The Gauguin Connection Read online

  “How long have you been working for me?”

  “Six years.”

  “Have I ever demanded anything from you?”

  “All the time.”

  Phillip’s eyebrows lifted and then formed a frown in a silent question.

  “The positioning of your feet demands that I hurry up and finish when you’re in a rush and I’m explaining something. Your inner and outer frontalis, your orbicularis oculi–”

  “My what?”

  “The muscles on your forehead and around your eyes demand that I explain more, that I stop talking, that I–”

  “You’ve made your point, Genevieve.” Phillip ignored Manny’s snort behind him and he pinched the bridge of his nose. “What I meant was, have I ever demanded you to do any kind of work, any specific work here?”

  “No.”

  “You’ve given her carte blanche?” Manny moved away from the table he was leaning against and stood next to Phillip. He glared at both of us.

  “I told you that I trust her.” He turned his narrowed eyes to me again. “Do you think I would ask you to do something that would put your life in danger?”

  I took a moment to seriously consider this. When I looked up to answer, Phillip looked offended for some reason. “No.”

  “You had to think about this?”

  “Of course. Why would I give you an answer if I am not sure of the truthfulness of it?”

  “We’re digressing.” Phillip put his hands on his hips. “I’ve never demanded anything from you, giving you the freedom to do things your way. You’ve proved yourself over and over to be very responsible with that freedom. So much so that I am now reluctant to be this insistent, but I do insist.”

  “Okay.”

  “Really, Genevi–” Phillip’s argument broke off and he tilted his head to one side. “I beg your pardon?”

  “She said okay.”

  “Why?” Phillip ignored Manny’s amused comment.

  “It’s an interesting case. A challenge.” I looked at Manny. “I have quite a few conditions, though.”

  “No. Really?” Manny sounded disbelieving.

  “Yes, really. Why would I say this, if it’s not real?”

  “He was being sarcastic.” Phillip glanced at Manny. “She doesn’t get sarcasm or jokes. What are your conditions, Genevieve?”

  “I need full access to all the files.”

  Manny started shaking his head even before he spoke. “You can’t have full access to the files.”

  “Then I can’t help you.”

  “You don’t understand. To view these files you need to have a very high security clearance.”

  “So get it for me.”

  “It’s not that easy. Ask me what you would like to know and I will give you as much as possible.”

  It was simply not an acceptable option, but I knew that I would have to prove it to this stubborn EDA man. “How many weapons were stolen?”

  “So far the count has reached eight hundred and thirty-seven.”

  My eyebrows lifted and Phillip whistled softly.

  “Were there any unique, out of the ordinary weapons taken?”

  Manny looked very unhappy being on the receiving end of so many questions. “About three hundred SIG 226 nine millimetre pistols were taken.”

  “What exactly are those?” I was going to have to learn more, much more, about weapons.

  “It’s a service pistol very popular with special forces in many countries from the US army to Polish Special Forces to a counter-terrorist unit in Greece.”

  “How many of the total guns taken were handguns?”

  “I don’t have the exact numbers on me right now. The weapons stored at headquarters are mostly light weapons. The majority of those stolen would be handguns, I suppose.”

  “You suppose?” I infused a healthy amount of annoyance into my voice. “How many of those are assault rifles? How many sniper rifles? If there were sniper rifles stolen, when were they stolen? In the beginning, the middle or were they the last to disappear? These rifles, are there many people who would be able to effectively put them to use?”

  “Genevieve,” warned Phillip.

  “Oh, but I’m not done with my questions. If most of the weapons were handguns, was there a specific gun favoured? Or were most the SIG’s? Are these guns popular with certain groups like gangs or more organised groups? Once I have some of these answers I would need to check into lists of names associated with these guns and groups. Then I would have to compile a list of artefacts being stolen in areas targeted by these– ”

  “Stop.” Manny lifted his hands in a gesture both of surrender and resistance. “We’ve already had our best guys look into some of these questions.”

  “But they didn’t get anywhere?”

  “No, they didn’t get very far.”

  “Since you don’t trust them to look into it any further and come up with unbiased information, not influenced or corrupted by those you suspect, you’d do a lot better giving me access.”

  Manny closed his eyes and shook his head, undoubtedly waging another internal war.

  “Maybe Genevieve can tell you a little more about how she does things here. To set your mind at ease.” Phillip looked pointedly at all the monitors and equipment he had installed for me without questioning a single request. The room was completely soundproofed, not allowing the top of the range sound system to reach beyond the room. Against the wall facing me were ten of the highest definition monitors on the market, arranged in an almost semi-circle for easier viewing.

  Usually I had at least six of the large monitors running at the same time, each isolating a certain feature of the person being read. I liked having the other monitors available in case I needed to bring up another clip for comparison or have a document open for viewing. Now they were all dark.

  In front of these monitors was a long wooden table running the length of the wall with three keyboards, three carefully placed notepads and three pencils neatly aligned to the notepads. Three antique-looking filing cabinets covered one wall and carefully chosen paintings decorated the remaining space. I was fully aware that anyone looking at my workspace would be able to see my need for organised surroundings. One might even go as far as wondering if I suffered from obsessive compulsive behaviour. I knew that I was only a few obsessions short of OCB and was thankful that I had missed out on that particular oddity. As it was, I had enough to deal with, including the two men in my viewing room.

  The last thing I wanted to do at that moment was explain to Manny the complex process of reading someone’s non-verbal cues. Or how I went about looking for patterns in seemingly innocuous data. Everything in me rebelled against Phillip’s suggestion. But the knowledge of how important a high profile case like this was to him held me in check.

  “She can show me another time.” Manny broke the silence and turned to me. “I’ll give you a copy of all the files that Phillip and I went through earlier.”

  A small shiver ran down my back with the memory of the photo of the dead girl in one of the folders. I stiffened my spine and strengthened my resolve. There had been many difficult situations in my life that I never thought I would overcome. This was going to be an opportunity for me to prove to myself that I could cope with a challenge as dark as this one. “What about the rest?”

  “The rest?”

  “You know very well that those files alone would not suffice. I will need more.”

  “I have an EDA computer in my car. I’ll give you a password and make sure that the IT guys set it up for you to have enough access to EDA files.”

  “What do you mean ‘enough’?” My question caused a deep frown between Manny’s eyes.

  Phillip jumped in quickly before Manny or I could say anything else. “Why don’t we start with the files and the computer? Manny, you can give Genevieve enough access for her to start. Genevieve, when you find that you need more information than what is available, we can revisit this issue.”

&n
bsp; “Agreed.” That sounded like a logical solution. “Where would you like me to start?”

  “I’m familiar with the weapons theft, so I’ll continue working on that.”

  “On your own?”

  “No. I’m co-operating with Leon. There are also still a few people I know I can trust. Together we will look into the theft. For now I would like for you to focus on the artefact. I really want to know why it was so important that a girl got killed over it. But more than that, I would truly like to know what the connection is between the girl, the artefact, the Russian killer and the Eurocorps weapons. I hope that if we find the connection between them, it will point us to the insiders.”

  “And I would like to know why our client didn’t report that piece missing.” Phillip sounded really perturbed about this.

  “Bring me the files and the computer and I’ll have something for you by–” I closed my eyes to access the calendar in my head. “Today is Tuesday. I’ll have something for you by the end of the week.”

  “If you have anything earlier–”

  “We’ll immediately let you know,” finished Phillip. “How are we going to work out the agreement between our two entities?”

  “Between the EDA and you guys? The Head doesn’t want Rousseau & Rousseau to be officially connected to anything.”

  “I don’t know if I can agree to that.”

  “Phillip, this is more than just business. This is about catching someone who is abusing his position of power. The Head and Leon have both assured me that once we’ve concluded this, Rousseau & Rousseau will be on the receiving end of a lot of business from the EDA and, with Leon’s influence, Eurocorps.”

  “You think I can get that in ink?” Phillip sounded increasingly less impressed with the direction this discussion had taken.

  “That would make this official. It would create a paper trail.”

  “And that might alert Manny’s insider.” I almost smiled at Phillip’s displeased frown and Manny’s surprise that I agreed with them. “If we want to find the connection between all these things and Manny’s insiders, and catch them, it makes perfect sense to not announce our co-operation.”

  “They are not my insiders.”

  “They’re working for your agencies and, for all we know, working directly under you. Of course they’re yours.”

  “I’m not going to get into this.” He shook his head and turned to Phillip. “The Head is as good as her word, Phillip. In the time that she’s taken over, she’s kept every single promise she’s made.”

  “I suppose that will have to be good enough for me. For now.”

  “Good. Now, if you give me a few minutes, I’ll go get that computer.”

  Phillip called for an assistant to accompany Manny through all the security doors in and out of our offices.

  “He’s really one of the good guys.” Phillip rested his hip against the long table once we were alone in the viewing room. It took all my self-control to not physically remove him from invading my space like that. Instead I took a deep breath, reminding myself that he too would leave soon and my viewing room would be my own again.

  “It’s evident.”

  “You were reading him?”

  I just looked at Phillip. After all this time, he should have known that I read everyone.

  “What did you see?”

  “He’s sincere. He believes in what he does.”

  “That would be Manny’s essence.” His eyes lost focus as if he were viewing a past event in his mind’s eye. “I remember a time when we were both young and full of dreams. I used to tell him that one day he would become a superhero.”

  “Superheroes don’t exist. It’s not possible for him to ever become one.”

  Phillip’s expression sobered and he gave me a quick smile. “Indeed that is true. So Manny became the next best thing.”

  “The Deputy Chief Executive of Strategy at the EDA?”

  “Someone fighting for what is right.”

  “How does that make it the next best thing to being a superhero?”

  Phillip looked relieved when there was a knock at the door before it whooshed open and Manny came through carrying a black leather case.

  “Phillip, can I have a moment alone with Miss Lenard?”

  “Of course. I have a few phone calls to make.” Phillip gave a slight nod and left me with Manny.

  “Well.” He moved around the viewing room trying to look comfortable, but his entire body very loudly communicated his discomfort. He lifted his hand to presumably run it over the artful workmanship of the filing cabinets.

  “Please don’t touch that.” I hated when people were in my space. They always wanted to touch my things and then I had to clean their oily fingerprints off it.

  Manny withdrew his hand and turned to me. “Phillip trusts you. He knows you. I don’t. I don’t know anything about this thing that you have.”

  “What thing?”

  “Your ...” he waved his hand towards me and then let it drop limply next to him, “autism.”

  “I was never really diagnosed with autism. People just like to label me that way so that I make more sense to them.”

  “What were you diagnosed as?”

  “Many things.” I was not going to tell him all the tests and psychological probing I had gone through. “You can also choose to believe that I have high functioning autism.”

  Manny looked intrigued and moved closer to me. “You don’t believe that you have high functioning autism?”

  “It doesn’t matter what I believe.”

  “To me it does. If we are going to work together, I need to know who it is that I’m trusting.”

  “I appreciate that you need to know this, but I’m not going to become your best friend, Colonel Millard. Working together on this case really only requires your trust in my skills and my discretion. Both of which you will have full access to.”

  Manny studied me for a long time. I didn’t flinch. “You are a very strange individual, Miss Lenard.”

  “So I have been told.”

  “Just one more question.” He swallowed his discomfort. “Do I need to be careful what I say or do in case you, you know, go all weird again?”

  “Go all weird?” If I wasn’t still shaken by the uncharacteristic lapse of my control, I would’ve smiled. “I can guarantee you it won’t happen again. And you don’t have to tip-toe around me. I’m much less delicate that most people think.”

  The corner of Manny’s mouth quirked into an almost-smile. He reached into the black leather case and took out a black laptop.

  “Okay, then. This is the EDA computer I told you about. I don’t know what the IT guys did to it, but they claim it is unhackable.” He opened the laptop and waited for it to boot up. It took him ten minutes to take me through all the passwords. It took me only once to memorise both twenty-six digit passwords. I was impressed with the layered security on the computer and told Manny so.

  “Yes, my guys are some of the best. You will have access to much of our database and all the files on this case. We update these files every day as new information comes in, so make sure that you check it. Please take all precautions with this computer.”

  I ignored the insulting warning, but Manny obviously wasn’t going to let it go.

  “Miss Lenard–”

  “Enough with the miss. Call me Doctor Lenard or Genevieve.”

  “Okay.” He drew out the word as if unsure which option to choose in case it was the wrong one. “Doc, it is really important that no one else has access to this computer. You can’t allow anyone else to work on it or leave it unattended at any time.”

  “Colonel Millard, please don’t insult my intelligence by giving me this lecture. I fully comprehend the significance of being in possession of this computer.”

  “Good. Fine. Okay.”

  I waited for him to continue. He didn’t. His blinking increased, indicating discomfort or a stressful thought process. Maybe both. The third tim
e he swallowed heavily, I lost my patience. “Oh, for goodness’ sake, just say it.”

  His lips thinned. “This is sensitive information.”

  “We’ve already established that.”

  “Well, yes.” He took a bracing breath. “This might not be of relevance, but the murderer said something before he shot himself. Actually, he shouted it. He was speaking broken French with a strong accent, so the officers were not sure of everything they heard. The autopsy showed traces of an antipsychotic drug. It would seem that he was being treated for schizophrenia, but had gone off his meds for some time. This might just be a lunatic’s rantings.”

  “Get to the point.”

  “According to the officers he shouted, ‘The red will end all twenty-seven daffodils, we will just have to sit back and watch. No one will escape the red who is all powerful’.”

  “You’re right, it sounds like the rantings of an insane man,” I said. ‘Or it could be a very bad translation.”

  “I’m repeating it word for word, just like the officers noted it down. They agreed that this is exactly what he said. He shouted it over and over before he killed himself.”

  “No need to get defensive, Colonel Millard.”

  He sighed. “I’m in a position I don’t like to be in, working with people I don’t know, so forgive me if I’m a bit out of sorts.”

  He did not sound or look repentant at all. But he did look stressed. I relented. “I’ll think about these rantings and see if I can find some meaning in it. Maybe ‘red’ is a euphemism or a codeword for something. ‘Twenty-seven’ might also have a different meaning as might ‘daffodils’. He could’ve used the word order of his native tongue, which could change all the words around.”

  “Those are a lot of maybes.”

  “Applicable to three very incoherent sentences.” I leaned back in my chair. “Is there anything else?”

  “Yes. Call me Manny.” He turned and walked to the door, twice looking back at the laptop lying open on my table. “We’ll be in touch then.”

  “Goodbye, Manny.” I watched him heave another sigh before he left and wondered what he was going to say to Phillip. There was, however, no point in speculating about his issues and complaints now. The challenge was much too alluring to waste time and energy on Manny’s ill-placed worries. Already I had a few ideas how to approach the quest for a connection between the strip of a valuable painting and the Russian murderer. I turned towards the laptop and typed a few words into the search engine.

 

  Chapter THREE