Thieves Like Us 01 - Thieves Like Us (12 page)

BOOK: Thieves Like Us 01 - Thieves Like Us
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Patch glanced around the cramped, poky room but there was nothing else to see.

Con kicked a bedpost. ‘Once again, they have got here ahead of us.’

‘And that’s what we can expect if we run into them again,’ said Patch, drawing a finger slowly across his throat.

Chapter Ten

Jonah supposed there was nothing more to keep them in Cairo. Motti had used his flash mobile to call Coldhardt on speakerphone, told him the facts of last night’s escapades just as they’d happened – apportioning no credit and no blame. Coldhardt had endured the telling stoically – even the news that a man had been murdered in connection with the stolen lekythos. Now he wanted to inspect the pottery and the powder they’d recovered. Jonah imagined he’d soon be working on the cipher fragments, and felt a tingle of anticipation.

But they weren’t going back to Geneva. While they’d been gone, Coldhardt had relocated to his smaller base of operations in Siena – more convenient for the next stages of the operation, he said. He told them to fly there at once.

The plane had been berthed at a private airfield. Tye dropped the owner a stack of cash for the use of the facilities, for refuelling the King Air – and to keep him quiet.

‘Coldhardt always move around so much?’ asked Jonah, settling into the big, squashy chairs on board the plane.

‘Standard security,’ Motti told him. ‘Plus it’s closer to Samraj’s place in Florence, the place we’re turning over.’

‘That’s where she’s meant to keep her part of the recipe for this eternal life juice, right?’

‘Uh-huh. The Amrita.’

‘You honestly believe in that immortality stuff?’

He shrugged. ‘In this game it can be as dangerous to believe as to disbelieve, man. Me, I treat the unknown with respect. So should you.’

Jonah hadn’t expected such a considered response from Motti. He felt a little shiver snake down his back. ‘Sorry, I s’pose I –’

‘Don’t forget, Jonah, those tattooed types killed a man over this stuff. Killed him like it was nothing – maybe just to scare us away.’

‘And to think I went chasing after those people.’

Motti sniffed, dabbed at his bruised nose. ‘Something big is going down, all right.’

‘And will Coldhardt
let
us be scared away?’

‘What do you think?’

Jonah dwelled on the thought for a time. Then for the sake of his gooseflesh, he decided to change the subject. ‘So, anyway, Samraj’s house …?’

‘Big mansion, well-protected,’ said Motti. ‘Gonna be a real challenge, but I think I got it taped for the most part.’

Jonah raised an eyebrow. ‘Already?’

‘Sure, already!’ Motti grinned. ‘What did you think I was studying on the flight out to Cairo, geek?’

‘I thought you were working out how to crack that museum.’

‘That was, like, five minutes!’ The amusement faded from his face. ‘But this place … it’s a whole other league. Some
serious
security.’

Jonah looked out of his window, at the sea of cloud stretching out to the distant blue horizon. It looked so solid you could stand on it.

‘This whole thing has got a bit serious for me,’ he murmured.

Tye landed the plane at a small airfield in Siena where a car was waiting to collect them. Jonah stared out of the window at fields of wheat and poppies, at sleepy Tuscan villages nestling on hilltops beneath the faultless blue sky.

None of the others gave the surroundings more than a glance.

The base here was no less opulent than the Geneva headquarters. Coldhardt owned his own medieval castle overlooking fat sweeps of countryside. Huge palm trees flanked the front gates, towering above a line of sculpted topiaries like they were trying to peep over the castle walls.

‘Don’t people think it’s weird,’ Jonah wondered aloud, ‘people like us rolling up to a place like this?’

‘Pretty much the whole area is given over to tourist accommodation,’ said Con. ‘People think the castle is a luxury conference centre. And the neighbours change every couple of weeks so no one gets suspicious. It’s perfect.’

Certainly the driver didn’t even blink when his ragged passengers got out and trailed into the magnificent grounds of the twelfth-century
castello
.

Jonah was shown to his room, an apartment in a converted farmhouse in the shade of a sprawling mulberry tree. It was like some luxury holiday home – and certainly for now he was strictly a tourist, as the others were summoned to Coldhardt without him. Presumably they would brief the big man on Jonah’s performance, such as it was, as well as handing over the bits and pieces they’d managed to collect in Cairo.

Jonah was too tired to worry or care much about it. It was weird how fast you adapted, he thought. And it was hard to worry about the future when it was so sunny and warm and the pillow on your four-poster was so soft …

He caught up with the others later that afternoon in a quiet courtyard, the centrepiece of which was a fabulous outdoor pool. Con was sprawled on a sunlounger wearing a tiny red bikini, which probably explained why Patch was lying on his front to watch her. Regardless of the blazing sunshine, Motti was wearing his usual black jeans and T-shirt, reading a magazine through dark glasses. Tye was in the water, wincing as she exercised her bad shoulder.

‘How’d it go with Coldhardt?’ he wondered.

None of them seemed eager to talk about it.

‘It went OK,’ said Tye. ‘Considering.’

‘So can we pick up the self-defence class again?’ Jonah asked brightly. ‘With your shoulder out, I might stand a chance of beating you.’

‘Yeah, right,’ drawled Motti, turning a page. ‘You couldn’t beat an egg.’

‘He took
you
down,’ Con reminded him. Ignoring
the finger he raised in her direction, she looked at Jonah over her shades. ‘Tye’s still too sore for a workout. But I could show you some moves, yes?’

Jonah smiled nervously. ‘You could?’

She got up slowly, teeth bared in a sharp smile. ‘Sure. I’ve got some great moves.’

Motti glanced over at Patch. ‘Don’t you dare start humping that sunlounger again.’

‘You know, maybe I’ll pass,’ said Jonah, with a brief smile at Tye. ‘I think I was kicked into the pool enough times yesterday.’

Con’s flirtatious smile cooled a little. ‘It’s not all play here, Jonah. Coldhardt wants you trained up. I’ll meet you in the gym at seven tonight for a proper workout.’

With that she strutted slowly away from the poolside.

‘Jonah!’ Patch moaned. ‘What d’you go and do that for?’

‘To save you from going blind?’

Motti laughed. Encouraged, Jonah sat on a chair between the two. He felt the familiar urge to try and impress, to fling himself at them puppy-dog fashion in the hope of affection and acceptance – and as usual, heard the cynical voice in his head that told him he hadn’t a hope.

I don’t need this
, he told himself.

Tye’s voice in his head: ‘
Liar
.’

He noticed her looking his way for a few moments before she returned to her exercises, making slow, circling movements with both arms.

‘Con’s a bit of an ice queen, isn’t she?’ Jonah
observed. ‘Or is she secretly warm and cuddly underneath?’

‘She’s been through some tough times,’ said Patch.

‘Yeah, right. Haven’t we all?’

Motti turned another page. ‘Her parents were killed in front of her when she was eight,’ he said casually. ‘Family outing. They hit a truck, their car musta rolled over ten times. Con was smashed up in the back, pretty bad. Had to watch the medics cut Mommy and Daddy from the wreckage before they could even get to her –’

‘OK, OK, I take it all back!’ Jonah held up his hands. ‘God, that really
is
tough.’

‘You could say that,’ Motti agreed.

‘It’s why she won’t ride in the back seat,’ added Patch.

Jonah grimaced. ‘I’m surprised she’ll get in a car at all.’

‘Took her a long time,’ Tye remarked. ‘But she knew she was useless to Coldhardt if she couldn’t travel, so she gave herself some hypnotherapy.’


Mesmerism
therapy, you mean.’ Motti winked at her. ‘Sounds cooler.’

Jonah half-smiled. ‘So Con was the last person Coldhardt recruited before me, right?’

‘Must be nine months ago, now,’ said Patch. ‘We needed her for that crypt job in Lima.’

‘She kept half the shanty town off our backs while we got hold of that crystal,’ said Motti, his admiration plain. ‘
There is nothing to see here
,’ he mimicked crudely. ‘
Nothing to see
.’

Patch chuckled. ‘Yeah, we’re just nicking the object
you’ve been worshipping for hundreds of years!’

Jonah laughed along with them, though he didn’t find it so funny. ‘So I’m guessing Motti, you found the place, and Patch, you got them inside –’

‘Place was crawling with traps,’ Patch shuddered. ‘There were these big swords, right, rigged to spring out of the walls …’

‘Nice. What about you, Tye? What was your job?’

‘I took the curse off the crystal,’ she said simply.

Jonah raised his eyebrows. ‘Curse?’

‘Tye’s the voodoo lady,’ Motti murmured.

‘You’re joking.’

Motti turned another page. ‘Some things you don’t joke about.’


Then
I had to smuggle the thing out to Coldhardt’s buyer in Colombia,’ Tye went on. ‘Solo – while these assholes went off on a Caribbean cruise.’

‘You did tell us it would be safer if you worked alone,’ Patch reminded her.

‘Safer for you lot!’ Tye retorted. ‘It was after that little experience that Coldhardt agreed to get the plane.’

‘He could afford it after a sale like that,’ Motti remarked. ‘A cool million in one hit.’

Jonah whistled. ‘Coldhardt sells these relics to the highest bidder?’

‘Unless he’s specially hired for an assignment like this one,’ said Tye. ‘He works out what – and
who
– he needs to get the job done, and just gets on with it.’

‘And the first kid he recruited was Motti.’

‘This time around,’ Motti agreed.

A cloud drifted over the sun. The pool’s clear water
lost its glitter for a few seconds.

Jonah frowned. ‘So there were other Coldhardt’s children before you? What happened to them?’

Motti shrugged. ‘Had enough and moved on, I guess.’

‘Or maybe one day their luck ran out,’ said Jonah, ‘and something happened to them.’

Motti put down his magazine crossly. ‘Yeah, something happened to them all right – they got rich enough to retire, so they split. Nothing lasts for ever. Coldhardt woulda known ’em well enough by then to let ’em go without any comeback.’

‘Yeah, that makes sense,’ said Patch, nodding vigorously. ‘I bet they all set themselves up in some luxury home somewhere. Coldhardt probably helped ’em invest the cash so they could live off the interest.’

‘Yeah, that sounds like a nice, likely happy ever after,’ said Jonah, making no attempt to hide the sarcasm in his voice. ‘Does he send them Christmas cards each year too?’

‘Aw, who cares what happened in the past?’ Motti argued. ‘Right now, it’s the present – and life is sweet. Gotta enjoy it while you can.’

Jonah was about to argue that history often repeats itself, but he bit his tongue. He was trying to fit in here, not piss everyone off. From the worried look on Patch’s face, he had already put a dampener on things. Why
did
he spend so long looking on the black side? He thought of the losers and no-hopes he’d been stuck with inside, what they would be doing in the YOI right now. And then he looked again at the clear blue pool, the pristine gardens, Tye in her swimsuit …

Maybe Motti had the right idea.

‘Come on, Patch,’ he said. ‘Race you six lengths in the pool.’

‘I’ll slaughter ya!’ Patch beamed and launched himself into the pool, splashing Tye. She splashed him back, kicking up her legs at him.

‘Mind your arm, Tye!’ Jonah called.

‘It’s cool, I’ll stop ’em fighting,’ Motti announced. ‘Incoming!’ He cannonballed into the water, creating a miniature tidal wave. The three of them squealed and shouted. The water churned like it was full of piranhas.

Jonah grinned and jumped in beside Tye, joining her in her splash-struggle against Patch and Motti. Their laughter and splutters echoed around the silent courtyard under the sun.

And even through the taste of chlorine, Jonah found that life had never tasted so sweet.

It was the next afternoon before he saw Coldhardt again.

Jonah found the time passed quickly, enjoying his new-found social life. He’d had a good workout with Con in the gym. Not only did she look great in a leotard, but she was a good and patient teacher. She really made you feel you could do it – Jonah came away from the two-hour session with a couple of quite slick moves under his belt.

He’d wanted to say to her, ‘I’m so sorry about your parents.’ But even in his head, the words sounded hollow, beyond inadequate. He’d never known a proper mum and dad, but to have had them and then
lose them both …

Jonah wondered how much money it must take before Con felt better.

After a sauna and shower he was ready to chill with Motti and Patch in the castello’s hangout. They held a pinball tournament, which Tye crashed for a while, until she’d soundly trounced all three of them. Then he and Motti joined Con in sampling some of the local wines, bluffing that he could taste the differences between them. It didn’t really matter – they all tasted good with the fantastic pizza Coldhardt had ordered in from the local trattoria. He slept well that night – no sleeping pills required.

For most of the day he’d been net-surfing in his room. He’d scoured a dozen sites and hacked into a few more trying to learn more about early Greek and Spartan ciphers, but had learned little he didn’t already know. And as his mind wandered, he found himself imagining who might have stayed in this beautiful room before him, and what had happened to make them leave.

Give it a rest
, he told himself. What was the use of obsessing over it?

The doorbell roused him from his thoughts, and he pounced on the distraction. It was Con, soberly dressed in black trousers and a high-necked top.

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