All Gone

by Joel Goldman

  “I do hope you’re having a nice evening,” he said.

  “Yes, I am.”

  “I’m so glad to hear it.” He offered her a white gloved hand and she took it. “Lord William Tresch.”

  “Katherine York. This is a lovely event and for such a deserving cause.”

  “So kind of you to say. The foundation’s work is quite gratifying but none of it would be possible without our generous donors. Tonight’s affair is our way of thanking them.”

  “And warming them up for your next solicitation.”

  Tresch smiled. “Ah, yes. Our guests know that their tickets to the ball are the least expensive part of the evening. After dinner, I’ll give a rousing speech complete with testimonials from starving children whose lives we’ve saved after which our benefactors will fight to see who can make the largest pledge.” He paused, shook his head and reached inside his long coat to retrieve his cellphone from his right hip. “Please accept my apologies. I hate these damn things but they’ve become an irritating and unavoidable necessity.”

  “Of course.”

  Tresch turned away. Cassie looked around the room for Jake but another guest caught her attention. A woman wearing a pale blue brocade dress and a towering, powdered white wig, decorated with ribbons, gems and a single peacock feather on top. She was Marie Antoinette to Tresch’s Louis XVI and she was glaring at him with guillotine eyes.

  “Is everything alright?” Cassie asked when Tresch ended the call.

  “It seems there’s a shortage of foie gras. The chef wishes to substitute Beluga caviar but hesitates to make so monumental a decision without my approval.”

  Cassie chuckled. “Heavy lies Your Majesty’s crown. That woman across the way dressed as your queen has not taken her eyes off you and, if you don’t mind my saying so, her gaze is not a warm one.”

  Lord Tresch’s back stiffened when he saw who she was looking at. “Are you married, Ms. York.”

  “No.”

  “Then you must avoid it at all costs. That woman is my wife until her lawyers finish pecking the flesh from my bones. Now, about the foundation. Perhaps I can encourage you to join our cause.”

  Cassie cocked her head to one side, then emptied her glass. “Perhaps you might ask me to dance first. I’m much more pliable after champagne and a waltz.”

  “I’d be delighted.”

  He led her to the center of the dance floor. She made eye contact with Jake, letting him know to get ready. He approached a young woman whose ample breasts were blossoming from her hand maiden’s dress and escorted her onto the dance floor. Cassie gave him a raised eyebrow review of his choice. He responded with a shrug and a grin, then spun and twirled his partner to within a few feet of her.

  Cassie leaned her head back, closed her eyes for an instant, then opened them and let out a breath. “Oh, my. I’m afraid I may have had a bit too much champagne.” She stumbled and braced herself with her right hand on Tresch’s shoulder while slipping her left inside his long coat and lifting his phone from his hip. Tresch propped her up until she straightened and shook her head.

  “Are you alright, Ms. York?”

  Cassie smiled wanly. “Embarrassed but otherwise fine, William.”

  Tresch’s eyes lit up. “I’m so glad, Katherine.”

  Cassie swept her hand across his back, signaling Jake.

  FORTY-SEVEN

  DON’T LOOK AT YOUR HAND, Jake repeated to himself. Look at… For a moment, he blanked on his partner’s name. Anya.

  He focused on Anya’s deep brown eyes as they waltzed toward Cassie. When she reached down to adjust her voluminous skirt, he lifted his hand from Anya’s back and let it drop to hip level as they whirled past Cassie and Tresch, feeling his fingers brush hers as he took the phone. He palmed it, tucked it into the waistband of his puffy jester pants and returned his hand to his partner’s back in one smooth motion. The maneuver had been flawless and he was grateful for a lifetime of keeping a poker face.

  Jake escorted Anya to the edge of the dance floor where he bowed and kissed her hand. “If you’ll excuse me.”

  He went to a room designated on the floor plans as the china closet. Inside, he pushed a stack of dishes out of the way and laid Tresch’s phone alongside his, then turned on the app. A little spinning ball appeared as the two phones synced.

  When the download was complete, he hid the burner inside his waistband and palmed Tresch’s phone. Back in the ballroom, Jake found Cassie in her red dress. She was laughing at something Lord Tresch must have said. Their eyes met and he nodded, telling her he was ready.

  He couldn’t find Anya. Then he saw Marie Antoinette wearing an elaborate wig and blue dress that matched Lord Tresch’s Louis XVI outfit. Giving himself five-to-one odds that she was Lady Tresch, he approached her and bowed deeply, the bells on his hat jingling as they brushed the floor.

  “Your Majesty.”

  When he looked up, she was smiling. “My loyal subject.”

  “Loyal and true. May I request the honor of a dance?”

  He held out a hand and she took it.

  “You may.”

  They danced to a slow sonata. “I must say, Mr. Carter, I’m surprised to see you here.”

  Jake had several first rules of poker. One was to never act surprised when the unexpected card turned up. “And, why is that, Lady Tresch?”

  “Well done, Mr. Carter. Aren’t you going to ask how I knew it was you?”

  “I don’t need to. You knew my name because you’re a trustee of the Magna Carta Trust and you knew what I looked like because you found photographs of me on Google.”

  “But none with a mask,” she said.

  “Batman wore a mask and everyone except the Joker knew he was Bruce Wayne. You’re a good fiduciary. You did your homework.”

  She nodded. “And my fiduciary duty requires that I ask what you are doing at my husband’s gala.”

  “I just got fired. Can’t go to Disney World so I chose the next best thing.”

  “Ah, Mr. Carter. I do hope you’re a better poker player than you are a detective, or whatever you and Ms. Ireland call yourselves. You were fired and yet you’re still on the job. I’ll ascribe that to strength of character. I’m more interested in knowing why you’re here, dancing with me while your partner is dancing with my husband. One might think you suspect he is somehow connected to the theft of the Magna Cartas.”

  Cassie maneuvered Lord Tresch toward them. Jake passed Tresch’s phone to her as she swept by while the Lord and Lady pretended not to notice one another. He kept his eyes on Lady Tresch as they made the switch.

  “Should we suspect him?”

  “I’m hardly an unbiased source.”

  “Doesn’t mean you’d be wrong.”

  “William is an unfaithful spendthrift. I suspect that from time to time he’s acquired…valuables…whose provenance is suspect or, at best, obscure. I don’t know whether that makes him a criminal or just clever. I’m afraid I wouldn’t begin to know how one would carry out such a crime so I can’t say whether he would have the necessary resources but I daresay he lacks the courage.”

  “Could he have taken advantage of your position to learn about the security for the exhibit?”

  “How do you mean?”

  “If you had any information about it on your personal computer, he could have had someone hack into it.”

  She stopped dancing and guided him by the hand to a quiet corner. “Some months ago, he was at my flat during one of the few moments we haven’t been at each other’s throats during this nasty business. He insisted on coming over in the hopes that we could reach an agreement without the lawyers. He arrived before me. I’d forgotten that he had a key. I found him in my office at my computer. He had one of those things you stick in the side of the computer….”

  “A flash drive?”

  “Yes. That’s it. He yanked it out as soon as he saw me. I thought he was after my financial records or email. The trustees were provided with confide
ntial information about the exhibit including the security. It was on my computer. It never occurred to me that he could have been after that. In any case, I got so angry that I threw him out. My lawyers demanded that he disclose what information he’d stolen.”

  “And did he?”

  “Yes. But there was nothing about the Library or the Magna Carta exhibit.” She paused and took a deep breath. “What he did wasn’t honorable. What he found wasn’t either. Emails and text messages between me and a certain gentleman. My husband and I both abused our vows.”

  “We’ve all done things we regret.”

  “Indeed. I regret letting him keep that key.”

  Jake looked past her, watching Lord Tresch and Cassie leave the dance floor for the other side of the ballroom. Tresch reached for his phone and pressed it against his ear, glancing toward the hall leading to the china closet. Jake followed his gaze, locking onto the hulking figure of Max Dekker standing in the shadows wearing all black. Jake recognized his costume. He’d come to the party as an executioner.

  FORTY-EIGHT

  “FORGIVE ME, KATHERINE,” Lord Tresch said when he ended the call. “There’s something I must attend to.”

  “William, don’t tell me the chef has run out of foie gras and Beluga?”

  “Nothing that serious. Promise you won’t move from this spot.”

  Cassie pressed her palm against his chest. “I promise you won’t have to look for me.”

  She watched Tresch circle the dance floor, then step into the same corridor Jake had used. Scanning the ballroom, she saw Jake on the other side chatting with Lady Tresch. They’d come to the gala to copy Lord Tresch’s phone and that job was done. Sticking around hoping to find something more was risky. She’d seen half a dozen security guards and assumed there were others. They were unarmed and outnumbered. It was time to signal Jake and slip away.

  The exit was behind her. She turned around and ran into a man decked out in forest green, his face hidden by a black mask covering his eyes and a hooded cloak. He stood there, blocking her.

  Cassie smoothed her dress and said, “Out of my way, Robin Hood.”

  “Cassie,” he said and she froze. She knew that voice as well as her own.

  “Gabriel. How did you…”

  “It takes more than a mask for you to hide from me.”

  She straightened, regaining her composure. “You weren’t invited. How did you get in?”

  “I borrowed my costume from one of the guests. Like that job we did in Melbourne, remember?”

  She did. She also remembered the long, sleepless night they spent together after the job.

  Gabriel pressed her. “What the hell are you doing here?”

  “My job.”

  He took her by the arms. “Dammit, Cassie, I told you to let this go.”

  She grabbed his wrists and broke his hold. “You, of all people, don’t get to tell me what to do.”

  “If Dekker sees you, you’re dead.”

  “Dekker? Last time I saw him, he was out cold at the warehouse. The police should have carried him out of there.”

  “He’s a hard man to put down.” Gabriel tipped his head toward the far side of the ballroom. Cassie glanced over her shoulder and saw Dekker dressed as an executioner and standing at the entrance to the corridor where she’d last seen Lord Tresch.

  “The costume certainly fits. Why are you here? Dekker won’t be glad to see you.”

  “I’m not going to spend the rest of my life on the run from Shaw.”

  “Meaning what?”

  “Meaning I’m going to persuade Shaw not to kill me.”

  “What if he won’t listen to reason?”

  “Then I’ll make sure he can’t kill me.”

  If all Gabriel cared about was saving his own skin, he was of no use to her. But if he wanted to make things right between them, they might yet be able to work together.

  “And the Magna Cartas?”

  “One problem at a time. I can’t do anything about that if I’m dead.”

  His answer was encouraging but she needed more if she was going to trust him. “But you don’t know who Shaw is or how to find him.”

  “That’s why I’ve been following Dekker. I knew that he’d eventually lead me to Shaw.”

  “And has he?”

  Gabriel looked at her. “You don’t really expect me to give you the first crack at him.”

  “That’s exactly what I expect. You owe me.”

  He nodded. “You’re right. I do owe you. And I can never pay my debt. But, you can’t win this one. I can get to Shaw but you can’t. Whatever you’re planning, he’s already thought of it.”

  “Then help me think of something he hasn’t.”

  He was quiet for a moment, his dark eyes fixed on hers. Cassie felt a stirring of hope. Then he said, “You know I can’t.”

  She was disappointed but not surprised. He hadn’t changed and never would. “You mean, you won’t.”

  Before he could say anything else, Jake joined them and asked Cassie, “Who’s your friend?”

  Gabriel said, “Walk away, Jake. This doesn’t concern you.”

  “Well, look at you,” Jake said. “The Walking Dead returns. Listen, Gabe, Cassie and I are a team so whatever…”

  Cassie stopped him. She’d give Gabriel one last chance. “It’s okay. He was about to tell us who Shaw is.”

  “We don’t need his help. Lord Tresch is Shaw. I just saw him talking to Dekker and…oh, shit.” Jake aimed his thumb behind Cassie. “Not good. We’re busted. The Executioner is on his way over here and he’s bringing his buddies.”

  Dekker and two other black-clad enforcers were crossing the dance floor. Dekker reached inside his vest, drew a gun and palmed it against his side.

  “This way,” Gabriel said.

  They hustled toward the double-swinging doors leading to the kitchen. Two butlers the size of refrigerators lingering near the doors intercepted them. Dekker caught up to them.

  He pushed Gabriel’s hood back and pulled his mask off, then grinned. “I can’t fuckin’ believe it. You’ve got some kind of stones showing up here. Not much in the way of brains, though.” He turned to Cassie and yanked off her mask. “I see you’ve brought along your bit of quim.” Finally, he looked at Jake, laughing as he took in the jester outfit. “And the tragic clown. Brilliant.” He snatched Jake’s jester hat and handed it to one of the butlers. “Hang on to his hat. We’ll fill it with what’s left of him when we’re done.” Then he motioned to the three of them. “You’ll be coming with us now.”

  Cassie said, “I promised Lord Tresch that I wouldn’t move from this spot. He won’t be happy if I’m not here when he gets back.”

  “Funny you say that because I promised his Lordship I wouldn’t let any uninvited guests ruin his party. He was none too happy when I told him that Katherine York wasn’t your real name.”

  Jake stood his ground, looking around at the crowd of guests. “Wow. Look at all these witnesses. I’ll bet none of them have ever seen a triple murder.”

  The big man stepped closer, pulling out a six-inch knife and pressed the blade against his ribs. “Then I’ll have to be real quiet-like, won’t I?”

  Jake didn’t move. “Not me. I’m a real screamer.”

  Cassie pulled him away from Dekker. “Not here. Bad odds.”

  Dekker laughed. “And I’ll wager they won’t be getting any better.”

  FORTY-NINE

  DEKKER LED THEM SINGLE-FILE down a long, chilly hallway. Cassie was behind Jake and Gabriel followed her. They were flanked by two guards on either side pointing handguns at them. Dekker was right. The odds of getting out of the castle alive were dropping with every step they took.

  Their costumes made matters worse. Her dress was made for show, not fighting and Jake’s upturned jester shoes were a slip and fall waiting to happen.

  Cassie eyed the suits of armor once worn by long dead knights that lined the corridor, each with its own weapons. There we
re swords, pikes, battle hammers, maces and daggers close enough to touch but there were too many guards with too many guns for her to reach for one.

  Jake tapped Dekker on the shoulder and stopped walking. Everyone else did the same. She and Gabriel were standing between two suits of armor, one on each side of the hall. Cassie bit her lip. Jake was making a play. She wished she knew what it was.

  Dekker turned around and scowled. “What is it, Jester?”

  “Hang on a second. These goofy shoes are killing me.” He pulled them off and tossed them to the side. “That’s better. Now, first of all, I’m sorry about smacking you in the head back at the warehouse. I snuck up on you and that wasn’t really fair.”