by Joel Goldman
“Then why did you recruit me?”
“Because you were perfect for the job. Smart, beautiful. No family. No ties. No complications. Except for me. After Bosnia, Prometheus said he didn’t need me anymore. He paid me for the Bosnia job and gave me a bonus.”
“Which was?”
“A warning that if I didn’t keep my mouth shut about his operation, he’d finish what Petrescu started.”
Cassie didn’t say anything for a moment, absorbing what Gabriel had said, then changed gears. “What are you doing in London?”
“You first.” He gestured toward Jake. “Who’s this clown and why did you send him looking for me when you thought I was dead?”
“Hey, buddy,” Jake said. “That’s Mr. Clown to you.”
Gabriel grimaced. “Where did you get him?”
Cassie sighed. “I know. It’s a long story. If you don’t untie him, he’ll only get more obnoxious.”
Gabriel used his knife to slice through Jake’s handcuffs. “It’s still your turn, Cassie. Why are you looking for me?”
“You have something I want.”
“What could I possibly have that you want?”
“Four things, actually,” Jake said.
“The Magna Cartas you and your friends stole from the British Library,” Cassie added.
Gabriel raised his hands in protest. “How could you possibly…”
“Don’t even,” Cassie said. She pulled the Bristol-Clarke mask from her messenger bag. “We found your escape hatch in the basement of the library and tracked you through the sewer. You left this behind. A camera at the used car dealer across from the York station got a great shot of you climbing over the fence.”
“Well, I was right about one thing. You were perfect for the job but I don’t have the Magna Cartas. I don’t know where they are and even if I did, I wouldn’t try to get them back. They’re not worth getting killed over.”
“What about Aramis,” Jake asked. “Does he know where they are?” Gabriel’s eyes flickered for an instant before he caught himself. It was enough for Jake. “So, which one of the Musketeers are you - Porthos or Athos?”
Gabriel looked at Cassie. “Not bad for a clown,” she said.
“Athos,” Gabriel said, “not that it matters.”
“It doesn’t,” Jake said. “In the unlikely event you’re telling the truth, we’ll settle for telling us who’s playing D’artagnan. You know, the fourth Musketeer, the guy who didn’t want to crawl through the sewer. He’ll know where the Magna Cartas are.”
Gabriel ignored him and put his hands on Cassie’s shoulders. “You’ve got to trust me. This job’s too big for you. I can’t tell you how happy I am that you’re alive and I want you stay that way.”
She turned out of his reach. “What about Pugh, Galloway and Bristol-Clarke? Are they still alive or have you graduated from grand theft to murder?”
“They were fine when I last saw them. I don’t know where they are now but I was told they would be released soon.”
“They better be. And, you know I’m not going to back off. The question is why did you sign on for a caper like this? You’re a better man than that.”
“Was a better man, though I’m not even sure about that. My skill set is not exactly transferable to the corporate world. And, the money spends the same. Something you should consider. Don’t throw your life away chasing after the Magna Cartas. Whoever hired us to steal them is probably going to tuck them away somewhere only he can see them.”
“Then why the ransom note demanding a hundred million pounds by Friday?” Jake said.
“I don’t know anything about a ransom note. That was never part of the plan. It had to have been Aramis. He hung back for a minute after we grabbed the Magna Cartas. He’s probably free-lancing and taking a helluva chance at that. Shaw will have his head.”
“Who’s Shaw?” Cassie said.
“It’s his operation but the name is just another name. I have no idea who he is. I’m telling you…no, I’m begging you, Cassie, to leave this alone.”
“Don’t worry about her,” Jake said. “She blew Petrescu away because she thought he killed you. I think she can handle Shaw.”
Gabriel stared at Cassie whose eyes filled with tears. He hung his head and ambled toward a pillar in the center of the room. He braced himself against it and stared at her again.
“Pity,” he said and the room went black.
“Hey,” Jake called out. “Cassie? What happened? Are you alright?”
Using her cellphone’s light, Cassie navigated to the pillar where she’d last seen Gabriel. Jake did the same. They shined their lights up and down its length.
“Here,” Cassie said. She flipped a switch mounted in a recessed cavity on the pillar and the overhead lights came on.
“He’s gone,” Jake said.
“Of course. Vanishing is what he does best.”
“What now?” Jake said.
Cassie opened an app on her phone. “We give him a head start.”
Jake looked at her screen. The app showed a GPS display of the surrounding streets and a blinking red triangle as it advanced along Knightsbridge before turning off onto a side street where it soon turned again before coming to a stop.
“You’re tracking him? How is that possible?”
She reached into her jeans pocket and showed him a tiny, wafer thin disc with an adhesive on the back. “I put one of these on his jacket when I hugged him.”
“But how did you know we’d find him and you’d want to tag him like that?”
“I didn’t. These are so I don’t lose track of you. There’s one under your collar. I put it there when I fitted you with the earpiece. You were too excited to notice.”
Jack ran his fingers across the fabric, feeling the tag under his thumb. “Huh, so I’m what, like a fish you catch and release so you can follow me through the wild?”
“Yeah. I like watching you swim upstream.” She looked at her screen again. “Gabriel stopped a couple of blocks from here. We’ll keep our distance until he starts moving again.”
They left the building and followed Gabriel’s path, stopping where he turned off Knightsbridge.
Jake said, “He hasn’t moved an inch.”
“You’re right.” Cassie frowned and studied her phone, then jammed it into her pocket. “That bastard!”
She broke into a run with Jake chasing after her until they reached a Dumpster in an alley off a side street near Knightsbridge. Gabriel’s jacket lay rumpled on a pile of garbage.
“You’re right,” Jake said. “Vanishing is what he does.”
THIRTY-ONE
“WHERE IS THAT WOMAN?” Sir Robert muttered as he checked his Rolex.
It was eight minutes after the scheduled time for the Trustees’ meeting and the second time they’d gathered since the robbery. They were all there, except for Lady Liliane Tresch who had summoned them.
“You know our Lady Lili,” said Alexander Crossley. “She called the meeting for ten a.m. and you know she loves a dramatic entrance.”
Lady Liliane swept into the conference room three minutes later. “Do forgive me. The roads are beastly today.” Then she looked back at someone standing just outside the door. “Come in, my dear.”
Sarah St. James stepped into the room, her eyes wary. Lady Tresch enjoyed Sir Robert’s jaw dropping reaction, then turned to the others.
“You all know Dr. St. James from her marvelous work on the exhibit. She has also been working with the agent Sir Robert so graciously engaged without consulting us to recover the Magna Cartas.”
“How did you…?” Sir Robert began, as a surprised murmur passed through the room.
Liliane favored him with a smile. “Secrets are such hard things to keep, Robert. It was quite simple. Your agent had to work with someone who knew everything about the exhibit and the Magna Cartas. After you told us that dim bulb, Ian Thorpe, couldn’t be trusted, Dr. St. James was the only logical choice. As this concerns all
of us, I thought we’d appreciate hearing a progress report on the recovery effort.”
She fixed her dark eyes on Sarah, who returned them with her own steady gaze before breaking off to look at the others.
“All right,” Sarah began. “It appears that three security guards were involved in the theft and now they’ve gone missing. Most likely, they we’re working from information obtained from Malcolm Bridges at Titan Security Systems.”
“What? Bridges?” Sir Robert said, his face reddening.
“Yes. He quit his job rather abruptly and now I’m afraid he’s dead,” Sarah said. “The police said he was strangled.”
Lady Tresch said, “So now we know the kind of people we’re dealing with. Sir Robert, if this agent of yours fails to recover the Magna Cartas before the ransom deadline…”
“She won’t,” Sarah interjected. “I have every confidence in her ability to get the Magna Cartas back safely and...”
“My dear. I most fervently hope that you’re correct. Like the Magna Cartas, your future depends upon it. I suggest we reconvene at five-thirty this afternoon for another update from our curator.”
Sir Robert straightened and cleared his throat. “Very well. However, we must be prepared for the worst. To that end, I have opened a secure account at my bank in which I’ve deposited my share of the ransom.” He passed out slips of paper to each of them. “This is the information you’ll need to wire your funds into the account in the unlikely event…” He glanced at Sarah. “… that we’re obliged to pay the ransom. I suggest you do so immediately so there are no last-minute delays. If it comes to it, I’ll transfer the funds as we’re instructed and we’ll await the return the Magna Cartas.”
“If they’re in a generous mood,” Lord Sommerton muttered.
Sir Robert said. “It’s all we can do.”
THIRTY-TWO
A FIRE ESCAPE ENDED six feet above the Dumpster where Cassie and Jake found Gabriel’s jacket. She slammed the Dumpster’s lid down and vaulted onto the steel surface, then jumped and grabbed the bottom rung of the ladder.
“Where the hell are you going?” Jake asked.
“To the roof. Maybe I’ll be able to see him from there.” She pulled herself up one rung at a time. “Get back on Knightsbridge,” she said over her shoulder. “If I find him, I’ll tell you where to go. Once you’ve got him, keep your distance until I’ll catch up with you.”
The building was four stories tall. Cassie swung her legs onto the flat, asphalt covered roof. A waist-high brick wall wrapped around the perimeter. She pulled a small pair of binoculars from her bag. Racing from one side to the next, she scanned the streets below. There was no sign of Gabriel until she saw a hatless man, hands in his pockets, strolling down the street like he had no better place to be. He stopped in front of a shop window with a mirrored display giving her a clear view of his face. It was Gabriel.
“Jake, I’ve got him.”
“Where?”
Cassie studied the GPS display on her phone. “He’s heading east on a side street between Kinnerton and Wilton Place.”
“I’m almost to Wilton.”
“Great. Go south on Wilton. He’s wearing a brown sweater and tan pants. Let me know when you’ve got a visual.”
Thirty seconds passed. “Okay,” Jake said. “I see him. He’s on Wilton a block ahead of me.”
“Hang back. I’m on my way.”
***
WILTON PLACE WAS a two-lane street lined on both sides with apartment buildings three to five stories high. Trees and shrubs dotted the front of the buildings, none tall or wide enough to provide cover for Jake.
To keep Gabriel in sight, Jake hustled between parked cars, popping up when Gabriel wasn’t looking until he saw him turn into the courtyard for St. Paul’s church further down on Wilton. A double-decker bus churned past heading toward the church with tourists hanging over the sides and snapping pictures. Jake trotted behind the bus, using it for cover.
A white panel van bearing a logo for Spark Electrical Service was parked at the corner across the street from the church. Jake waited there, peeking around the back end. The bus stopped in front of the church and the passengers climbed down and streamed inside. There was no sign of Gabriel.
Until Jake turned around and Gabriel grabbed him by the throat and slammed him against the side of the van. Pinning him with one hand, Gabriel snagged Jake’s earpiece, threw it on the ground and crushed it under his heel.
“You’re terrible at this,” Gabriel said.
Bug-eyed and gasping, Jake launched his knee at Gabriel’s crotch but Gabriel clamped his free hand on Jake’s thigh, blocking him and squeezing his throat and his leg until Jake threw up his hands in surrender.
Gabriel released him. “I mean really terrible.”
Jake caught his breath. “What can I tell you. Rookie mistake.” He straightened his collar and threw himself at Gabriel, wrapping him in a bear hug. Gabriel head-butted him. Seeing stars, Jake let go and slid to the pavement.
Gabriel crouched in front of him, cupping Jake’s chin and gently patting his face until Jake’s eyes focused.
“I’m only going to tell you this once so pay close attention.” Jake nodded. “If I see you again, I’ll kill you. Understood?” Jake nodded again. “Say it.”
“Understood.”
“Good lad. Now lie down on your stomach and crawl under the van and stay there until Cassie finds you.”
“Go to hell.”
“I’m afraid that was decided long ago.”
Gabriel smacked Jake in the jaw with a furious backhand, knocking him over. Jake rose to his knees and drove his head and shoulders at Gabriel’s legs. Gabriel sidestepped him, letting Jake flop onto the concrete. He helped Jake to his feet and propped him against the van. Jake was woozy and slack, his arms hanging at his sides.
“You give up yet?” Jake asked.
Gabriel shook his head, slid the van’s door open and shoved Jake inside. Tools and coils of electrical wire were stacked on a rack welded to the opposite side of the van. Gabriel cut two lengths of wire and tied Jake’s wrists to the rack.
“Goodbye, Jake. And remember what I told you,” Gabriel said, then slammed the van’s door shut.
Jake tugged at his wrists, quitting when he realized he was only tightening the knots. He could reach the van door with his legs and began kicking, hoping the racket would attract attention. Moments later, the door slid open. It was Cassie.
“Get me out of here,” he said.
Hands on her hips, Cassie said. “I should probably leave you. What part of keeping your distance didn’t you understand?”
“The part about him sneaking up on me. How did you find me?”
Cassie picked up a pair of wire shears and cut him loose. “I heard a racket in my earpiece like you’d hit your head. When you didn’t answer, I ran to where the tracker said you were when I heard the noise. What happened?”
“He’s tougher than he looks.”
“Well, you’ve got a knot on your forehead big as a quarter and a welt on your cheek to remind you.”
Jake climbed out of the van. “If he thinks he can scare me off by threatening to kill me…”
“Save it, Jake. He probably will kill you the next time except there isn’t going to be a next time since we have no way to find him.”
“Open the app you were using to track me.”
Cassie tapped her phone. Her eyes widened as she watched the blinking red triangle advance across the screen. She looked at Jake. “How did you…”
“I pulled the tracker off my collar and tagged him when I did the bear hug thing. He won’t notice it until he takes his sweater off. Maybe not even then.”
A smile spread across Cassie’s face. “Let’s go nail the bastard.”
THIRTY-THREE
GABRIEL STOPPED AT HYDE PARK CORNER. “That’s three-tenths of a mile from here,” Cassie said, consulting the GPS map on her phone. “Wherever he’s going, he won’t take
a direct route. He’ll switch between walking, taking a cab or the bus or the tube or all of them to make sure he’s not being followed. This would be a lot easier if we had our own car.”
“There’s a cab parked across the street,” Jake said.
“Where to, mate?”, the driver said when they climbed into the back seat.
The registration clipped to the dashboard said his name was Derek McNulty. He had a ruddy complexion, lively eyes and a bushy mustache that stretched jowl to jowl. He wore his tweed cap pulled down to his eyebrows.
Jake said, “We don’t know but we can give you directions. This might take a while. Hope you don’t mind.”
“I’ve got all the time you need so long as my meter’s running.”
Cassie sighed and leaned back against the seat. She handed Jake her phone and closed her eyes for a moment.
Jake told McNulty, “Let’s start with Hyde Park Corner but don’t get too close.”
Cassie opened her eyes. Jake offered her the phone but she shook her head. “You’re the navigator.”
