flashlight
and then looked back to the main thoroughfare.

 
   
 
Bryant nodded and led the way to aisle
forty-six. Broken pottery, dust and dark damp spots on the floor froze Pietr's
heart.

 
   
 
The
Detective dropped down and used a plastic glove to check the spots.

 
   
 
They
were red.

 
   
 
A
second shot ripped through the silence.

 
   
S
ophie
pulled her feet up as she slid onto the second level of the stack, pulling her
knees to her chest. She ignored the stinging pain and rolled back into the
shadows behind the exhibits. She didn't know why he'd fired his gun a second
time, but she was determined to not provide a target.

 
   
 
Footsteps sounded to her left and she shrank
back. Her rapid, shallow breathing sounded raspy and loud in her ears. She
forced herself to breathe slower. Her heart thudded so hard, it had to echo.
Breathing slower hurt, her chest fought her as she resisted the urge to suck in
air greedily.