by Seb Kirby
It pleased her that the family had been guarded so well from the knowledge of how their fortune had arisen, how Esteban had even laid a false trail that the whole plan had been carried out by a mysterious Argentine called Eduardo di Valfierno with a forger other than Patron, so that, if anyone began to investigate the theft of the Mona Lisa as the clever scam it was, they would be looking for a nonexistent perpetrator.
Behind every great fortune lies a great crime. This had been true of each of the families that Esteban had chosen to purchase a copy of the Mona Lisa. Perhaps, on a small scale, it was his way of righting the wrongs at the same time as he made himself rich.
His crime had been special, one that showed his superiority over those he’d duped, for, if you discounted the consequences of their bruised egos, his was a victimless crime. If there were those who might claim the status of victim, it was clear they deserved what they got.
Alessa came out of her thoughts. Yes, it had been a superior crime and one that had served her family well. But their wealth was used up by the time she came of age. Back in 1983, it had been up to her to find a way of restoring the family’s fortune.
Esteban had been just thirty years old when he’d made the family rich. She was also just thirty back then, when she’d found a way to gather together the means to act.
Chapter 43
Before recent events, Elmore Ravitz was preparing for a good year.
The efforts he’d made to become electable were about to pay off. The charity fund raisers, the celebrity dinners, the work with the Party, the image consultant sessions, were all about to prove worthwhile as he gained the nomination for Senator and then saw the opinion polls give him a ten point lead over his rival.
Then the letter arrived.
It would have been easy to ignore it, to let it pass in favor of the realization that nothing should stand in the way of the Senate seat. That would have been too easy and, in any case, wouldn’t have been possible, he knew that.
He’d never tried explaining the whole story to his wife, Leah, but the time had now come.
Nothing was ideal here on Town Lake but at least they were safe from harm and they had a degree of privacy – when the FBI men posted to protect them would leave them in peace.
Daughter Jenny was asleep. The guards had made their latest round of security checks and he was alone with Leah. It was time to tell her.
“Honey, I want to be completely straight with you. If I’m going to make it all the way, you can’t be placed in a situation where anything will come as unwelcome news to you, especially as First Lady.”
There, he’d said it. In eight or twelve years’ time he would be a viable candidate for President. Influential members of the Party were talking in those terms. A campaign to raise the funding he would need was well underway.
Leah knew something like this was coming. She’d not seen him look this troubled; those signs of inner turmoil couldn’t be hidden, not from her. In the twenty years they’d been together she’d learned to read his moods, to understand his inner life. Everything she knew now told her this was bad. “Tell me, honey. There’s more to why we have to move here, isn’t there?”
He held her hand. “I want to tell you everything, right from the start. I want you to know everything and that’s not going to be easy. I don’t want you to think the worst of me.”
“You know I’d never do that.”
“It’s about my father, Eli. He had enemies. In truth, he never had many real friends, just a bunch of acquaintances held together by the respect they had for him.”
“How do you mean, respect? Makes him seem, well, somehow shady.”
“That’s what I have to tell you. There’s no good way to hedge around it. He was a criminal. The money in this family came from drugs.”
There, he’d said that too.
“I thought it was from an import/export business.”
“It was. Only there wasn’t much export, I have to tell you. He brought drugs in from Mexico. Just until he made enough to go legitimate and establish the family, send me to a good school, give me a college education, put me where I am today. None of that was easy – not when you’re dealing with Mexico’s and San Diego’s finest.”
Leah was shocked but tried not to show it. “That was the past. This is now. Those days are behind you. Behind us. You have a great future. What makes you want to dwell on the past at a time like this?”
“I wish it was that simple. Truth is, the past began to catch up with us once the letter arrived.”
“Letter?”
Elmore went to the study desk, opened it and removed an envelope containing a single sheet of paper.
He gave the letter to Leah. She read it, taking in every word. “It’s from a lawyer in Belgium and it’s addressed to your father. I don’t understand. What has this got to do with what’s happening to us now? It’s not about what you were saying about drugs, is it?”
“Not directly, my dear, but that’s where this leads.”
He told her how his father had been one of those fooled into buying a worthless copy of a stolen painting, Picasso’s Weeping Woman, believing it to be the original.
“I guess the letter came here because Eli’s no longer with us and the lawyer who sent it was under instruction to mail it to the next of kin.”
“This man Pugot who asked for the letter to be sent, he was the art dealer?”
Ravitz nodded.
“Your father bought the picture knowing it was stolen?”
“That didn’t matter to him. Such precious things were owned by those who didn’t deserve them. He’d made it to the top the hard way. Why shouldn’t he have the best if it pleased him? But when it emerged that the painting was a fake, he was angry. He was a vengeful man. Yet he couldn’t find the identity of those who had swindled him. He marked it down as unfinished business and that’s the way it stayed.”
“Until now.”
“Yes, until I received the letter.”
Leah was still struggling to understand the significance of the letter. “So what does the letter change? Why can’t it stay as unfinished business?”
Ravitz leaned forward. “That’s just the point, my dear. You see, we now know the name of the person who swindled my father. It was Alessa Lando. She took the money from my father and, not content with that, she used it to finance the entry of her family into the drugs business in Mexico. They should have had more sense than to do that with someone they’d used in an art swindle but we now know that’s just what they did.”
“And that puts us in danger?”
“It does. It’s certain Eli wasn’t the only one to be taken in by the Landos. People like that are greedy. They worked the swindle with more than one fake copy of the painting and that means there is more than one copy of the letter out there. Those people will start looking for answers. Those answers are going to lead to the connection between Eli and the Lando family. Between us and the Landos.”
Leah was becoming more concerned. “And it could end your political career?”
Ravitz nodded. “There are no votes in you or your family having been involved in drugs. Once that connection was made my political career would be over for sure. You can see why I had to act on the letter. But I made a mistake. I went after her, Alessa Lando and her criminal gang.”
“What are you saying?”
“They deserved no better. I had words with friends in the FBI. They sympathized with my problem. I didn’t mention drugs. Just the art swindle. They were helpful.”
“You’re frightening me. Why was it a mistake?”
Elmore gave an unconvincing smile. “They tried to get to her, but she’d disappeared. No contact was made. But by then I’d already made my first mistake. When I sent the FBI after her, she was alerted. What had been kept secret all those years was now out in the open. The art dealer, Pugot, died, did I tell you that?”
Leah shook her head. “No, but it makes sense from the letter.”
“In an accident, for Pete’s sake. He must have threatened Alessa Lando all those years ago. He didn’t trust her. If anything happened to him, he’d arrange for his lawyer to send out letters naming her to the families that had been swindled. That’s why we got our letter when we did. Alessa Lando was alerted to Pugot’s death and got to find out the letters had been sent naming her.”
“Don’t blame yourself. You don’t know that she might have found this out anyway by other means.”
“I guess that’s right. But in any case, I’d done a good job of making sure she knew.”
Leah was finding it hard to hold back the tears. “And that’s the real reason why we had to leave San Diego?”
Ravitz squeezed her hand. “There’s only one way people like the Landos know how to react. They attack first. They seek to eliminate the threat to them before anything can happen to them.”
“So we’re under direct threat?”
He nodded. “There’s an operative out there. At least one, maybe a second. We’re their target. It’s why we’re here, surrounded by security.”
Leah shuddered. “And all set off by the letter?”
He nodded again.
“But we’re safe here? We don’t have to worry?”
“That’s right, my dear. We’re safe here.”
“You said it was your first mistake.”
He looked away. “When I contacted the FBI it wasn’t a clean contact. There was confusion over names. I got through to the wrong part of the Agency. Not the part that’s with us, if you know what I mean. The agent they put on the case wasn’t someone we could trust to keep what he discovered away from the wider authorities. But it’s been sorted out. Agent Craven is assigned to the case now. He’s one of us. He’s sorting this mess out.”
Jenny Ravitz turned over in bed. Her parents had been quieter than usual but she’d heard enough to know the reason why they were here.
Chapter 44
When Miles replied to Luiz Reyas’ last message, the reply that came back was simple: Urgent. Meet in Austin, Texas. AM 22nd.
Miles determined he could get there in time via Heathrow and Chicago O’Hare if he left within the hour.
He phoned Julia from the Newspaper to where he’d returned to plan the trip. “It’s come. The message from Reyas. I need to meet him in Austin. Means I’ll be gone at least three days.”
Julia felt at a loss that she’d come to depend on this man who, a short while before, she’d done everything to avoid. “I can manage.”
“I’m arranging protection for you. I can charge it through the Newspaper. Mark Craig. He’s ex-police and experienced. When I briefed him he asked all the right questions.”
“What did you tell him?”
“You’re a witness to a crime I’m investigating and you may be in danger. Oh, and that you’re pregnant.”
“You didn’t tell him about Franks and the Landos?”
“I thought I’d leave it to you to decide how much to tell him.”
“And what do I tell the hotel manager?”
“Simple. Craig is your brother. He’s come to keep you company while James is away on business. By the way, your passport is ready. Craig will collect it and bring it with him.”
“Is Craig armed?”
“He shouldn’t be. But he will be carrying. You can depend on him. He’s got me out of more than one difficult situation. I trust him. You should too.”
Julia didn’t sound as relieved as Miles had hoped. “I’ll do my best to convince the manager.”
“Craig will take a room in the hotel like any other paying customer. He can help you handle the manager, I’m sure of that.”
“Why Austin?”
“It’s where Reyas wants to meet, that’s all I know. I’ll find out when I get there.”
Julia spoke at a whisper. “Take care, Miles. Look after yourself.”
Chapter 45
It was evening in Austin and I was playing my part in Craven’s plan by sitting in the bar of the Warren Richardson Hotel trying not to be out of place even though I had the haunted look that comes from being drugged, shipped five thousand miles on a military aircraft and then kept under constant surveillance.
I was surrounded by the expected, well-heeled crowd who’d found their way into the air-conditioned bar to escape the August heat.
A blonde-haired woman in a business suit had come to sit next to me. “You look terrible.”
I replied in my best British accent. “It’s the jet lag. Always makes me feel bad.”
She smiled. “And, don’t tell me, you Brits don’t take well to the Austin heat.”
“We don’t.”
She’d drawn close enough now for me to smell her hundred-dollar-a-bottle perfume.
She whispered, “Don’t overdo it, James. I work for the Firm. Just make it look like I’m picking you up. You can manage that, can’t you? But don’t get any ideas. I work for Craven and he wants you to know this is business, straight business. OK? Which is not to say I don’t find jet-lagged Brits attractive.”
“Just so I know?”
“Yeah. Just so you know.”
“No, I mean, what’s your name?”
“Call me Miller.”
“Agent Miller?”
“Debbie Miller. Less of the agent.”
“So this is what we do. We wait here.”
She smiled. “You got it. And you get me a drink.”
I called over the barman. Agent Miller knew what she wanted. “Single malt. Ice. No water.”
The barman obliged.
It was a false existence if ever there was one – pretending to be here for the Comicom trade fair.
I complained to Agent Miller. “How long do we have to keep up this charade?”
She downed the whisky and held out her glass for another. “As long as it takes.”
“And why here, in this bar?”
“It’s the way Craven wants it. He’s methodical. This is the place where he can get enough of the right personnel in position to bring the assailant down. Once he reveals himself.”
I didn’t like the sound of that. “With me as the come on.”
She didn’t answer. Instead she looked down at the empty glass. “Now you couldn’t say the barman was busy, could you?”
I spent a nervous four hours in the hotel bar.
That did nothing for my paranoia.
While keeping up the small talk with Agent Miller, I was all the time positioning myself so I could look around the place without this showing.
I couldn’t recognize any of Craven’s team who’d been on the ’plane or with me at Huntsville. When I took another look around a little later, I could see that Craven had joined a group of three at the far end of the bar who exchanged banter in what looked like a good-natured night out with friends. I had to take it on trust they were Craven’s men and that they were on duty. Yet it was clear the priority was not to protect me but, rather, to catch the assailant once I’d been targeted.
I found myself looking at every newcomer and asking myself the question – is this him, is this the operative these people were so determined to catch that they would lay my life on the line?
There was one man, a Mexican with whitened teeth and eyes all the time so wide open that the white below his eyelids showed. I was convinced he was the one – something about him said he no more belonged here than I did.
I whispered to Miller, “I think that’s him. Standing at the bar. Near the center. The Mexican.”
Miller whispered back. “What makes you think that?”
“Just the way he looks.”
She smiled. “If it was that easy, this whole operation would be a cake walk.”
“You don’t think it’s him?”
She smiled again. “It’s not him.”
“How can you be sure?”
“We have word the one we’re expecting is European.”
I felt relieved. I looked over at the Mexican again. He looked like a norma
l business type once more. The paranoia was making anything or anyone look suspicious.
I returned my thoughts to Miller. “OK. It’s not him. But sooner or later one of them is going to be the one you’re looking for. Doesn’t that make you think?”
“Think what, Charles?”
“Well, the way Craven has this thing set up doesn’t leave much to doubt. The plan is not to protect me but to catch your man when he attacks. And you’re not out there with Craven’s men, you’re up here with me in the line of fire. Doesn’t that worry you?”
She gave me a condescending look. “You don’t get it, do you? In my line of work this is what we do.”
I wished I had Miller’s courage.
The evening passed. I thought I had identified at least two others, European types this time, who fitted the bill but I was wrong again. In the event, the assailant did not show.
Craven summed it up. “Nothing tonight. But that doesn’t mean the perp won’t show.”
I was escorted at a distance back to my room.
Chapter 46
Wolfgang Heller didn’t like what he’d seen out at Town Lake.
And he liked even less the idea that the Englishman Blake was in Austin. Heller had been to the Warren Richardson Hotel and had seen him but hadn’t stayed long enough to be observed.
Both were traps. The compound at Town Lake was so well defended that any reasonable person would have deduced that five like him would have found it impossible to make the hit.
He’d expected Elmore Ravitz to be well-defended. After all, he had power and influence and all those friends in high places. That influence had been used to threaten the well-being of Heller’s good friend Matteo Lando and, for God’s sake, his mother. Here was a man who hid behind the gloss of decency when all along, as Heller knew so well, he had no right to anything of the kind.
So, he was supposed to be drawn to the Englishman as the easier target. He wasn’t about to fall for that. He knew they’d be waiting for him. How crude they’d been in this. As if he would oblige them. They had to be made to understand he was a more worthy opponent than that.
