The Gauguin Connection Page 21

  I walked out of my bedroom and was met with the wonderful aromas of coffee and caramelised onions. Vinnie was cooking.

  “Good afternoon, sleeping beauty.” Vinnie placed a heavenly mug of coffee on the counter and I grabbed it. He also placed a plate with oatmeal cookies on the counter.

  “Vinnie, if there is ever only one reason why I am happy that you live here, it is for the coffee that always awaits me when I wake up. How do you know when to start making it?” I brought the mug up to my face and inhaled the strong aroma. I took a careful sip of the hot brew.

  “You’re a rather loud shower diva, Jen-girl.”

  “A what?”

  Vinnie turned away from the food cooking on the stove. He was able to mask the smile on his mouth, but he didn’t have control over the muscles of his eyes. They cause laughter lines to deepen. “You sing really loudly, and I must say not too badly, when you shower. That is enough warning for me to get busy in the kitchen. You’re also quite easy to time. You spend ten minutes in the shower, ten doing whatever you’re doing before the hairdryer comes on and you’re out of your bedroom ten minutes after that. All in all, I have about thirty minutes to get myself going and your coffee ready.”

  I stopped drinking my coffee and stared at Vinnie. “I’m that precise?”

  “I don’t know if you should sound so proud about this, Jen-girl.” He turned back to whatever was cooking in the pots, picked up a wooden spoon and stirred the contents of the larger pot. “But you certainly are scheduled. Nothing wrong with it, of course.”

  “Of course.” If it hadn’t been for Vinnie’s non-caring shrug, I knew that I would’ve felt the same tightness in my chest as when my parents always condemned my peculiarities. With Vinnie there was no censure, only fresh coffee. I realised that in the week that Vinnie had been staying with me we never talked about anything other than the case. I suddenly wanted to know more about the gentle giant who so unobtrusively was sharing my space. Leaning against the kitchen counter, I tried to come up with a conversation starter but came up empty.

  So many years of studying psychology and writing papers on human interaction had done nothing for my own skills. I realised that I was sorely lacking in the skill to make friends. A skill that came natural for the vast majority of people. Staring at Vinnie’s muscular back I decided that I could worry about this gap in my skill-set at a later stage. There were more pressing matters to attend to.

  “Did Phillip bring my computers?”

  “Yup. He came about an hour ago. They’re on the dining room table.”

  “Were you rude to him?”

  Vinnie glanced over his shoulder at me with a wide grin. “He’s not the one I have a problem with. It’s that filthy fed that grinds my gears.”

  “He grinds your gears? Does that mean he irritates you?”

  Vinnie snorted. “To put it mildly. The guy irritates the hell outta me.”

  “Manny? What’s your problem with him?” I walked to the dining room table and placed the plate of cookies at a safe distance from my computers for a later snack. The computers I arranged for optimum usefulness with the notepad in the centre. The way I liked it. When Vinnie didn’t answer me, I looked up to see him watching me. “What?”

  “You’re amazing, Jen-girl. The way you know exactly how things should be.” The wistful look on his face matched the tone of his voice. Before I could tell him that I was only using logic to streamline everything, including the placing of my computers, he shook his head. “Never mind that. Millard is just a big bad wolf trying to intimidate anyone he can.”

  “I actually think that he is very intelligent but prefers to hide it. That way he gets a lot more out of people.”

  “Whatever.” Clearly Vinnie did not agree with me. He returned to his cooking. “You do your thing over there, Jen-girl. Dinner will be ready in an hour.”

  It didn’t take long for me to get lost in the new information waiting for me on the EDA server. Manny had kept his word and I had the full financials of the charity foundation for the last ten years waiting for me. There was also an email from Manny. He sarcastically asked me whether I would please lower myself from up high and take a deeper look at the weapons theft file. Why he was angry with me about that, I had no idea. I snarled at his email and wondered if his anger stemmed from his Chief pressuring him. It still gave him no right to be sarcastic.

  “Don’t kill it, Jen-girl.” Vinnie’s voice next to me made me jump.

  “Huh?”

  “You’re looking at that computer as if you plan to kill it. Slowly.”

  “It’s Manny.”

  “Aha.” A wealth of understanding was communicated with those two syllables. He pulled out the chair next to me, moved it farther away to give me more space and sat down. “What’s he done now?”

  “He’s angry with me about his,” I strongly emphasised the possessive pronoun, “lack of progress on the inquiry into the weapons theft. It’s not even his inquiry. The case belongs to Leon. He should be angry with Leon.”

  “So what does he expect you to do?”

  “Find out who stole the weapons, I suppose.” I sighed at Manny’s irrational demand.

  “Jen-girl?” He waited until I looked at him. “I... uh... know this dude who knows a lot about weapons.”

  “An illegal arms dealer?”

  “That is one way to describe him.” Vinnie looked decidedly uncomfortable. “Anyway, I could ask him if he knows something about these weapons. But that means you’ll have to give me everything you know about these weapons.”

  “I’m not so sure that’s a good idea.” Manny’s sarcasm would increase exponentially if he found out.

  “I promise it will never come back to you. I’ve been doing this for a while and know how to get information. Trust me with this. I’ll get you info.”

  I took a deep breath and held it while I analysed the pros and cons of taking this action. The cons mostly revolved around Manny’s wrath, but also included the fact that such highly confidential information would be put out into the criminal sphere. I exhaled, took another deep breath and thought that on the other hand those weapons were already in the criminal sphere. It led me to a few more pros and I exhaled with a puff of air.

  “Will you be careful with how you share this information?”

  “Like I said, it will never come back to you.”

  “Okay.”

  “Email me the list of the weapons. It has all the specs, right?”

  “Yes.” I emailed him the list from my computer, not wanting Manny to know that I was sharing anything with Vinnie. Had I emailed it from the EDA computer or even my work computer, all those cons were going to rain down on me like a hailstorm. I had no illusions that Manny was now keeping an even closer eye on my activities. He would find out about this, I had no doubt, but I would prefer it to be later rather than sooner. After Vinnie had spoken to the guy he knew. “There. It should be in your inbox.”

  “I’ll get on that now.” He got up. “Oh yes, Colin phoned. He’ll be here later. Is it okay for us to wait with dinner until he comes? Then we can all eat together.”

  “No problem.” I would just make myself another coffee to keep my energy up until dinner. I also had the plate of cookies Vinnie always seemed to keep in stock. He disappeared to his room to contact his criminal cohorts. I was not going to allow myself to once again think and worry about the gray areas these people moved in. Then I would have to think how my association with these guys kept pushing me deeper into these gray areas.

  I needed to get my mind off this and it wasn’t difficult. I decided to take another look at the Foundation’s financials, more specifically the previous year’s grants. Eighteen million euro from the EU was a significant amount and I needed to understand how one charitable organisation could receive so much.

  No matter how I looked at it, the Foundation for Development of Sustainable Education came by their money in a legal manner. It was all above board. But it couldn’t be righ
t. I checked their income. All legal donations, including the donations from the shipping companies. The donations were technically legal even if the money had come from auctioning off forged artefacts on a ship in no man’s land where the enforcement of laws was dubious at best. If it weren’t the donations, the income, it had to be their expenditure.

  Their financials had been audited by an EU appointed forensic accounting team, so I didn’t spend too much time looking for the misplacement of funds. Instead, I looked for patterns. Some people said that the devil was in the details. I always found the devil in patterns.

  First, I looked at their activities to get an overall perspective. Despite my suspicions of this charity organisation, I was impressed. In the last decade they had built homes, had sent numerous youths to university, started a music centre, opened thirteen food distribution centres and much more. Every project involved several participants, all seemingly well organised and efficient. I moved to the numbers.

  I looked at the amounts spent, the projects the money was spent on, the companies subcontracted to complete the work for these projects. Nothing was amiss. It was all above reproach. But the pattern was there, I knew it was there. It was as if my brain had recognised it, processed it and now relaxed with that knowledge. I just needed that insight to move from my unconscious mind to my conscious mind. That would lead me to the next clue which would lead me to the next clue and so on. I walked to my sound system and programmed it to play Mozart’s Horn Concerto No. 3.

  Seated again at my computers, I stared at the monitors while allowing the music to weave its magic over and through me. Nothing. I closed my eyes and stilled my mind. Nothing. It was there, I knew it was there. I crossed my arms tightly around my torso and focussed solely on the music. That was the only way my unconscious and conscious minds would connect. With Mozart.

  “Jenny?” A familiar, safe voice kept calling me, pulling me back into reality. For a short while I resisted it, but he would not desist. “Jenny, come back to us.”

  I opened my eyes to find Colin sitting next to me, his warm hand resting gently on my arms. Both arms were still tightly wound around my torso and I realised that I was rocking. I stopped, rather surprised that I had been doing that. “How long have I been rocking like this?”

  “Vinnie says you’ve been like this for about two hours.”

  “Oh.” Damn. I was only going to give my brain a short reprieve. Seemingly it needed more time. But I realised it was time well spent as connections started flooding my consciousness. “Oh!”

  “What?” Colin jerked at my sudden exclamation.

  I looked at his hand still resting on my arms and then up at his face. “You’re here.”

  “Yes, I am.”

  I shook off his hand and turned to my computers. “I will tell you later how angry I am with you, how worried I was and how happy I am to see you now. But it will have to wait.” My hands were moving from one computer to the other and back while I was talking absently. I registered what I had said when Vinnie huffed his amusement from the kitchen. My fingers froze above the keys for a second, but I shook off the embarrassment that I had admitted to my emotions. The revelations coming with each file I was opening took precedence over my tight hold on all emotions.

  The more files I opened, the more I was proving myself right. “It is so obvious. So very, very obvious. Why do people ever think that it won’t be obvious?”

  “What is so obvious?” Colin made himself comfortable next to me and waited. He proved to be quite patient when it took me more than thirty minutes to get my facts straight. I had just made another list. Absently I noted that Vinnie brought him coffee and placed a fresh cup by my right hand. Colin was finishing off the last of the cookies that I had totally forgotten about.

  “It’s all the same office. It’s statistically impossible for all of them to be at the same office.” I turned to him, beaming. I could not believe how easy it actually was. My moment of glory was short-lived when Colin leaned forward and waited until I not only looked at him, but was focussed on him, not still lost inside my own head.

  “Jenny, you’re going to have to explain. I wasn’t here for your whole thought process.”

  “Oh. Of course. Sorry.” I turned back to the computers and started pointing things out. “Here is the list of all the shipping companies. Included in the information I had about them, was their company registration information. Here, on this computer I have all the information and it states the office where the company was registered. Volosovo is a smallish town eighty five kilometres from St. Petersburg.

  “Now, look at this. I was looking into the financials of the Foundation and found nothing wrong with the donations or their expenditures. For every project that they received EU funding, they had subcontracted companies to complete these projects. These companies were named when the Foundation requested payment for the different legs of their projects. Nothing hidden and all above board. Look at my new list with those companies.”

  “You made another list.”

  “I did and you will not mock me when you see what I’ve discovered. Each of these companies was also registered at the same office as the shipping companies. What is the probability of eighteen of the thirty-three shipping companies we have listed and twenty other companies, including catering, interior design, engineering and construction companies all being registered at the same office?”

  “None?” Colin moved in closer.

  “None,” I confirmed.

  “Have you put them in chronological order? I mean from the first registered company to the last?”

  “Not yet.” I realised what he was aiming at. “Oh my god! You think that if we get this in chronological order, we can find the first company.”

  “Yup.”

  Vinnie appeared in front of us with light brown oven mitts on his hands. They were most certainly not my oven mitts. I did not own oven mitts that looked like happy dogs, complete with ears flopping around. He pointed an oven mitt at the computer. “But wouldn’t that also mean that the first company registered might lead us directly to the asshole who started this?”

  My lower jaw went slack and I stared at the muscular, scarred criminal wearing happy-puppy oven mitts. “You are just like Manny!”

  The immediate anger that radiated from Vinnie made me realise that I had said something very insulting. It took me only a second to realise my latest faux pas. Colin’s loud laughter seemed to fuel Vinnie’s anger and I sighed. I was going to have to explain myself. Again. “Colin, stop laughing. Vinnie, I’m sorry. I know you despise Manny. What I meant was that just like Manny you hide your true intellect and insights. Knowing that people will underestimate you gives you an advantage. It is an excellent mechanism to get more from people than they would generally be willing to give. I’m the complete opposite. The moment I open my mouth, people give me less. Usually they just avoid me.”

  “Aw, Jen-girl. You’re not that bad. Maybe you are a little bit blunt, but I like it. I just don’t like being associated with Millard.”

  “Understood.” I shuddered. Talking to people required so much forethought. “I just want to clarify that I was actually paying you a compliment. Not many people would’ve followed that path of reasoning to the person who might be behind all this.”

  “Why, thank you, ma’am.” He looked uncomfortable with the compliment. His eyes moved around looking for something. Most likely a change of topic. “Dinner is ready. Do you guys want to eat now or later?”

  The moment Vinnie mentioned food, my stomach rumbled and I realised how hungry I was. “Now is good.”

  “What about your lists?” Colin nodded to the computers.

  “I don’t have all the companies’ registration information. I would need to look into each company associated with the Foundation. I would also need their registration office and the date of registration to confirm the connection. Then I can put them in chronological order.”

  “Can you access that info?” Colin as
ked.

  “I doubt it. At least not for all the companies, unless their information is publicly available on the internet.”

  “You never try alternative ways of accessing info?” Colin asked.

  I gasped. Horrified. “I never do anything illegal on my computers. All the data I retrieve are on public sites. If people only knew how much information is publicly available. You just need to know where to look.” I got up and walked to the kitchen. Colin followed me. Vinnie had dished up something that smelled heavenly. There were three trays on the kitchen counter, each with a plate of food, a glass of wine and cutlery resting on a folded red serviette. It looked like we were going to eat in the living area.

  “And you know where to look.” Colin took his tray and walked with me to the living area.

  “I’ve been doing this for long enough to know where to look for corporate information. If that fails, there are always social networking sites, online job hunting sites where people post their lives in the form of résumés, and let’s not forget about companies advertising their services. A lot can be learned from that as well.”

  Vinnie picked up his tray and joined us. I marvelled at the gnocchi on the tray on my lap. It looked and smelled more appetizing than a similar dish I had had in a Michelin recommended restaurant.

  “So, what do you do when you run out of publicly available information?” Colin asked as he lifted the fork to his mouth. I thought we were done with the conversation. Apparently not.

  “That has not yet happened.” My fork fell onto my plate with a loud noise as a realisation hit me. “It has happened.”

  Both men looked up and waited for me to continue. I didn’t, not until Colin asked, “When?”

  “This week. With Danielle. I haven’t exactly asked for your help, but have used it. Oh my god.” I covered my face with both hands. There was no doubt in my mind. I was going to have to draw up a new list of guidelines for myself. Guidelines that would unblur the lines that used to clarify my strict moral and ethical codes. Working with these two men had brought into question those unyielding lines.

  “Jenny, stop arguing with yourself. Nothing would be done tonight in any case. Maybe I shouldn’t have asked you. I should just surprise you with the info.” Colin lifted his hand to stop my response. He pointed at my plate with his knife. “Leave it for later. Eat. You’re missing out on Vinnie’s great gnocchi.”

  My stomach rumbled again. Later tonight I would work on new guidelines. I had no idea if I could rationalise the illegal gaining of information. With the mouth-watering aroma wafting up from my plate, I decided that physical needs took precedence. I had to eat.

  “So,” Colin said after a few minutes of silence, “Vinnie told me everything that happened at the station.”

  “Everything?”

  “Everything I know, Jen-girl.”

  “Did he tell you that I didn’t speak to anyone?”

  Colin smiled. “He did. Was it difficult?”

  “Not really. Nobody came into the room once they put me there.”

  “But you were treated right?”

  “I don’t know the protocol for treatment when in an interrogation room, so I can’t answer that. I was left in a locked room for five hours. I was fine. What were you doing while I was held at the police station? No wait, first tell me about Crenshaw’s house.”

  “Nothing to tell, really. Everything happened like I told you. I watched the house the whole day. No one went in and no one came out. By the time I went in, the house had been dark since nightfall. It was obvious no one was home.”

  “Which means that he was killed in the dark?”

  “Must be. The drapes were closed, so the neighbours wouldn’t have seen muzzle flashes even if they were looking at the house.”

  “And no one heard anything.”

  “I most certainly didn’t. As soon as I got in the house, I was suspicious. I first went into his office to find some clues and get out as soon as I could. That’s when I found the safe. I got in, saw what was in there and took everything. It turned out that only the flash drives might be of use. There were five identical-looking flash drives. All the documents were just personal stuff of no particular interest. I had just finished sorting through this when I started smelling it.”

  “What?”

  “The blood. I was so focussed on listening for anyone coming in and at the same time getting something out of the safe that I never paid attention to my nose.”

  “His nose is legendary,” Vinnie said. “He will smell a painting and tell you what mix was used.”

  “It’s not a mix, Vin.” Colin closed his eyes for a second. A shudder shook his shoulders. He must have remembered what he had seen. When he opened his eyes, they looked haunted. “There was so much blood. Crenshaw was lying at an awkward angle and it was very obvious that he was dead. The wooden coffee table was overturned and that is when I got suspicious. Well, more suspicious.”

  “About the coffee table?” I asked.

  “Yes. It is one of those low, long tables. Not easy to topple over. It would rather move across the floor if someone bumps into it. So, I reckon that someone must have picked it up and laid it on its side to make it look like there had been a struggle. Also, the sofa cushions were messed with. If the struggle was violent enough to have the cushions displaced, surely the sofa itself would’ve moved from its original position. It had not.”

  “That sounds like someone was looking for something rather than setting up a crime scene.” Vinnie seemed captivated by this.

  “If they had lifted all the cushions, yes. But only a few were displaced. Vin, I’ve seen your aunt’s living room after you and your cousins had a wrestling match in there. This looked nothing like that. It looked too neat, too arranged. And the whiskey glass that was so conveniently on the side table? I’m no crime scene investigator, but I know when something looks off. I still can’t place my finger on exactly what was wrong, but I didn’t have more time to look around.”

  “Because the police arrived?”

  “Yup. That was another suspicious thing. If I didn’t even know something was amiss in the house, how did the police know to come? I had been watching the house the whole day.” He took a sip of his wine. “Soon as I heard the sirens, I made my way outside, but decided to watch.”

  “You stayed there?” Was this man totally insane?

  “Not at the house, no. I was watching them from the balcony of a neighbour’s house. I would really like to know how the police knew to bring their crime scene guys. They stopped their van five minutes after the patrol cars arrived and cleared the house. From the time I left until the first crime scene investigator walked into the house all suited up was a total of fifteen minutes.” Colin and Vinnie looked at each other with an understanding I didn’t share.

  “Dude, that’s just wrong.”

  “Why?” What did they know that I didn’t?

  “Jenny, the police simply are not that well organised. Their response time is a hit and miss. Sometimes it takes them three minutes, sometimes fifteen minutes to act on a call. If there is a call for the forensic guys, it could take hours to get those guys to leave their labs, get their vans ready to roll. It’s only with high profile cases that they act that fast.”

  “But Crenshaw is... was high profile.”

  “True. But I still want to know how the police knew to be there in full force.”

  “So that must be why they got my fingerprints so quickly.”

  “And why is it that your fingerprints are on file?”

  “I work for an international insurance company. I deal daily with fraud cases. I never really asked Phillip why it was important, but they wanted my prints on file and I didn’t have a reason to say no.”

  Colin stared at me incredulously for almost a minute. “Okay, I’m not going to touch this one. So, after watching the police for a while, it was a bit tricky to get out of the area. By the time I wanted to leave, they were everywhere.”

  “A
nd you couldn’t get out?”

  “Of course I could get out.” He looked insulted at my sincere question. “It just took me a little longer. The moment it was okay for me to phone, I called you. And the rest you know.”

  “No, I don’t. You haven’t told me where you’ve been the whole day.”

  A cluster of expressions fluttered across his face. “You’re not going to like this.”

  “Colin, I can see on your face that you don’t want to tell me. Get past that and tell me.”

  He hesitated. The internal conflict was as clear as neon signs on his face. “You have to know that I really did try to do this myself, but it’s too sophisticated for my skills. It took me hours, but I got nowhere, so–”

  “Just tell her, dude.” Vinnie groaned in annoyance.

  “I met with Francine.”

  “Francine? Your friend who found Danielle?”

  “Yes. She’s going to help me,” he cleared his throat, “help us with the code.”

  “What code?” I placed my tray with the empty plate and wine glass on the coffee table. Leaning towards Colin, I placed my hands on my thighs. “Stop talking in circles and tell me what you’re so blunderingly trying to avoid.”

  Colin stood. “I’d rather just show you. Let’s go to the computers.”

 

  Chapter TWENTY-TWO