Fatal Forgeries

by Ritter Ames

  “He told you that on the phone when he called with the job offer?”

  “Not exactly,” Nico said. “He said he had to revamp, and his idea was to use me to hack into some of the computers and get him entrance without the painting. I learned this the second time I talked to him, after I’d made it back to London with the group. By then, of course, he knew the Caravaggio was no longer available. I’m sure he was notified soon after we left the facility grounds. He just didn’t know I’d taken part in its recovery. He was concerned about the people running the auction. He needed capital to pay off the guns he’d already taken receipt of, since he could no long produce the painting. He wanted me to trick the system. His understanding was their computer setup was foolproof.”

  I couldn’t help smiling. “But not Nico proof.”

  “Goes without saying.” He shrugged.

  “Yet, you say he has a top-grade computer structure,” I said.

  Nico nodded. “And two of the organization’s computer experts recently left Rollie’s employ.”

  “Voluntarily?”

  “From the body language of the guy who whispered it to me, I would say their termination was the permanent kind,” Nico said.

  Wow. Did they try to leave and he didn’t want them to? Did their consciences weigh too heavily? Or was the fact I’d seen Rollie’s personality evolving to the dark side something they’d noticed and worried about too? “You have no clue why?” I asked.

  “No, just the same thoughts you’re likely processing,” Nico said.

  He knew me too well.

  “So the Caravaggio was never the objective on the forgery and heist side of things? It was all to give the gun runners their preferred payoff?” I asked.

  “Yes and no,” Nico said. “Well, for Rollie anyway. Granted, I only knew the sketchiest of details about the copies, as Rollie pulled me in soon after, and anytime I mentioned Caravaggio forgeries I received blank looks. The copies could still be a duplicate maneuver by Ermo Colle.”

  “How did Rollie contact you next?”

  “He and two cronies entered the Tube car I was in seconds before the doors closed.”

  “From Heathrow,” Jack clarified.

  Nico nodded. “He had no luggage, and he wouldn’t answer when I asked where he’d arrived from. I can only conclude I was spotted in the airport, and he was notified. He had to either have been in Heathrow already or at least London. Customs went quickly, then I ran into a friend and talked with him in the bar until his flight was called. Someone could have been keeping me in sight and reporting to Rollie if he was in transit.”

  “But no one actually tried to detain you,” Jack said.

  Nico shook his head.

  “Could your friend have been in on Rollie’s plan?”

  “No, I…” Nico’s brown eyes widened in comprehension. “I don’t know. But I will do some digging.”

  “Did Rollie take you away from the train? Or did he give you a meeting place for later?” I asked.

  “He wanted me to go immediately, but I said I couldn’t. I had a toothache. The dentist was getting me in for an emergency appointment. Before the dentist worked on my tooth, I called Jack, so I could be sure the phone line was clean.”

  Well, well. A toothache was why he cut off the conference call. It wasn’t just to jerk Jack’s chain like Cassie and I had thought. Now that I had the fuller picture, I had to marvel at Hawkes’s performance during and after the conference call and hang up.

  “Where did you meet later?” Jack asked.

  I crossed my arms and frowned, noticing Mr. Home Office didn’t ask if Nico notified authorities about Rollie being in the country. He apparently felt his knowing was enough. Though, to be honest, I would have done the same thing.

  “Heathrow. He had us booked on multiple flights, depending on when I arrived back. But I found a tracker one of his goons slipped into my jacket on the train. That’s why I couldn’t call you, Clive, or Patricia, and why I turned off my cell phone. I might have been followed or the call overheard. I figured Clive would contact you when I didn’t show for the pickup.”

  I nodded.

  “I left the tracker in my coat,” he said. “To stoke their confidence. But I can reverse the frequency.”

  Jack raised an eyebrow. “That could be handy.”

  “As could the little presents I left hibernating in their computer files,” Nico added, grinning. “However, with their over-paranoid system, once activated we will have a limited timeframe before either method is noticed. If they catch one, most likely they will ramp up defenses and soon detect the other one too.”

  “Good to know,” Jack said.

  “And good work on getting the bugs planted,” I said.

  I leaned toward Jack and whispered, “I know you can’t tell me anything, but I have to ask—was Rollie’s gun shipment part of the bigger thing…you know…or is he just trying to play with the big boys?”

  “Nothing can be determined until the shipment is traced.”

  “And you can’t tell us anyway.” Nico frowned.

  “Regardless,” Jack said, “gaining the shipment is a success. We don’t know what new information will fall out of the evidence trace, but if anything relates to art I’ll be able to bring that over.”

  Nico nodded an acknowledgment, but since I knew we weren’t going to learn any sensitive info, it was time to poke Jack again. “None of this explains why Cassie and I had to be kept totally in the dark.”

  Jack cocked an eyebrow. “Aren’t the pain meds supposed to knock you out? Or at least mellow you?”

  “They probably would if I’d taken them, but I plan to stay awake this entire flight,” I said, raising my own defiant eyebrow.

  “It was a solid plan,” Jack tried again.

  “The whole scheme between the two of you feels all ‘boys’ clubby.’ It would have been nice to not be sick with worry over Nico.”

  He pointed a finger as I spoke. “That’s exactly why neither of you could know. I tried to soften the stance some when we took the conference call with Cassie because I felt guilty about you thinking someone else had changed sides, but you both needed to be convinced he had it in him to turn.”

  “And the money?” I asked Nico.

  He shrugged. “Already back into the Beacham account. That wasn’t Jack’s idea, but it probably went a long way to magnify your concerns. Right?”

  I nodded.

  “It was important I show Rollie I was taking the assignment for selfish reasons rather than monetary ones,” he explained. “To make him believe the facts I presented: I was underappreciated, I was ready for new challenges, and I have no allegiance to Beacham. Or for whatever reason his suspicious mind thought up. I showed him my bank account didn’t need his money, but I let him know I expected top dollar because that is what I am used to.”

  “The money was a loan to make you look flush,” I said, then turned to Jack. “And Cassie and I couldn’t know in case Rollie had someone watching and so we would act appropriately female.”

  Jack did a calming motion with his hand. “I get that you’re mad—”

  “Mad does not begin to cover it.” I leaned close and my tone was quiet. Too quiet. Nico’s eyes widened; Jack’s narrowed. I said, “You aren’t taking this seriously enough. You may have both done all of this with the best of intentions, but neither of you thought it through. Just because you worried Rollie would be watching—”

  “Which from the way circumstances occurred, we can only conclude that he was,” Jack interrupted. “We needed you both to react as if you believed Nico was gone. Or at least didn’t know where he was and what he was doing.”

  I counted ten in my head. “So the messages on the boards—”

  “Was Nico playing rebel.”

  Nico’s expression darkened. “It didn’t seem right to not
at least let you know I was unhurt and felt like I could eventually escape. Since Rollie believed I’d signed on for the big payday, I didn’t want him to think I had contact with you so I could keep the tactic going. I didn’t know you’d need the money before the weekend, so I didn’t expect you to worry I’d stolen from the account. But I counted on you checking out the boards and seeing our code.”

  “The hardest thing I ever did was not catch a plane for Basel as soon as Cassie called about the message,” I said.

  “Proving my point,” Jack said.

  I ignored him and asked Nico, “When did you leave Basel for Barcelona?”

  “Everyone cleared out Saturday morning. When I had the run of the place, I did some digging. Then Rollie called and told me to join them in Barcelona, as he felt he needed me there instead. He sent a helicopter for me.”

  “Think he just wanted to keep an eye on you?”

  “Most likely. But he did need me to add security at the warehouse where he housed the guns. Unfortunately for him, I made them non-accessible to Team Rollie.”

  We all smiled, then Jack asked, “What about the copies from Calais? Did anyone in the group mention them?”

  “When Rollie finally mentioned them at all, he said something about Ermo Colle. But nothing conclusive,” Nico explained. “He didn’t say a lot about Colle or any forgeries, but what he did say points to a big rivalry going between the two. Moran seems to be out of the loop on this, which substantiates the belief that Rollie is working toward a coup.”

  “Did he mention getting a forgery of the Caravaggio stolen from Scotland Yard?” Jack asked.

  Nico shook his head. “I heard nothing about him securing a copy. If he had, I don’t know why he brought me in. Or…” He looked at both of us in turn, then finished. “Maybe I wasn’t supposed to survive either.”

  “Don’t know.” Jack massaged the back of his neck, sending a message much louder than his words. “We need to think about this.”

  Yeah, like no one had better do this again.

  “And the Amazon?” I asked, hoping I could learn why she was on my tail. “Was she in Barcelona to help Rollie? Or was she there on an assassination run?”

  Nico shook his head and blew out a long breath. “No one would talk about her. I even asked direct questions a couple of times, but the subject was immediately changed.”

  “Rollie is a master at the silent technique when he doesn’t want to reveal anything.” I thought back to the car ride and the time he’d spiked the wine. “So at the restaurant last night. He paid the waiter to come by and pour wine to drug me?”

  Nico said. “I only learned about the wine incident this morning, but I assume he will keep it up unless he no longer views you as a threat.”

  Jack looked at me. “That proves the Amazon works for Rollie, since we didn’t see him in the bar, and the restaurant wine incident happened so soon after. When she ran away, she reported our location and we were followed. Only possible conclusion.”

  “I agree,” I said. “Can’t I just tell him I don’t want to take part in his grandfather’s filthy business? I’ll hire a skywriter and make a completely public profession of the statement.”

  “But Moran’s the problem, right?” Jack looked at Nico. “Rollie has figured out his grandfather has reservations about leaving him the business, regardless of whether Laurel is related to the family or not.”

  Nico nodded slowly. Jack and I frowned.

  The only way we were going to solve this was to get Moran’s grandson locked up. Preferably soon to keep me from being sidelined while we worked on the next phase to stop the heist.

  At least our goal hadn’t changed, even if Rollie’s priorities had. The bigger question of the moment was “why?”

  “Humor me for a second, guys.” I winced as the plane hit a succession of air potholes and the jiggling made my leg scream. I took a sip of soda to cover the pain, then said, “Why would Rollie switch from trying to get me as an ally to trying to kill me?”

  “Because his grandfather is seeing what a psycho he is?” Nico said, then rolled his head to crack his neck. I could never stand when he did that, but it was all a side effect of the stress he felt from his loathing of air travel. “Anyone can pretend to be sane for a few months before the crazy starts to show.”

  I pulled gum from the Prada and offered him a fresh piece. “Maybe,” I said. “Or did he really try to have me killed?”

  Jack snorted. “Don’t tell me you’ve forgotten the bullet the trauma doctor took out of your leg? Or the follow-up questioning by the Barcelona police?”

  “I promise not to roll my eyes at what you say if you promise not to make scoffing noises until I finish with my thought,” I said.

  He gave me a sheepish grin. “You’re right. I apologize. Again.”

  Oh, this was going to be a fun trip, I thought. Plowing forward, I said, “Look at it from a different perspective. Could it be instead that I was to be kidnapped, with Giuseppe being shot in the apartment, and I got caught in the crossfire?”

  Then I thought about all the crossfire. Three different gunmen. Why send that many for what they presumed was one or two unarmed people? I shook my head. “They planned on killing someone, but they had too much manpower for what they would have presumed to likely be a simple job if I, an unarmed female, went to see Miguel.”

  “But you still got away from them,” Jack said. “They were exactly right not to underestimate you.”

  I felt heat in my cheeks. “Only because I had Giuseppe and his weapon as my wingman. Given the stiff Spanish laws about foreigners with firearms, they couldn’t have known he’d have a gun, even if they had intel pegging him as Italian law enforcement. They’d already put an entire takedown team of men in place, and they’d killed Miguel before we arrived.”

  “What are you saying?” Jack asked.

  I absently stroked my wounded left thigh, the leg stretched out into the aisle. There were a couple of things I needed to say, but I wasn’t sure exactly how to say them. “We weren’t hit until the end. How could all three gunmen be less than expert shots? Moran has never been sloppy, and I can’t imagine his grandson doesn’t have the connections to hire the best. When we came across Miguel’s body…” I stopped for a moment and took a couple of small breaths to force back the memory so I could speak. “In the apartment, I instinctively moved toward Miguel, to make sure he couldn’t be saved, while Giuseppe checked out the windows. He’s the one the gunman on the opposite roof saw. Giuseppe was the one who instigated the shots if it was based on sight. But if the gunman was supposed to shoot anyone who entered the apartment, he could have shot us in the open breezeway before we entered Miguel’s front door. Why didn’t the gunman do so?”

  “There was nothing beforehand?” Jack asked.

  My mind cast back to the bullet-riddled apartment we raced out of. Giuseppe saved my life by telling me to get down when he saw the gunman on the roof across the way. But while I had used the window for light, I wasn’t in the gunman’s view inside the apartment. Only Giuseppe was. Spraying the bullets to hit him risked hitting me, sure, but the guys with the guns were likely mercenaries, rather than rocket scientists.

  “No, nothing happened to warn us before we saw Miguel.” I leaned against the headrest and closed my eyes. “We had no interference until we set foot in the apartment. As if we were supposed to see that Miguel was killed. Then the bullets followed us as we made our escape. Giuseppe shot from the breezeway and hit the gunman on the roof. That was the only way we both escaped. We heard a cry and didn’t see him again. Then the second gunman, the one at the stairs, took over the chase.”

  “And you went up instead of down.”

  “Yes, using the roofs over the maze below to keep moving in the direction away from each gunman. But was it also the way they’d wanted us to go if we left at gunpoint? Seriously, the more I thin
k about it, the greater my feeling we were herded along the route. Like our running away was part of the plan.”

  Nico chuckled. “I cannot believe the gunmen planned to take the very difficult route you took them on. No one is such a masochist.”

  “I’m not saying it was their first choice, but when we saw the gunman on the stairs we ran the other way. Why didn’t they have a man in place to stop us from going up? Pin us down right there in the hall if they wanted to take us out?”

  Jack frowned. “Good point. So you think he sent the gunmen to kidnap you instead of kill you?”

  I shook my head.

  “I think he sent the gunmen there to take us. You and me, Jack. No way Rollie would know Giuseppe would go with me instead of you. I think they were trying to kill Giuseppe because he didn’t fit the job schematics. But Rollie wanted me to know first that my friend was dead. Dead because he worked with me. I also believe the shots I experienced were just to keep me off-balance instead of kill me. We always moved in a direction away from the gunmen, sure. But it felt like we were directed toward a specific point, like it was the same direction we would have gone if we’d left at gunpoint.”

  “Toward the avenue.” Jack’s eyes narrowed again. “Where they could have a vehicle.”

  “Still, all those gunshots,” Nico said. “Everyone heard. The police were called.”

  “Because it was the reserve plan. Not their plan of choice,” I said. “This is just a hypothesis, I know, but it makes sense once you consider all that happened and in what order. And while it seemed like Giuseppe and I were in the middle of it for hours, it couldn’t have lasted longer than five minutes. An eternity for those of us running away from the bullets, but a very short amount of actual time. And worth the risk to Rollie. Especially if it meant capturing me—and you, Jack, if Giuseppe hadn’t gone instead.”

  Jack nodded. “Makes sense based on the police report. The time the calls came in. When they arrived. What they found. How many would you say Giuseppe shot and do you think any of the gunmen were killed by his gun?”

  I massaged my forehead with my fingers. “One guy didn’t get up after he was shot, but I think Giuseppe only wounded the other two.”