The Roubaud Connection Read online

  “With the exception of the cops dressed like cops, everyone else in here is either a hipster, a student or a worker on a quick break. Those three are wearing black suits, their hairstyles are definitely not from France and they look way too alert and interested in other people.”

  “I need to see them.”

  “Hmm.” Colin frowned. “Move your chair closer to Caelan. That will put you behind the pillar and you will be able to observe them without them noticing.”

  I didn’t even try to be covert. I moved my chair and ignored the increased tension at being this close to Caelan. I needed to see these people.

  Colin reached across and put his palm flat on the table in front of Caelan. “I know you’re worried, but Vin is going to get Daniel and Manny to come and help us.”

  “Who are they?” I leaned back and searched the area Colin had indicated. There, against the back wall, sat three men at a table as small as Caelan’s. They did indeed look out of place with their military-neat hairstyles. They were shockingly unsuccessful in their attempts to manipulate their nonverbal cues into appearing relaxed. All of their feet were flat on the ground, their legs not trapped under the table, enabling them to move at a moment’s notice. Their gazes roved over the café the entire time.

  “I don’t know who they are.” Caelan squeezed his stress balls, then stopped rocking. “But I saw them on the app.”

  “Explain that, please.” Colin’s tone was calm, his body language communicating that he was having a relaxed conversation with a friend.

  “I was at home.” Caelan nodded towards the officers. “They were sitting outside my apartment and I was safe. And bored. So I went to the app to see what was happening. Everyone was talking about the cops taking them to safety.”

  “How did you see that?” Colin asked. “Do you have some kind of social networking place online?”

  “Kind of. It’s an app within the app. It’s not as good as Facebook or Instagram, but it’s better for us. We don’t see stupid news or ads. We just chat there and we upload photos of our cache hunts, parties, dinners and other things. It’s really—”

  “The men.” I could see that he was losing focus. “Tell us how you recognised the men.”

  “Oh, yes.” He breathed deeply three times. “There were a lot of photos uploaded last night of the police taking people to safer places or the police sitting outside people’s flats. There’s even one where they insisted the police stayed inside. They had dinner together.”

  “The men,” I reminded him.

  “Yes. I looked at all the photos, then realised there was a stranger in two of the photos. Two photos in different places and uploaded by different members. They both live here in Strasbourg, but I don’t think they’ve ever met. Julie is like me. She stays at home. She took a photo from her window, showing the cops sitting in their car outside her apartment building.” He swallowed and looked towards the back wall. “The big guy was standing on the corner of the street.”

  It was easy to know who he was referring to. Two of the three men were very average in build and height. The third was taller than his colleagues by at least twenty centimetres. His uncomfortable-looking slump didn’t succeed in making him look more relaxed or shorter. Instead it brought more attention to his muscular shoulders that didn’t allow him to hunch over much.

  Colin’s phone buzzed and he looked at the screen. “Vin contacted Daniel, who’s bringing Millard and the rest of the GIPN team. They’ll be here in eight minutes.”

  I blinked a few times. There were only two empty tables in the whole café. The way the men were positioning their bodies alerted me to the fact that they were very likely carrying firearms under their jackets. If there were to be a firefight in this establishment, many people could be injured. Or worse.

  “We should talk to them first.” I couldn’t believe I had just suggested such an outrageous and risky move.

  “I can phone Vin now and you can talk to him.” Colin lifted his phone.

  I shook my head. “No. I don’t want to talk to Vinnie.” On the one hand I regretted my impulsive suggestion. But the more I thought about it, the more convinced I was that this would be the best move. “You and I should go and talk to the three men.”

  Colin’s eyebrows shot up. “Seriously?”

  “Yes.”

  He sat back in his chair and looked up at the ceiling. “You know, that’s actually not such a bad idea.” He lowered his gaze to look at me. “But first study them and be very sure that they’re not going to do something stupid.”

  “Like kill you.” Caelan squeezed his stress balls. “I don’t want you to die.”

  “I don’t want to die either.” I really didn’t. Just the thought of putting myself in harm’s way like this already brought the blackness of a shutdown into my peripheral vision. I pushed Mozart’s Symphony in A minor into my mind, leaned closer to Caelan to hide more of myself behind the pillar and studied the men.

  They weren’t talking much. Just a few quietly spoken words and then they continued observing the patrons of the café. I almost smiled when it became very obvious that their interest was completely focused on our table. I knew this because ours was the only table they didn’t look at. Their studied avoidance was almost comical. It made me wonder about their training.

  The tall man lowered his eyes when he spoke to the man with the acne-scarred skin and wire-rimmed glasses. The third man leaned a bit closer to listen to the taller man, his nonverbal cues also submissive to the man with the glasses. He didn’t look at them, but it was clear that he was listening intently. When he answered, it was with the kind of authority that confirmed my impression that he was their leader.

  The other two nodded and resumed their attempt at appearing relaxed while watching everyone. A few times their eyes rested on the two officers who were now sharing a joke. Each time, their eyes narrowed, but they didn’t look concerned.

  “Well?” Colin touched my forearm.

  “They’re ready to take action if needed, but there’s no indication of aggression.”

  “Jenny?” He waited until I looked at him. “I don’t like this idea.”

  “Neither do I.” I thought back to the briefing this morning. “Manny will insist on coming in here with Daniel.”

  “And the idiot will get us all killed.” Colin nodded and pushed himself up. He held out his hand to me. “Ready?”

  “No.” Caelan started rocking. “The Amazon rainforest is home to one third of the planet’s land species. Don’t go.”

  “We’ll be okay, bud.” Colin glanced at the cops, who hadn’t even noticed us joining Caelan. “Stay right here. Vinnie and Daniel will be here soon. We’ll make sure nothing bad happens.”

  “You can’t give that guarantee.” I hated it when neurotypicals lied in their attempt to calm or, even worse, placate others.

  “I can.” Colin pulled me up, his posture confident. “You and I make an incredible team and together we will make sure this situation doesn’t escalate at all.”

  Chapter FIFTEEN

  THEY NOTICED US THE moment we stepped out from behind the pillar. The tall man straightened, his unsuccessful attempt at a slump forgotten as his eyes narrowed, watching us approach. I resisted reaching for Colin’s hand, knowing that this would create the impression of weakness. Instead I pushed Mozart’s Fugue in G minor into my mind, hoping the organ music would keep me calm for the risk we were now taking.

  The third man had a mole above his left eyebrow. It moved when his eyebrows drew together in a deep frown. He too straightened in his chair, his hand touching the bulge under his jacket as if to reassure himself his weapon was still there. The only one who didn’t react outwardly was the leader.

  Colin had his phone out and swiped the screen a few times before tilting it so I could see. He had phoned Francine, but had muted the call. She could hear us, but no sound would come from the speakers on Colin’s phone. He put his phone in the pocket of his designer shirt, the screen and ther
efore the microphone pointing away from him. He never put anything in the pockets of his shirts. He’d told me a few times that it was the habit of a pen-pusher and he was definitely not one.

  We were now two tables away from the men and I forced my mind away from the safety of thinking about metaphors used for office workers. It was imperative that I observed these men. I didn’t want to miss any micro-expression or cue that could indicate actions that could put our lives and the lives of the café’s patrons in danger.

  The table next to the three men were unoccupied and Colin walked straight there and took the two chairs. One he put close to the leader and the other closer to the tall man. The position of the chairs would place us effectively between the men and the rest of the café. We would be blocking their path. I mentally turned up the volume of the fugue.

  “Gentlemen.” Colin sat on the chair by the tall man and waved at the other chair. “Sit down, love. We’re going to have a little chat.”

  “Go away.” The tall man pulled his shoulders back, his arms moving away from his torso—all indicators of aggression. Colin reacted by stretching his legs out in front of him and crossing his feet. With this position of comfort, he’d just conveyed that he was not feeling threatened. And that he was confident. Colin was an accomplished liar.

  The leader pushed his glasses up on his nose. He first looked at me when I sat down next to him, then at Colin. He waved a dismissing hand at the tall man. “It’s okay. Let them join us. Why not?”

  The leader’s accented English was less telling than the tall man’s, but it made me take a second look at their features. All three men had dark hair, olive skin and facial structures that most commonly were associated with one area. “You’re from Iran.”

  “We’re visiting your beautiful city and enjoying the café culture everyone writes about.”

  The leader’s non-answer and body language almost brought a smile to my face. “You’re an inept liar.”

  Colin cleared his throat and I winced. I supposed it would be safer for me to keep my observations to myself. I bit down on my lips to prevent myself from saying anything that might provoke hostility. But the leader’s reaction wasn’t hostile. His smile was genuine. “We really are enjoying the beauty of your city.”

  Colin stared at him for a few seconds. After so many years with him, I could see his mind absorbing all the important information and working on the best way to approach this man. Before he could say anything, all three Iranian men’s eyes left us to look at the front of the café.

  I was sitting sideways, so only had to turn my head to see Vinnie, Daniel, Manny and the rest of the GIPN team clearing the café. With the exception of one young woman, everyone remained calm and left quickly. She left quickly, but wasn’t calm. She was clutching Pink’s arm, asking a lot of questions in a low voice. The café-type music was loud enough to mask most of the activity and her questions, but her body language plainly communicated her fear. Most of the other people appeared excited by this event. Odd.

  The third man straightened as well, no longer taking his cue from the leader. His hand drifted to his jacket’s button and he opened it, obviously getting ready to go for his holstered weapon. I focused on my breathing and paid closer attention to his micro-expressions. He seemed to be in full control, but was alert and aware of the position of every officer in the café.

  “Now that we’re alone”—Colin waved his arm at the empty café—“you can tell us why you are here.”

  The leader looked pointedly at the empty mugs and plates on their table. “To have breakfast.”

  Colin’s only reaction was to stare at him.

  Movement in the centre of the café caught my eye and I turned to see Vinnie and Daniel walking to us. Manny was standing at the door, a scowl pulling his eyebrows low over his eyes. He had his handgun out, but pointed at the floor. Pink and two more GIPN team members were in the café as well, their assault weapons ready. It was unsettling to see such readiness for violence.

  Daniel stopped behind my chair and briefly touched my shoulder with the tip of his finger. I was surprised that it comforted me.

  Vinnie took his position behind Colin’s chair and stared down at the tall man, who reacted by getting up. He pushed his jacket open to reveal his weapon, his hand ready to grab it. His nostrils flared and his mouth pulled into a vicious sneer. I leaned back in my chair, my eyes wide.

  “Shahab, stand down.” The authority behind the leader’s quietly spoken order was unmistakable. He waited until Shahab relaxed his posture, his hand moving away from his holster. When it became clear that the tall man was not going to sit down again, the leader looked at us. “We’re amongst friends.”

  “You’re not my friend.” The words came out before I thought about it. “I don’t even know your name.”

  Colin smiled and pointed at me. “What she said.”

  “Well, then.” The leader shifted and put his palm against his chest. “I’m Amin Alidoosti, the overprotective one is Shahab Hatami and—”

  “I’m Hamid Keramati,” the third man said.

  “And you all are...” Colin drew out the last word as if waiting for them to finish.

  “From the Criminal Investigation Police of NAJA.”

  “What the fuck is NAJA?” Vinnie didn’t take his eyes off Shahab, but his question was addressed to Amin.

  “It’s the Law Enforcement Force of the Islamic Republic of Iran.” Daniel smiled when all eyes turned to him. “NAJA is short for all of that.”

  The changes in the posture of the three men were small, but immediate. People always reacted positively to being acknowledged. Even Shahab’s shoulders lowered slightly and he shifted his weight to one leg, putting him in a more vulnerable position.

  “How do you know who we are?” Hamid’s curiosity was sincere, almost childlike.

  Daniel pointed at his GIPN badge on his uniform. “We make an effort to know who our counterparts are all over the world. I know you guys have top investigators and your Special Unit is huge and is also highly trained like us. Then there is your NOPO unit, which deals a lot with anti-terror action.”

  This was why Daniel was the leader of the GIPN team. He was indeed highly trained to handle conflict, but my personal opinion was that his true skill was at de-escalating a situation. The more he talked about the different branches in Iran’s law enforcement, the more the three men relaxed. Hamid’s body language had changed from ready for action to awestruck. In less than five minutes, Daniel had built notable rapport with them.

  Amin leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “I heard one of your GIPN teams deals in a lot of art crimes.”

  “We do.”

  Amin’s reaction to Daniel’s answer was telling.

  I nodded. “That’s why you’re here.”

  He glanced at me. “We received a tip that quite a few of our looted artefacts have surfaced here in Strasbourg.”

  “Hmm.” Daniel tilted his head. “And of course you’ve notified your embassy and our headquarters of your presence here.” He looked at the bulge under Shahab’s arm. “And the weapons you carry are all legally obtained.”

  “Of course.” Amin touched his neck. I was tempted to roll my eyes the way Nikki did when she considered something to be ridiculous. Evidently, Amin’s team had not been trained in deception skills.

  As I wondered if it would be appropriate to advise them to hone those skills, Colin got up. “Well then. This explains everything.” His smile was convincing in his apology and slight embarrassment as he looked at the empty café. “Sorry for the welcome.”

  I was surprised at first. Why would Colin end this conversation? We could learn so much more. A quick glance at his face, then at Daniel’s made it clear that they both had reservations about continuing.

  “It definitely was overkill.” Hamid got up and held out his hand to Daniel. “It was truly a pleasure to meet you.”

  Amin was the last to stand, his authority not undermined by his lowered p
osition at all. I remained seated. If anything happened, I planned to grab the table next to us as a shield and hide behind it.

  Amin also shook Daniel’s hand. “If you can give me your business card, we can stay in touch. Maybe you can tell us if you hear anything about Iranian artefacts.”

  “We can definitely do that.” Daniel shook Amin’s hand, then gave him a business card. “Feel free to call me anytime.”

  Amin’s micro-expressions showed that the leader of this small team had no such plans. Yet he nodded, his enthusiasm fake.

  “They won’t tell us anything, Amin.” Shahab closed his jacket, his posture no longer aggressive, but definitely defiant. “These Europeans view everyone who is Arabic as immigrant rubbish terrorists.”

  “No, we don’t.” Vinnie stepped closer to Shahab and slapped him hard on the shoulder. “Only assholes who think they can come and—”

  “Vin.” Colin pulled Vinnie away and shook his head when Vinnie frowned at him. “We’re all friends, remember?”

  “Yeah.” Vinnie nodded, his insincerity shockingly visible. “Right.” Before Colin could stop him, Vinnie walked to Amin, holding out his hand. “Friends.”

  Amin clearly didn’t know what to expect from this interaction, but shook Vinnie’s hand. He wasn’t able to hide his concerned frown when Vinnie put his hand on the leader’s shoulder and squeezed hard. This was such odd behaviour for Vinnie, I was also frowning.

  Then Amin pulled his shoulders back and stared at Vinnie’s hand still resting there. “I suggest you give us space to leave before this new friendship becomes unfriendly.”

  Vinnie raised both his hands and stepped back. “Of course, friend. Please.” He waved his hand dramatically towards the door. “Feel free to leave.”

  Shahab stared at Vinnie through narrowed eyes until Amin was a few steps away from us. He and Hamid stepped around the table and joined Amin, one on each side. Manny, Pink and the others held their positions and didn’t raise their weapons, but their muscle tension increased, their eyes following the three men.