The Thieves of Darkness (42 page)

Levant stood in the back of the van, holding the leather tube that matched the description given by the woman. He glared at the thief.

“You caused great embarrassment to us,” Levant said harshly, his voice deep and scratchy from years of smoking.

The baby-faced thief remained silent as he stared back with icy, emotionless eyes.

“On the world stage, no less,” Levant continued. “Sometimes I hate the laws that bind us, as I’m sure someone of your profession does. They restrict us from carrying out those impulses, those feelings where we just want to mete out justice on the spot. Where we just want to reach across the van and snap the skinny neck of the guilty.”

Levant turned his attention back to the satchel, opened the top of the tube, and peered inside. The eyes of his men were upon him as he reached into the long leather tube and withdrew the long bubble-wrapped object. Two of the officers let out slow whistles of admiration as their eyes fell upon the jeweled heads that were exposed above the wrapping. They all stared at the two snakes, the serpents poised to strike each other. Levent looked at the bubble wrap and slowly unwrapped it. And as the shaft of the rod was exposed, he looked at his men, who all shook their heads in confusion. He turned and held the rod before Iblis.

The shaft was a simple piece of wood, pine, brand-new. Levant flicked his index finger against the head of one of the snakes; he grasped one of the mouths and its left silver fang snapped off in his finger.

“Is this a joke? This is a piece of crap,” Levant said.

Iblis sat there, not a trace of emotion in his eyes as he looked upon the false rod.

Detective Levant looked back into the tube, tilted his head in curiosity, and turned it upside down. The object trickled out like water into his hands. He held it up for all to see, the diamonds glinting in the sun that poured through the truck’s rear window. The bejeweled necklace was exquisite, diamonds joined along a string of silver with a blue sapphire pendant in the center.

A slight change washed over Iblis’s face.

“You jeopardized Turkey’s reputation for this?”

“I want to call my lawyer,” Iblis said quietly, with no hint of emotion.

“You can call ten lawyers; there is no one who will save you from your fate.”

As Iblis sat there, resuming his silence, none of the police could see his cuffed hands behind his back. The blood was already beginning to drip, pooling on the wooden bench as he gouged the flesh of his left forearm with his fingernail, digging in, tearing the skin away.

Iblis finally turned his head, his eyes widening as if he’d suddenly woken up; he looked at Levant, and smiled.

KC
BURST THROUGH
the door of the Occidental Suite at the Four Seasons Istanbul.

Michael sat at the dining room table, the two leather satchels of their stolen goods before him. Upon the table was a host of documents, an open bottle of Jack Daniel’s, and two cell phones.

“Where is she?” KC said, her breath coming in fits as she hurried into the room.

“She’s in the shower,” Michael said as he sorted through his paperwork.

“How
is she?” KC’s face squinched up, concerned with the answer.

“She’s fine. Pissed”—Michael looked at her—“but fine.”

“Pissed?” KC stopped in her tracks. “Does she know what
we
went through?”

Michael sat quietly, bracing himself, letting her vent.

“This is the way it has always been. She doesn’t even take my phone calls.” KC pointed to Cindy’s cell phone on the table. “Did she see my number come up? And ignore me?”

“Well…” Michael didn’t want to answer her question.

“Did she?”

“She looked at her phone, saw it was you. Decided to go take a shower.”

“Doesn’t she realize I have sacrificed my life for her?” KC began pacing, thinking, finally turning back to Michael. “And she has the nerve to ignore me?”

“KC,” Michael said, his voice gentle, quiet. He finally stood and walked over to her as she stopped her aimless meandering. “She needs to work these things out in her head. She was kidnapped; she never faced her own mortality before. She’s never dealt with anything like this. That’s a rough thing. I remember my dad, my adoptive father, said just because you love your kids, that doesn’t mean you like them every day, but you never, ever stop loving them. It doesn’t make one a bad parent, a bad child, a bad sister. It’s one of life’s things; life is never steady, it’s up and down all the time. We can’t just love someone when things are good, when life is rosy; if we truly love someone we love them even more on their bad days, their worst of days.”

“It hurts, Michael,” KC said softly.

“It’s the people we love the most who can hurt us the deepest. You have to remember, the ones we love, we take their trust in our hands and we try not to crush it as we protect them.”

“You’re defending her?” KC asked with a tinge of appreciation.

“I’m defending two people who love each other. You’re sisters, the only family either one of you has. I know you guys will work it out.”

KC relaxed and exhaled as she looked into Michael’s eyes; his calming voice, his sense of balance infected her. A smile creased her lips as she understood what Michael was saying.

“Do you mind?” KC picked up Michael’s glass of whiskey. “I kind of need it.” KC’s mood lightened as she looked at the two satchels on the dining room table.

“I can’t imagine what’s going through Iblis’s head right now,” KC said as she picked up and opened the leather tube, looking in at the twin snake heads, their red eyes and silver teeth glinting under the lights of the chandelier. “How the hell did you come up with a false head?”

“I made it early this morning while you were sleeping. I took a mold of the head. It’s pretty crude.”

“It was good enough to fool him. Where did you make it?” KC closed the container and laid it back on the table.

“In the mechanic’s shop at the hangar.”

“You didn’t sleep at all last night, did you?” KC said, shaking her head. “I would have gone with you.”

“You needed the rest.”

“And you didn’t?”

“But your necklace, that was a pretty pricey thing to frame him with.”

“Trust me,” KC said. “It couldn’t have been put to better use.”

“Wait until they check out his house, the art world is going to have a field day.”

“What did he have, anything good?”

Michael paused, emphasizing the moment. “Da Vinci’s
Madonna of the Yarnwinder.”

“What?” KC said in genuine surprise.

“Picasso’s
Nature Morte à la Charlotte
,” Michael continued.

“Holy shit, he was good.”

“He did the Gardner Museum in Boston.”

“You saw the Rembrandts?”

“And the Vermeers, the Manet, and the five Degas.”

KC couldn’t help laughing at the enormity of what Iblis had done.

“KC?” Michael said solemnly.

“Yeah?” She was shaking her head, lost in thought.

“His favorite painting, the one on most prominent display, was
Concerto de Oberion
.”

KC’s smile of wonderment dissolved.

“He killed those people in Berlin,” Michael said, his voice filled with contempt. “He tortured the curator.”

KC and Michael fell into silence, pondering the depravity of Iblis and the life he led, the moment dragging on as if in respect for those who had died six years earlier in the Franze Museum.

“Can I see the chart?” KC downed the rest of Michael’s glass of whiskey, looking to change the subject.

Michael smiled as he picked up and opened the second tube. He removed the gazelle skin and rolled it out on the dining room table before KC. They both stood under the chandelier, quietly looking at the detail.

“It’s so intricate…” KC whispered as if in the presence of something holy.

And it truly was. It depicted eastern Africa across the Indian Ocean to the South China Sea. It illustrated in great detail Australia, Indonesia, the minute specificity of Micronesia all the way up to Japan. Many of the grand rivers of Asia from the Ganges and the Padma to the Yangtze, the Yellow and the Zhu Jiang rivers were meticulously drawn, with cities and towns highlighted along their banks.

Her eyes caught sight of a giant serpent, a dragon, on the uppermost regions of the map. “Please don’t tell me that’s what this leads to.”

“No,” Michael said with a laugh. “That’s terra incognita, unknown lands. Some cartographers liked to label unexplored regions on their maps with fancy depictions of mythical beasts.”

KC smiled and sat atop the table as she resumed studying the chart. Her eyes were eventually drawn to the Himalayas, and to one particular peak. It was surrounded by a great deal of Turkish writing that sat next to pictures of gold and silver, jewels, books, and grain.

“So that is what everyone is so interested in,” KC said softly as she traced her finger along a highlighted path from the Bay of Bengal up the Padma River and the Jamuna River and then trekking over land through to Darjeeling, India, and finally into the peaks of the Himalayas. “What do you think is there?”

“Don’t know and I don’t want to know,” Michael said.

“Not the least bit curious?” KC joked.

“If it scares Simon then it scares me.” Michael rolled up the chart and inserted it in the tube. “I need to bring these to him.”

“I’m going with you. I just need to speak to Cindy first.” KC smelled her armpit and arched her brow in question. “And maybe a real quick shower?”

“I think that would be for the benefit of all,” Michael joked. “Besides, we don’t want you infecting anyone at the hospital. Maybe I’ll grab a shower, too. Simon’s not awake yet anyway.” Michael looked at his watch. “Half hour?”

“Thanks.” KC sat on the table.

Michael gathered up his papers and cell phone and picked up the satchel with the real rod.

KC smiled and picked up the tube with the chart. “Do you mind if I look at the chart again?”

“Of course not,” Michael said as he slung the satchel with the rod on his shoulder. “Do me a favor, though, don’t let it out of your sight.”

KC hopped off the table and walked over to Michael; she paused a moment as she became lost in his eyes. She reached up and ran her hand through his hair and pulled him into a kiss. It was deep and sensual, and time seemed to slow. All of their effort, risk, and worry was behind them as they became lost in the moment. They held tight to each other, the minutes dragging on, running their hands over each other, their contact conveying their rising emotions.

“I don’t suppose…” Michael began.

“Later.” KC tilted her head toward the upstairs bedroom where Cindy was.

“Great, I love taking cold showers,” Michael said as he turned and walked out the door.

C
INDY OPENED THE
bathroom door, her body wrapped in a large white towel; she ran a brush through her wet auburn hair as she walked into the bedroom.

“Are you all right?”

Cindy jumped in surprise as she saw KC sitting on the bed.

The two sisters locked eyes, looking upon each other as if they were strangers. Cindy turned back to the mirror and continued working on her hair as if KC weren’t even there.

“I’m sorry,” KC said softly.

Cindy turned to her closet and drew out a tan Chanel dress wrapped in dry-cleaner plastic, hanging it on the door.

“I never meant any of this to happen.” KC bowed her head.

Cindy continued to ignore KC as she unwrapped the dress, balling up the plastic and throwing it in the garbage.

“I thought I was going to die,” Cindy said, her voice trembling just above a whisper. She spun around, tears of anger filling her eyes, the hairbrush vibrating in her shaking hands. “I was scared to death, but it’s not the kidnapping, KC. You know what hurts the most? It’s that the one person I trusted deceived me about everything. If you had been honest with me, this wouldn’t have happened. And for God’s sake”—Cindy shook with disgust—“you’re a criminal. You are what Mom fought so hard for us not to be: You’re a criminal just like our father was.”

Cindy fell silent; she turned back to the mirror, grasping the dresser as she tried to calm herself.

KC looked about the room, uncomfortable in the moment, searching for something to say, when she realized what was missing. “Where are your bags?”

“I sent them ahead. I’ve got an evening flight to London. I never want to see this place again.” Cindy removed the dress from the hanger and draped it over her head, pulling it down, smoothing it out over her body. “I’m probably going to lose my job.”

“You won’t,” KC said in her big-sister way.

“Like they’ll understand?”

“You were kidnapped,” KC said as if pointing out the obvious.

“Do you ever stop and think? I can’t tell them I was kidnapped, do you know how pathetic that sounds? That’s worse than ‘The dog ate my homework.’ Did you ever call the cops, fill out a missing persons police
report? No, you didn’t. You were probably afraid you’d be arrested. You see, there’s no evidence I was kidnapped. And how do I tell them I was set free?” Cindy threw open her hands in mock appreciation. “‘My sister and her boyfriend went and stole an ancient sea chart and then broke me out of some lunatic’s vault.’ No … I can’t imagine that going over well with the HR department.”

KC sat there listening, the truth sinking in.

“If my bosses were to find out that my sister is a thief, what do you think that would do to my chances of retaining my job? Now I’m going to have to be like you and come up with some lie. Any advice?” Cindy asked coldly.

“Integrity, KC, they value integrity. They asked in my interview who was the person I most admired, who I looked up to, who influenced my life the most, and you know what the answer was?” Cindy shook her head in disappointment. “The answer to every question was you.”

Cindy picked up her brush and ran it through one last time before fixing her hair with a large black hair clip.

“I don’t know what to say,” KC whispered in defeat.

“What do you even know about work, real work?” Cindy paused, “Legal work?”

KC could slowly feel their roles reversing: She had always been the one in charge, calling the shots, pontificating about right and wrong, telling her sister what to do, holding up a standard for her to aspire to. But now, as Cindy stood over her, her words like daggers upon her heart, KC felt like the child, felt as if she was the one who didn’t live up to expectations, who brought shame on their name.