The Malhoa Connection

by Estelle Ryan

  “Bloody hell.” Manny rubbed his hands hard over his face.

  Vinnie got up. “We must get to that witch’s house now.”

  “Oh, shit.” Pink tapped his tablet a few more times, then looked at Manny. “Celma’s house is registered in President Katombi’s name.”

  Chapter TWENTY-TWO

  FRANCINE TILTED HER head at the five devices in the centre of the dining room table, then nodded. “We’re ready to watch the action.”

  This was the same setup as last night when we’d watched Colin and the others in Celma’s street. The difference this morning was that Pink was with them and we had another tablet with the others to display his bodycam footage. This time it made sense for all of them to be there. Bianca was outside our door, guarding this floor and the only entrance to this suite. Thierry was still dealing with the police in the park. The others’ time was best spent at Celma’s house. Or, as we now knew, President Katombi’s house.

  Francine had hacked the security company again and given Pink all the codes to remotely turn off the security system in the house when they were ready to breach. Their plan was to enter and for all of them to search through that big house for any indication of the Collector’s plans. It didn’t sound like a well-developed plan to me, but I didn’t have any better suggestions.

  I hated that we knew so much about Celma and President Katombi, and yet we didn’t know enough. I still wasn’t confident in declaring either Celma or President Katombi was the Collector. I didn’t know what the Collector’s motivation was for anything they did. That knowledge alone would help figuring out their endgame. There were a few theories I could entertain, but I was not willing to risk guessing. Not at this stage.

  I sighed in frustration and looked at the screens. Colin was driving the rented SUV and was once again wearing the spy glasses. Pink, Armando and Manny were with him. The latter had refused to climb into that ‘rust bucket’ with Inge. This time Daniel was driving her car, Vinnie next to him and Inge in the backseat. All but Inge and Armando were wearing bodycams.

  “You know?” Inge’s voice sounded over Daniel and Vinnie’s mics, her face not visible on their video footage. “Manny was right. My car is really draughty back here.”

  “Ooh, don’t tell the old man he was right.” Vinnie chuckled. “He shouldn’t hear things like that.”

  Colin slowed down the SUV and stopped four blocks from Celma’s house. “Pink?”

  “On it.” He hopped out of the car and pulled his black backpack with him.

  Daniel stopped behind the SUV, but no one got out.

  Pink opened the backpack and took out a drone. This one was much larger than the insect-sized one Francine had used to follow Jake. It was the size of a small laptop, affording it many more functions. Francine and Pink had done something that made it invisible to scanners, giving the drone the stealth needed to ensure everyone’s safety.

  “I really hope it’s worth the risk sending up that drone.” Francine’s fingers were interlaced, her hands between her knees. “Seriously, Manny should’ve let me go with them.”

  That had been a loud argument. Manny had refused to even entertain the idea. Francine’s ribs were still too tender and she would put herself and everyone at risk if they needed to move fast. She’d cajoled, threatened, begged and had been furious with me when I’d agreed with Manny.

  Finally, she’d shaken an angry fist at Pink, ordering him to take notes. It had taken her twenty-three minutes to give Pink access to the security company’s servers and show him how to turn off the security system in Celma’s house without tripping any alarms or sending a notification to Celma’s phone.

  She had cloned her tablet onto another one and given that one to Pink. Whatever he was doing, she would be able to jump in and assist the moment she noticed Wraith’s presence. It was on her tablet now that we watched Pink disable Celma’s security system, then open the drone program. A few more taps and we were watching the drone footage as Pink sent it down the street.

  The drone flew over Celma’s wrought-iron fence. Pink immediately veered the drone to the right to stay semi-hidden behind the trees and carefully trimmed bushes. The video quality was impressive, displaying the landscaped property in all its beauty. The drone moved a bit higher just as Francine tapped the screen.

  The view changed from a high-definition quality to infrared. I moved a bit closer. There was nothing on the screen to indicate that there were people in that house. Pink flew the drone over the roof to the other side of the house. It was a senseless move since the infrared detection on this drone would’ve picked up a person anywhere in the house the first time.

  Pink tweaked the settings on the tablet and brought the drone back, but let it hover over the roof for a few seconds.

  “What’s that?” Armando was looking over Pink’s shoulder. He moved next to Pink and pointed at a red image lying still in a room close to the wrap-around balcony.

  “Hmm.” Pink leaned closer, then cleared his throat. “Oh, man. It’s a cat.”

  Armando jerked back. “She has a cat?”

  “Keep your bloody voice down.” Manny opened the SUV passenger door and put his phone in his trouser pocket, glaring at Armando. “What the hell are you doing out here? I told you to stay put until we get to the house.”

  “She has a cat.” The small muscles around Armando’s eyes and mouth contracted in his grief. “A cat.”

  “Dammit.” Manny got back in the car. “Frey, deal with that.”

  Colin opened his window, his expression sympathetic. “We’re going to get her, Armando. Get in the car so we can do our job.”

  “Evil.” Armando shook his head, his shoulders hunched as he got back into the SUV. “Pure evil.”

  Manny glared back at him, then looked at Colin. “President Godard has given us the go-ahead. He tried to contact President Pedroso, but he’s in a meeting. He’ll try again to let him know that something is about to go down and it might include President Katombi. Bloody hell.” He rubbed his hands over his face. “What are we still doing here, Frey? Move. It’s time you put your criminal skills to good use.”

  “Sweet-talking me, Millard?” Colin started the SUV and pulled into the street. “I need to savour this moment.”

  “What moment?” Armando pulled his shoulders back.

  “The moment Millard orders me to commit a crime.”

  “Bugger off, Frey.” Manny slumped deeper in the seat. “We don’t have time to waste on your snowflake feelings.”

  Colin laughed and turned into Celma’s driveway. Pink tapped his tablet screen. “I’ll open the gates for us.”

  No sooner had he said that than the gates rolled open. Colin and Daniel parked in front of the three wooden garage doors, the gates rolling closed behind them. Everyone got out and Colin immediately walked to Pink. “Send it up.”

  Pink took the drone from his backpack and within seconds it lifted into the air. On Colin’s request he first took the drone to the wrap-around balcony. Armando and Colin were flanking Pink, their eyes not moving from the footage.

  The drone went to the balcony on this side of the house, then slowly moved along the balcony to the other side. The camera was aimed at the doors and windows leading to the balcony. Colin straightened and smiled. “Piece of cake.”

  “People always forget to secure their balconies.” Armando studied the walls of the house.

  Without wasting another moment, Colin walked to the corner of the house and looked at the painted façade. Protruding bricks formed a decorative pattern on the corner, broader at the bottom and narrowing to the top. It would not be as easy as a ladder, but for someone as skilled in scaling buildings as Colin, these were more than sufficient holds.

  As if to himself, Colin nodded once and put his flexible sports shoe on the first brick. I watched him from Vinnie’s camera, a small smile lifting the corners of my mouth when he swung himself over the balcony railing less than a minute later. Manny grumbled a few rude comments, but walk
ed up to the front door to wait for Colin to let them in.

  Colin walked around the balcony. From the camera on his spy glasses, I only caught a quick glimpse of the view from this side of the balcony. It was as breathtaking as I had suspected. The sun glinted off the Atlantic Ocean in the distance, rooftops and a strip of forest filling the view.

  Colin stopped at double doors leading to a large bedroom, possibly the master bedroom. He leaned over and pushed a long lockpick into the lock. When he manoeuvred the second lockpick in, Armando joined him. “You’re a frigging monkey.”

  Colin didn’t look away, but chuckled as he turned the lockpicks until a soft click sounded. He straightened and opened the door. “What’s the matter, Armando? That little wall too man for you?”

  Armando’s half-smile turned into a full genuine grin. “I’ve heard many rumours about you. Seems like they’re all true.” He walked past Colin into the house and stopped. “Fuck.”

  Lying on the bed was a large ginger cat. It lifted its head and looked at Armando, then at Colin before turning its back on them and going back to sleep.

  “What the bloody hell is taking them so long?” Manny knocked on the front door, then looked at Pink. “You sure there’s no alarm or sensor or anything on in this house?”

  “Nothing that’s connected to the system the security company installed.” Pink glanced towards the corner of the house Colin had climbed. “Hopefully, Celma trusted this system was enough.”

  “Bloody hell.” Manny looked into Pink’s camera. “Francine, tell Frey to get his arse down here.”

  Francine laughed. “I’m not doing that.”

  I concurred. Colin needed to pay attention to his environment. He followed Armando into the bedroom and whistled as his gaze was immediately drawn to a painting above the bed. Both men stared unmoving at the familiar work of art.

  “The Drunks.” Colin pushed his fingers through his hair. “Shit. I shouldn’t be surprised, but... damn. Right above the bed.”

  José Malhoa’s painting that had been stolen from the consulate general five nights ago was hanging on the wall of a house registered to the president of Angola and currently inhabited by his convicted niece. I had no doubt it was the original work of art.

  “Um, Colin?” Armando pointed at a blinking light above the dressing table mirror. “You think we’re on camera?”

  Colin gave the painting a last look and walked to the dressing table. “It might be recording, but it’s not transmitting. Pink is blocking all signals not ours from leaving this house.”

  “That’s possible? Huh.” Armando nodded and blinked when he saw the colourful oil painting of a favela hanging next to the door. “That’s a Tarsila do Amaral.”

  “It is.” Colin smiled when Manny banged on the front door again. “We’d better let the others in.”

  They made their way downstairs, Colin’s breathing changing a few times as he noticed more artwork hanging on the walls. He reached the front door, unlocked the two locks and opened it. “Whatever you’re selling, I’m not interested.”

  He started closing the door in Manny’s shocked face when the latter pushed the door hard. Colin stepped back and smiled when Vinnie chuckled and punched Manny lightly on the shoulder as he passed him. “A bit slow there, old man.”

  “Stop buggering around.” Manny pointed at the stairs. “Frey, you, Daniel and Armando take the upstairs. Inge, Pink and I will look around here. And for the love of all that is holy, don’t steal anything. And make haste. Don’t waste time fawning over some bauble or other.”

  “Did he just say ‘bauble’?” Armando whispered loudly as he followed Colin and Daniel back up the stairs. “And ‘fawn’? Who speaks like that? I mean, I know English is my second language, but I’ve never heard such old English.”

  “I can still hear them,” Manny muttered as he entered the kitchen. Daniel walked into the living room and Inge disappeared into another room that looked like it could be a separate dining room.

  For the next thirty minutes, I sat frozen on my chair. My eyes darted from one screen to the next as I tried to see and analyse as much as possible from the footage of the five cameras. It looked like a house that was not well-lived in. Or the people who lived here were excessively neat. There were no dishes waiting to be washed, no hand towel out of place from being used recently or watermarks on the glass walls of the shower.

  It did, however, look like a home that was lovingly decorated. Often, houses in this price class were so carefully designed that they looked like showpieces rather than homes. There was nothing clinical about this house’s interior décor. Colourful curtains framed the tall windows, Persian rugs scattered on the tiled floors and artwork on every wall.

  Significant artwork. So far, Colin had pointed out three paintings that were on our list of works the Collector had stolen. I’d noticed another two from Manny and Pink’s footage. The Collector had indeed kept those paintings to hang in this house.

  Apart from the paintings, framed photos also decorated the house. I’d seen three on the dressing table in the main bedroom, another four on the mantelpiece in the living room and three on the wall of the kitchen. Prominent places you put photos of your loved ones.

  I picked up my phone and called Colin. I tapped the speakerphone icon and put my phone on the table.

  He was in the main bedroom and tapped the screen on the second ring. “Jenny, are you seeing all of this?”

  “Go to the photos on the dressing table.”

  “The photos?” He walked out of the walk-in wardrobe and back to the dressing table. “I’ve been too busy coveting the art on the walls to have noticed the photos. What did you see?”

  He lifted one of the frames, giving me a much better view. I grabbed my tablet and did a quick online search. It confirmed my suspicion. “That is President Katombi’s wife.”

  “Who’s this?” Colin tapped the speakerphone button, put his phone on the dressing table and lifted another frame.

  This time, Francine was faster with her search. “His mother-in-law.”

  “Huh. If this is where Celma lives, why would she have photos of President Katombi’s wife and mother-in-law?” Colin leaned towards the door. “Millard!” He put down both photos and picked up the third. It looked like this photo had been taken many years ago. “And this?”

  It took a bit longer to identify the man using the other photos connected with President Katombi. “His brother.”

  “Celma’s dad?” Armando was now standing next to Colin. “That wouldn’t be odd for her to have in her bedroom.”

  “True.” Francine narrowed her eyes at the screens. “Then where is the photo of her mother?”

  “Hmm.” Armando’s half-smile intensified when Manny stormed into the room.

  “What?” Manny looked at the photos when Colin pointed. He walked closer. “So?”

  “If we’re working on the assumption that this is Celma’s house, these would be photos of the most important people in her life.” Colin pointed at each photo. “President Katombi’s wife, his mother-in-law, his brother.”

  Manny pushed his hands in his trouser pockets, frowning. He glanced at Colin’s phone next to the photos and leaned closer. “Doc?”

  “Yes.”

  He huffed. “What do you think about this?”

  “I need to see the photos in the kitchen and living room.”

  “That’s not an answer.” Manny shook his head, but left the room with Colin and Armando. By the time they reached the kitchen, the others had joined them. Manny looked at Inge and Pink. “Anything?”

  “A lot of art on the walls, but no documents or papers that would indicate who lived here.” She smiled at Manny. “I didn’t even find pretty baubles.”

  “Jenny?” Colin was holding a photo in his hand. “More people.”

  Pink took out his small tablet and tapped the screen. Both Francine and I were running searches. I was first to identify the couple in the photo. They were standing in front of wha
t looked like a banana plantation, their smiles wide and genuine. “President Katombi’s parents.”

  “Celma’s grandparents.” Daniel frowned. “Why are we looking at photos?”

  Colin told them about the bedroom photos. Inge reacted immediately. “I’ll get the ones in the living room.”

  Pink identified the other people as President Katombi’s school friend and first business partner. Inge ran in with the other photos and between us we identified them as President Katombi’s sister and family, another two photos of his wife with their children and two of his grandchildren.

  Armando turned to Pink. “Didn’t you say this house is registered in President Katombi’s name?”

  “Yes.”

  “Then these photos are not odd. Why are we making a fuss over them?”

  “Because Jen-girl asked.” Vinnie scratched his head. “I’m not sure what to make of this.”

  “Has anyone found the safe yet?” Francine asked into my phone.

  “I saw it and was going to check it out before you phoned.” Colin turned to leave the kitchen. “Shall I?”

  “Yes.” I wanted to see what was in that wardrobe. “Vinnie, can you go into the master bathroom?”

  “Sure thing.” Vinnie followed Colin.

  “The rest of you keep looking,” Manny said. “We need to find out what the Collector is planning. Bloody hell. We need to know if the Collector is President Katombi or Celma and what they’re planning.”

  Daniel and Inge went back to the downstairs office, Pink went to the living room and Armando followed Manny up the stairs.

  Colin and Vinnie were already in the walk-in wardrobe. Vinnie continued through it into the bathroom. “What are you looking for, Jen-girl?”

  I leaned closer to my phone. “Tell Vinnie to show me the contents of the vanity.”

  “I heard you.” Vinnie opened the top drawer of the vanity and tilted his camera to aim more directly at it. Toothpaste, cologne and beard oil was neatly arranged in the drawer. He opened more drawers, then did a slow turn in the bathroom. “This is not a woman’s bathroom.” He stepped closer to the shower. “That shower gel and shampoo are for men.”