All Gone

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All Gone Page 24

by Joel Goldman


  “Have it your way. Do it yourself.” Dekker glanced at the case, then at Cassie, his

  brow furrowed for a moment, hesitating. “C’mon. Let’s get this over with. There’s a latch on the front. Even someone as stupid as you can open it.”

  Glaring at her, he dropped to one knee, set his gun in front of him and tilted the case with both hands. In a flash, Cassie had the Glock aimed at Dekker.

  “Hands and knees,” she told him. He looked up at her and started to make a grab for his gun. “Do it. Please. Do it so I can blow your fucking head off.”

  “Bloody hell, bitch.”

  “Bloody right, dumb shit. Hand and knees, then scoot back.” Dekker crawled five feet away from her. “That’s far enough. Turn around.” Cassie pocketed his gun, a Sig Sauer P226 9 mm., and picked up the case. “Take me to Tresch and if you try anything or if anything has happened to Jake or Gabriel or if I just get tired of looking at your fat ass, I’m going to put a bullet in your spine. Now, move.”

  Dekker led Cassie past a parade of shops, restaurants and bars all closed for the night until they reached a storefront for a tea shop on the outer edge of the shopping district. They continued around to the rear of the building. Dekker entered a code on a keypad and a double garage door opened.

  Inside was the black Mercedes sedan Dekker had used when he drove her into the city for the ransom exchange. She touched the hood. The engine was cold. Next to it was a BMW i8, a low-slung powerhouse sports coupe. The hood was warm, the engine still ticking. The tinted windows prevented her from seeing inside.

  “Whose car is that?” Cassie asked.

  Dekker shook his head. “The Pope’s. Fuck if I know. Over here.” He nodded toward an ancient freight elevator with wooden doors that opened top-to-bottom instead of side-to-side. He pushed them apart, stepped in and turned around, facing her. “You wanted to see Tresch. This is how we do it.”

  Cassie waved her gun at him. “Face in the corner, hands in your back pockets. Turn around before I tell you and…”

  “Yeah, yeah, yeah. You’re gonna put a bullet in me spine. Don’t miss because you won’t get a second chance,” he said.

  Cassie pulled the elevator doors closed and examined the control panel. There were only two buttons, B and G. They were on the ground level. She pushed B. The elevator descended, gears whining, the car swaying like a swing in a breeze until it came to a stop. She opened the doors and backed out into a short, wide corridor that ended at the intersection with another hallway.

  “Okay,” she told him. “Out you go. Nice and easy. Keep your hands where I can see them.” Dekker faced her, hands raised chest high, grinning like he’d won the lottery. “What are you so happy about?”

  Cassie felt the barrel of a gun against the back of her neck.

  “He’s just glad to see me,” Lady Liliane Tresch said. “Put your gun and the briefcase on the floor. And do not doubt for one second that I’ll pull the trigger if you refuse.”

  She jammed the barrel of her gun into the base of Cassie’s skull. Cassie silently cursed herself for having let Lady Tresch fool her.

  “I believe you,” she said and set both down.

  “Uhh,” Dekker said. “She’s…ah… got another gun.”

  “Is that right, Cassie?”

  Cassie nodded. “It’s Dekker’s. I made him give it up.”

  “Dekker, really now,” Lady Tresch said. “How could you?”

  He blushed and clenched his jaw. “Won’t happen again, m’lady.”

  “I should think not. Cassie, don’t be difficult. You know what to do.”

  Cassie took the Sig from her jacket pocket, holding it by the barrel, and laid it next to the Glock. As soon as she stood, Dekker smacked her across the face with the back of his hand. The blow staggered her, but she kept her feet. He raised his hand to hit her again.

  “That’s enough for now,” Lady Tresch said. “You’ll have another chance soon enough. Come along, Cassie. It’s time for our reunion.”

  They walked side-by-side. Dekker followed, his gun trained on Cassie.

  “So, you were in it from the beginning,” Cassie said.

  “In it,” Lady Tresch said with a chuckle, “I was the beginning. It was my idea. I cultivated Malcolm Bridges and provided all the information necessary to steal the Magna Cartas. Then, I made sure the Trustees saw me as the hardliner who’d never pay a dime of ransom because I knew they didn’t have the balls to say no. That allowed me to reluctantly go along when they gave in to our demands.”

  “And your ugly divorce, was that part of the plan?”

  “Not at first. I loathe my husband and he returns the favor. But that doesn’t mean we can’t be useful to one another. When I broached the subject, he jumped at the opportunity. We both needed the money, despite any outward appearances. I came up with the plan and he had the underworld connections to recruit our team. Then we told our lawyers to escalate our war so that no one would suspect that we were working together.”

  “How does someone in your position suddenly turn to crime?”

  “Oh, this wasn’t my maiden voyage, dear. I’ve done many things you wouldn’t approve of. That’s how I achieved my position. But, ransoming the Magna Cartas has given me enough money to live a quiet, luxurious life away from all these pompous Lords and Ladies.”

  “As long as your husband doesn’t cheat you out of your share.”

  “I assumed from the start that he would try so I made certain that Dekker would be fiercely loyal to me by paying him twice what he did and by seeing that his appetite for young girls was always satisfied.”

  Cassie wanted to puke at the thought of Dekker and those poor girls but she held her revulsion and anger in check.

  “Except Dekker didn’t save you when those men forced you into that car after the costume ball. Your husband called it an unamicable settlement of your divorce.”

  “I called it a pleasant drive with Dekker’s cousins. They took good care of me and told my husband what he wanted to hear.”

  “Is that your BMW in the garage?”

  “Yes. My newest toy. Dekker called me as soon as he knew you were on the way with the Codex and I came right over.”

  “Lord Tresch will be surprised to see you.”

  “And that,” Lady Tresch said, “is what makes for a good reunion.”

  Cassie thought for a moment. “Was stealing the Codex always part of the plan?”

  “No, but I wasn’t surprised when Dekker told me about it. My husband couldn’t stand that I was the one who’d put the job together. He always had to prove that he was smarter and bolder than me. I would never have agreed to taking such a foolish risk. And I never would have let you and your friends leave the castle alive.”

  “Your husband tried to kill us but it didn’t work out for him,” Cassie said.

  Lady Tresch shook her head. “Sometimes I think he’d fail at falling down.”

  “Was the money worth having Malcolm Bridges and the Library guards murdered?”

  She stopped, put her hand on Cassie’s arm and stared at her with cold, steely eyes.

  “They’re dead, aren’t they. I was protecting what was mine.”

  “Is that what you’ll say when Dekker kills us?”

  “No, my dear. I’ll simply say goodbye.”

  SIXTY-THREE

  LADY TRESCH LED CASSIE to the edge of the vaulted catacomb chamber where Lord Tresch was waiting. They were in the shadows beyond the perimeter, able to see without being seen.

  The all brick chamber was a hundred feet across, the ceiling surrounded by supporting pillars. Tresch was opposite Cassie, pacing and looking at his watch.

  Jake was propped against a pillar on her right, his hands and feet bound with rope. A man with an AR-15 semi-automatic rifle slung across his chest stood close by. She remembered him as the one who’d pulled her from the wrecked limousine thinking she was dead.

  Gabriel was to her left, lying on the ground near the far edge of t
he chamber. Another guard she recognized from Culzean Castle was next to him, his rifle at his side, rubbing the bruised jaw she’d given him.

  “You first,” Lady Tresch told her. “Have your moment and then I’ll have mine.”

  Followed by Dekker, Cassie stepped into the circle of light. Tresch stopped pacing.

  “At last,” he said. “Bring the case to me, Dekker.”

  She ignored Tresch and ran to Gabriel, kneeling at his side. His eyes were closed. His cheeks were grey, his breathing shallow. A small pool of blood had collected beneath his leg and the wound had a pungent, infected odor. She held his hand and whispered.

  “Gabriel, it’s me.”

  He opened his eyes. “You came back.”

  “I told you I would. I’m going to get you out of here.”

  He took a deep breath and coughed, his chest rattling. “Come closer.”

  She leaned in, her ear next to his mouth. “Kill the son-of-a-bitch for me.”

  “Of course.”

  She kissed his forehead, then stood and watched as Dekker held the Codex case in his arms in front of Tresch like an offering. Tresch released the latch and opened the case. A vein popped in his forehead as he pawed at the foam liner, then ripped it out and knocked the case to the floor. He marched toward Cassie, fists clenched at his side.

  “Where is the Codex?”

  Cassie said. “You didn’t think I was going to give it to you just so you could kill us. Let us go. I’ll call you in an hour and tell you where you can find it.”

  Tresch signaled to the two men who trained their rifles on Gabriel and Jake.

  “Tell me or watch them die.”

  Cassie looked at Jake. “What do you think, partner? Is he bluffing?”

  Jake’s eyes lit up. “Partner, huh?” Cassie smiled and nodded. “He’s bluffing. He knows that if he kills Gabriel and me, there’s no way you’ll tell him. If he wants the Codex, his only play is to let us go.”

  “And, if I’d rather kill you than have the Codex,” Tresch said, “who holds the winning hand?”

  Jake sighed. “You do. A hundred million pounds is a nice pot.”

  Lady Tresch came into the chamber. “Make that fifty million.”

  “Liliane!” Tresch gasped, “you’re…you’re…”

  She walked up to him. “I believe the word you’re looking for is alive. Yes, I’m alive, thanks to Dekker. My investment in him paid off more than my investment in you. My god, William, you are such a fool. If you’d done what I told you instead of trying to outdo me with the Codex, this would all be over. We’d each have more than enough money. But you had to have it all and then some and now I have to clean up your mess yet again.”

  Cassie said, “You may not be giving him enough credit. If he was willing to have you killed so he could keep the money, he might have hedged his bets and moved it where you can’t find it.”

  Eyebrows raised, Lady Tresch studied Cassie, then looked at Lord Tresch. “Is there something you want to tell me about the money, William?”

  He crossed his arms over his chest. “No, of course not. It’s all there. I make no apologies for what I did. You’re an insufferable cunt and the sooner I’m through with you, the better. And, don’t tell me you wouldn’t have done the same thing if you’d have been smart enough to think of it.”

  She raised a finger. “Let’s hold that last thought for a minute. Show me the money.”

  Cassie looked at Gabriel who’d turned his head toward her. She tapped her chest and cleared her throat. He nodded and began coughing, softly then building to a hacking spasm. She rushed to his side, putting herself between him and the guard.

  He winked, then whispered, “I’ve got a bit left in the tank when you make your move.”

  Tresch opened his phone and pulled up the website for the Cayman Island bank where the ransom had been wired. Lady Tresch stood by his side. Color drained from his face as the page for their account opened and showed a zero balance.

  “That’s impossible…it can’t be…it’s gone…all of it…gone.” He started toward Cassie. “You bitch! You did this! Where’s my goddamn money!”

  Lady Tresch stepped in front of him. “I should be asking you that question, William.”

  “Me? Me? I didn’t do anything with it?” He pointed at Cassie. “She did it.”

  Cassie stood, angling her side to the guard. “It wasn’t me. I didn’t have the account information and, even if I did, I wasn’t authorized to access the funds. Weren’t the two of you the only ones that could do that?”

  Bits of spittle flew from Tresch’s mouth as he shook his fist at Lady Tresch. “Then it had to be you. I didn’t steal the money. You did it to get even with me for…for…”

  “Trying to murder me,” Lady Tresch said. “Not my style. I would have just killed you and then all the money would have been mine.”

  Tresch stiffened his back and stuck his chin out at her. “You don’t have the balls.”

  “Really, William. I guess you don’t know me as well as you thought.”

  She drew her gun and shot him in the throat, hitting his jugular vein. A geyser of blood exploded from his neck, raining down on Lady Tresch, as he collapsed to the floor.

  Cassie whirled toward the guard next to her, crushing his windpipe with her elbow. The other guard raised his rifle, ready to open fire from across the chamber. Dekker put two rounds in his head, then spun and aimed at Cassie as Gabriel pulled himself up in front of her, taking Dekker’s bullet in his chest. Cassie wrestled the guard’s rifle from his grasp, firing a burst that traced an arc from Dekker’s belt to his neck. His body fell at Lady Tresch’s feet.

  Cassie slammed the butt of the rifle against the guard’s temple, knocking him unconscious. She held the rifle waist high and pointed it at Lady Tresch.

  “Give it up. The money’s gone.”

  Lady Tresch wiped her husband’s blood from her eyes and did a slow turn around the chamber. She nudged Lord Tresch’s body with her shoe and nodded. Dropping to one knee, she squeezed Dekker’s hand and closed his eyes.

  “Leave the gun on the floor,” Cassie said. “It’s over.

  Lady Tresch struggled to her feet and looked at her.

  “You’re wrong, dear. It’s almost over,” she said.

  Then she stuck the gun barrel in her mouth and pulled the trigger.

  “Noooo,” Cassie cried.

  She flinched, turned away and bent over, hands on her knees, stunned. Breathing deeply, she gathered herself and knelt next to Gabriel. He was alive. She pressed her hands against the sucking wound in his chest to stem the bleeding.

  “Hang on,” she said, “You’re going to make it.”

  He put his hand on hers and shook his head. “It’s okay.”

  Tears ran down her cheeks as she pressed harder. “No. It’s not okay.”

  “Listen to me,” he said, his voice feeble and raspy. “I’m sorry for everything. Jake’s a good man. Hang on to him.”

  She nodded, unable to speak. His hand fell away from hers and he died. She held him for a moment, then crossed the chamber to Jake.

  “Gabriel?” he said. She shook her head. “I’m so sorry.”

  She took his face in her hands and kissed him long and deeply, then untied him and kissed him again, their arms wrapped tightly around each other. She pulled away, leaned her head against his for a moment, then helped him up.

  “C’mon, partner, we’ve got a lot to do.”

  SIXTY-FOUR

  INSPECTOR MURDOCH SURVEYED the catacomb chamber. Cassie and Jake stood next to him. She had given Murdoch a quick summary of what had happened when she called him, filling in more details when he arrived.

  Forensic technicians were taking measurements and photographs and were marking shell casings and other pieces of evidence with numbered yellow plastic triangles. The surviving guard had been taken to the hospital for evaluation of his head injury. The bodies were covered with sheets.

  “It’s a slaughterhou
se, isn’t it?” Murdoch said. “Four dead and one concussed, plus those three unfortunate British Library guards whose bodies we found in another chamber. And I’m left with the two of you to sort it all out.”

  “We can explain everything,” Jake said.

  “I don’t doubt that,” Murdoch said. “The question is whether any of it will be true.”

  He drove them to Scotland Yard and put them in separate interrogation rooms. After watching them through the one-way mirrors in each room, he decided to begin with Cassie. He joined her and placed a tape recorder on the table.

  “You haven’t asked for a lawyer,” he said.

  “I don’t need one.”

  “And you haven’t asked to call anyone. Why is that?”

  “There’s no one to call.”

  “You’re wanted for questioning in the warehouse murders. You ran from me in the British Library last night. Today, you’re hip-deep in dead bodies. Are you certain you don’t want a lawyer or to call anyone?”

 

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