The Netscher Connection Read online

  “And this was all livestreamed.” Francine shook her head. “It’s just...”

  “Yeah, I know,” Andor said. “And the recording? It’s as if the killer wanted us to see nobody was there. That it wasn’t a murder.”

  It was quiet around the table for a few seconds. The sound of trumpets announcing the arrival of a king broke the silence and caused me to jerk in surprise. I reached into my handbag and took my phone out. Much to my annoyance, Colin had once again changed the ringtones of my phone last week. He had set this ringtone for the wife of the president of France.

  I answered the call. “Isabelle. Why are you phoning me?”

  “Are you enjoying your holiday, Genevieve?”

  “Yes. No. I don’t think it’s a holiday anymore.”

  “Aha. So Andor has already talked to you?”

  “He’s here.” I frowned. “How do you know Andor?”

  Andor leaned forward, his eyes locked on my face. I turned away from his curiosity and faced Colin. He took my free hand.

  “I met Andor’s mother, Vera, at a conference on childhood neuropathy twelve years ago. We became friends.” Isabelle paused. “I trust her with my life, Genevieve. Her husband is one of the few law enforcement people in Hungary who will never be found guilty of taking any kind of bribe or doing anything illegal. They’re good people. And Andor is just like them. You can trust him.”

  “I don’t know him.” And therefore had little reason to trust him.

  “Then trust yourself. I know that you’ve been reading him the whole time he’s been talking to you. Vera doesn’t know why he needs your help. He refused to tell her because he knows she would tell his dad, who would then get involved, and he doesn’t want that. She also told me that he would never ask assistance from someone he didn’t trust could help and he would never ask for help if he didn’t need it.”

  I didn’t reply. I needed to consider this. Isabelle was correct. I’d studied every micro-expression Andor had exhibited and had not once found him to be deceptive.

  “Can you put me on speakerphone?” Isabelle’s question interrupted my thoughts. I nodded, lowered the phone and tapped the speakerphone icon.

  “Hi, Isabelle!” Roxy leaned towards the phone and winked at me. “Genevieve put you on speakerphone. Nikki’s gone home, but the rest of us are here with Andor.”

  “Hello, everyone.” Isabelle cleared her throat. “Manny, the president told me to give you the go-ahead if you consider this something worth looking into. Provided, of course, that the local officials approve of our involvement.”

  “Did my mom tell my dad I phoned?” Andor appeared younger in his concern about his parents.

  “No, she didn’t. But you know she will. You’d better phone her again and ask her to give you a few days before she spills the beans.”

  Andor’s shoulders slumped. “It’s most likely too late.”

  “Well, that’s what you get for asking your mom’s friend to convince these people to help you.” Laughter lifted Isabelle’s tone.

  Andor raised both hands when Vinnie and Manny inhaled deeply. “Guys, I’m desperate. I was willing to risk my dad sticking his nose in my business just to get your help.”

  “Doc?” Manny looked at me for a decision, but I saw the curiosity on his face. He was ready to agree.

  “If Andor’s intuition has led him to other cases that were being overlooked, I’m willing to take the risk.” And I was intrigued. Already I was thinking of the different types of searches we could run to find connections between the victims.

  Chapter FIVE

  I didn’t even try to modulate my facial expression. My levator labii superioris muscle raised my top lip as if I was smelling something bad. I was. The police station in Budapest was modern and appeared clean, but the smell of homeless bodies permeated the air. All European capital cities had a fair number of homeless people. Budapest was no exception, hosting over ten thousand homeless people, of whom a substantial percentage were Roma.

  As we entered the police station, two police officers in front of us ushered three men and two women to a waiting area. They appeared to be homeless. I’d noticed the officers’ latex gloves and had wondered if anyone would consider it discriminatory. I considered it wise. Living on the streets was most unhygienic and it was clear those five people hadn’t washed in a very long time.

  I swallowed as I watched one of the women wipe tears from her cheeks, smearing the dirt. It was hard for my logical mind to accept that people could endure such living conditions. Yet I had learned, not only from my social studies, but also from my own life, that not much in life was clear-cut. The decisions—our own and those of others—that had led us to this place in our lives had far too many nuances for strangers to comprehend.

  Colin’s hand tightened around mine and he tugged gently. I dragged my eyes away from the five people and followed Colin deeper into the station.

  As soon as we’d agreed to help Andor, he’d phoned his captain, who’d insisted on meeting us. A few times during that phone conversation, Andor had held the phone away from his ear, shouting coming through the small device. I was not looking forward to meeting Andor’s captain.

  At the moment, Andor and Manny were at the reception desk, taking the visitor badges they’d been arranging for us. This was the reason Francine and Vinnie weren’t with us. They didn’t want their names registered in any police station unless there was no other alternative. And they didn’t want to be in a police station. Roxy wasn’t needed for this meeting and had been happy to keep Vinnie company.

  “Henry Vaughan, here is your badge.” Manny scowled at Colin as he handed him a plastic-covered ID badge, then held one out to me. “Yours, Doc.”

  I glanced at the homeless people, then at the yellowed lanyard that was supposed to go around my neck. Clearly that strap had been around many other necks. I shuddered and refused to take it. “I’m not touching that.”

  “I’ll wear both.” Colin took mine and hung both around his neck.

  “This is so against protocol.” Andor blinked, narrowed his eyes at Colin and lowered his voice. “My research identified you as Henry Vaughan and also gave me very, very little information about your career as an art historian. But at the villa, you were called Colin and Frey.” He pointed at the badges around Colin’s neck. “Are you Colin, Frey or Henry Vaughan?”

  “Henry Vaughan, of course.” Colin’s nonverbal cues confirmed his truthfulness. If not for my expertise and intimate knowledge of this man, I would’ve been convinced. I always hated it when he used one of his seventeenth-century poet aliases, but I marvelled at his deception skills. “You can call me just what you want.”

  “Hmm.” Andor stared at Colin for a few more seconds then turned around. “Let’s go face the beast.”

  “Let me do the talking.” Manny followed Andor, but stayed closer to us. “But Doc, I need you to read this captain and tell me if we’re going to waste our time helping Garas.”

  We walked through a hallway that appeared to have been renovated recently. I had to admit that I was surprised at how modern and generally clean this police station was. Even the front of the station seemed well-maintained and clean. Despite the smell.

  When I didn’t answer Manny, he turned to me and glared until I frowned. “You know I always take note of people’s nonverbal cues, even more so when it’s a situation like this.”

  Andor slowed down and shook his head while looking at an open door at the end of the hallway. A booming baritone voice reached us. The man was shouting his displeasure in Hungarian. My language skills didn’t extend to Hungarian, but the last six days had tempted me to master this language. This man was the first person who didn’t make the language sound melodic. Instead he made every sentence sound like an assault.

  Every now and then a tenor voice answered, too quiet and mumbled to understand. From the booming voice’s response it appeared the other man was apologising, which infuriated the loud man even more. A final, even lou
der order came through the door a few seconds before a muscular man exited the room. He was wearing jeans and a dress shirt. His shaved head and the tattoos peeking out from under his shirt collar were not the typical image of a police officer. But the gun holster on his hip and the way he immediately assessed us led me to believe he was indeed a police officer.

  His red face, thinned lips, flared nostrils and every other nonverbal cue communicated his powerless frustration. His eyes widened slightly when he noticed us. Then his frown intensified when he saw Andor. He marched over and stopped in front of Andor, poking him in the chest. He lowered his chin and asked a question through his teeth.

  Andor’s reaction intrigued me. He wasn’t intimidated or scared. In fact, he appeared bored as if this happened all the time. He allowed the other man to finish speaking before he nodded and answered in English. “I wouldn’t be surprised if he is pissed off because of me. I’m sorry he took it out on you. I saw the video of that arrest. You didn’t use excessive force, no matter what that stupid journalist says. It was a clean takedown.”

  By the time Andor finished speaking in his respectful and calm tone, the other man’s breathing had slowed and his muscle tension decreased. He pulled his shoulders back, glanced at me, then looked at Andor. “Yeah. Whatever. Good luck. You’re going to need it.”

  Andor watched the other man leave, then turned back to the open door. “Well, let’s do this.”

  I felt conflicted. On the one hand, I didn’t want to enter a space that hosted a person who considered shouting at his subordinates a good leadership skill. But on the other hand, I was curious. Andor didn’t appear scared and watching him interact with the bald man had me wondering how he would handle a shouting superior.

  “Come in, Garas.” The loud voice reached me just as Andor stepped over the threshold. “Where are your friends?”

  I didn’t know whether the captain calling us Andor’s ‘friends’ sounded condescending because of his heavily accented English, because of the volume of his order or because he was actually being disdainful. I needed to get into the room and observe this man’s nonverbal cues. This time I was the one tugging on Colin’s hand as I followed Manny and Andor.

  The office surprised me. At first glance, it appeared to be a conference room. I took another step into the room. We were roughly in the centre of the room. To our right was a seating area with seven chairs and a coffee table that looked like it had suffered years of abuse. And not one of the chairs matched. A map of Hungary with torn and curled corners filled most of the wall.

  I looked closer at the wall and realised it was retractable. My initial impression had been correct. This was a conference room that could be enlarged by sliding those walls on the floor and ceiling rails out of the way. I wondered why the commanding officer of a department would have his office in a conference room.

  Large windows let in natural light, but faced another building which clearly needed renovation. It wasn’t a view that could be enjoyed. To our left was a long light wood table that could easily seat twelve people. A man in his fifties was sitting with his back to a wall that had four large monitors mounted on it.

  “I think I must say welcome.” His accented English made me question the intention of his words. I decided not to trust his ability to communicate clearly with his words. I focused on his nonverbal cues as he got out of his chair.

  He wore a suit that Colin would, no doubt, later criticise for having been made in the previous millennium. His full moustache didn’t hide his orbicularis oris muscles contracting his lips to display his annoyance. He pushed his thick glasses up the bridge of his nose and scowled at Manny as he walked around the table. “So you are the team of superheroes coming to take over my department.”

  “They’re not coming to take over anything, Cap.” Andor moved to step between his superior and Manny, but stopped when the other man pointed an index finger at him.

  “I’ll shake your cage when I want you to speak, Garas.” He stopped in front of Manny. “I’m Captain Zorán Palya. I assume you are Colonel Millard.”

  “At your service.” Manny slumped and scratched his stubbled jaw. “Your detective is right. We’re not here to take over anything. If you don’t want us here, we’ll just march on right back out the doors and continue our holiday.”

  Manny was lying. I knew this not because he was communicating clear deception cues. After working with him for five years, it had become easy for me to know when his disinterest was true and not. As he was watching Captain Palya for a reaction, Manny’s interest was obvious to me. It was in his slightly narrowed eyes, his fists pushed into his trouser pockets and his shoulders drooping even more to create the false impression of his ennui.

  Captain Palya grunted loudly as he took a step back and leaned his hips against the table. “No, no. You have to stay. As much as I would like to think that I’m running the show here, I don’t.”

  “I swear I didn’t do anything, Cap.” Andor took a step back, waving both hands in the air as if to ward off the irritated glance his superior gave him.

  Captain Palya turned his full attention to Andor. “I got a phone call this morning from the colonel.” He lowered his brow, his top lip curling. “Before breakfast, Garas. I got that call before breakfast. And then exactly two hours later you phoned me, telling me you have a super team that’s going to help you find this woman.”

  Relief lessened the tension in Andor’s face as he turned to us. “The colonel is Captain Palya’s superior and about two tiers below my dad.”

  “Does your father know about this?” Captain Palya clenched his fists.

  Andor shook his head. “You know I don’t involve my dad. I haven’t told him, but the way things are happening, I won’t be surprised if he finds out soon.”

  “Most likely from the colonel.” Behind Captain Palya’s bluster and loud displeasure, his respect for Andor was unmistaken. In this moment, he was addressing his subordinate as a peer. He slammed his fist against his thigh. “It pisses me off when people use their connections to get crap done.”

  “You’re not talking about Andor.” I winced as Manny turned to me, his lips tight. I turned my focus back to Captain Palya’s expression. “It’s quite clear that you’re irritated with this morning’s events. It might save us all time and energy if you forgo the show of rage and simply tell us what you know.”

  “Who the hell do you think you are?” The redness in his cheeks darkened as his volume increased with each word shouted at me.

  “You know who I am.” I nodded when his reaction confirmed my statement. “The moment you were notified about us, you found out as much as you could.”

  Captain Palya glared at me, his nostrils flared. “Oh, I know about you, all right. Doctor Genevieve Lenard, well-respected and highly disliked world expert on nonverbal communication.”

  “If I may.” Colin leaned in to put himself slightly between me and the irate captain. I needed only one glance at Colin’s face to know that he was locking down his emotions and was now fully immersed in his alias. He was the suave, soft-spoken Henry Vaughan. “Emotions are running a bit high, but it is not helping Ms Olivia Webster. While we are indulging in this unpleasant show of power, she might be in dire need of our help.”

  Captain Palya’s top lip curled even more as he turned his attention to Colin. When Colin didn’t lower his gaze or take a step back, the older man’s brow furrowed. For three seconds, he moved his bottom jaw, breathed loudly and exhibited more cues indicating his internal debate. Then he came to a decision. His facial muscles relaxed and he nodded. “Fine. Doesn’t mean I like this.”

  “To be honest, neither do we.” Colin’s tone was respectful. “Our holiday is being interrupted by this case, but there are too many elements that make it a matter of urgency.”

  “Urgency?” Captain Palya tilted his head as if he realised there was more involved than what he was aware of. “Before I get into that, I need for you superheroes to understand I’m not a compl
ete idiot. I know you are extremely good at what you do. What I need to know is whether you’re going to loop me in or make this your own show.”

  I inhaled to ask him to explain the numerous expressions he was using, but Colin’s hand tightened around mine. I bit down on my lips and focused instead on analysing every micro-expression on Captain Palya’s face.

  “I don’t want a show.” Manny pulled out a chair and sat down hard. “All I want is to help find this woman and also find out what else might be involved in her disappearance.”

  “So you don’t think she’s been kidnapped?” Captain Palya took a chair and sat down facing Manny.

  “I don’t know what to think yet. We have far too little information.”

  “Hmm.” Captain Palya pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose. “It seems like her boss is convinced that she’s been kidnapped. That’s why I got the call this morning. Her boss is friends with the commissioner. Instead of waiting the usual twenty-four hours before reporting her missing, he went straight over everyone’s heads to the commissioner.” He narrowed his eyes at Andor. “I know that look. What did you do?”

  “He also went over heads,” Manny said. “He got his mother to make a phone call to help convince us to help him.”

  “Why?” Captain Palya winced. “Is this another one of your idiotic gut feelings?”

  Andor smiled. “My gut feelings have solved many cases for us.”

  “At the cost of my sanity.” The captain’s voice rose as he shook his index finger at Andor. “You better start telling me everything. Now.”

  Andor did. He told Captain Palya about Olivia calling him, how he’d waited for her at the café, her escape and then her not showing up at their meeting point this morning. I was most intrigued that he didn’t once mention Olivia’s job, her mention of István Koltai or his own theory about the loosely connected murders.

  “Why did she want to meet you?” Captain Palya had clearly picked up that he was not receiving all the information.