by Estelle Ryan
“Two that we know about already.” Pink shook out an evidence bag and held it out to Vinnie. “I’ll get this to the lab as soon as we’re done here. It won’t take long to test for illegal substances.”
“So where the bloody hell are the other bottles? Jace said Adèle had taken four crates. And he took the other eight.”
“Which are now in a basement somewhere,” Vinnie added.
Manny nodded, walked to the desk and rested his hip against it. “Doc, how many bottles in one of those crates?”
“Twelve bottles.” It had been clear from Jace’s video. “That means Adèle took forty-eight bottles.”
“And Jace took ninety-six bottles.”
“A total of a hundred and forty-four bottles.” I did a quick mental calculation using Vinnie’s estimates. “If the bottles contain heroin, it would be a total of twenty-eight point eight kilograms.”
“That’s a fuckload of heroin.”
“With a street value of seven point two million euros.” I swallowed.
“Holy hellfire, Doc.”
“That’s a huge motive for torture and murder.” Daniel looked at the photos. “And then there’s all this.”
Colin pointed at the top photo. “These are people, documents, wine bottles and artefacts.” He flicked at the bottom photo, then frowned. “There’s another photo under this one.”
I walked closer and took care to lift the top photo by only touching the sides. As soon as I saw the photo under it, I removed the pin that held the top photo in place and took both photos to the desk. Manny stood to the side to make space for the photos and for Colin to lean over them.
“Shit!” Colin leaned closer, then stepped back and pushed both his hands through his hair. “Those are artefacts that are part of the Oxus treasure.”
“The one Nikki was blabbering about last night?” Manny leaned forward and stared at the photos. There were three small golden statues. Two were bearded men who looked like they were holding something. The other was a small gold figure of an antelope, possibly a deer. “Doesn’t look like much to me.”
“The value of those pieces is incredible. Most of these will never be for sale.”
“You think Nikki was right about the treasure hunt?” Vinnie’s smile was mischievous. “Franny will be so happy.”
“No.” Colin shook his head. “There is simply no truth in there being any treasure maps in Roubaud’s paintings leading to the Oxus treasure.”
“Are these pieces stolen?” I asked.
“Not as far as I know.” Colin shrugged. “I’ll have to check with my contacts at the museum, but the last I heard, all the surviving metalwork they’d found from the treasure was on display at the British Museum.”
“Then why did Adèle have photos of these pieces?” Manny asked.
The men started speculating and I turned away. I looked at Adèle’s chart and let my mind wander over all the questions I had. Not only did I wonder why Adèle hid a photo of pieces of the Oxus treasure, I wondered how it was connected to the wine. I didn’t know of any vineyards in Iran, but it wasn’t out of the realm of possibility.
I continued staring at the chart, knowing that it would take a while to answer these and the many other questions I had.
Daniel took his phone from one of the top pockets in his uniform. “Huh. The manager of the self-storage warehouse is in the wind.” He looked at me. “Gilles Mahout is missing. I sent a few officers to locate and question him, but he’s nowhere to be found. The people who rent lockers have full access to the warehouse at all times, but the manager’s office is only manned during office hours. It’s office hours and he’s not there. The place is standing wide open.”
“His house?” Manny asked.
Daniel’s phone pinged. He smiled at Manny. “They must’ve heard you. Two officers went to his apartment. The front door was open, clothes missing from the wardrobe and all electronic devices gone.”
“At least we have the ID of one bad guy.” Vinnie shrugged when all of us frowned. “What?” He pointed at the photos on the pinboard. “We have no idea who any of those guys are.”
“Not true.” I was becoming vexed with his exaggerations. “Colin identified four of the men who frequently buy black-market art.”
“I did.” Colin’s smug expression didn’t hide his amusement.
“Whatever.” Vinnie turned to Manny. “What I’m saying is the manager dude wouldn’t have run if he wasn’t guilty. And I don’t think he’s very smart. We’ll catch him quick sticks.”
“Famous last words.” Pink glanced at his phone. “The crime scene techs are here.”
Daniel lifted his index finger when I took a step forward. “I asked them to record everything carefully and send all of it to you immediately.”
“They’ll have to take everything here in for processing.” Pink narrowed his eyes at the perfume bottles. “Prints, trace evidence of the contents and so on. I’ll quickly clone her laptop and send it to Francine before the techs take over here.”
“Want to come with us, Vin?” Daniel asked. “We’re going to the self-storage warehouse.”
“Why?” Colin asked. “Should we come?”
“Nah.” Pink put his phone in his pocket. “It’s just a routine check. We’ll check Gilles’ office as well as the locker where Jace found the cache. And the dogs are there. We’ll see if there are more drugs.” He blinked. “Or more wine bottles with drugs.”
Vinnie’s smile was immediate. “I love watching those puppies work.”
“They’re trained officers of the law.” Manny turned towards the stairs. “Unlike you.”
“I sent you all the photos I took here, Genevieve.” Pink looked at the chart. “I didn’t get shots of the hidden photos. I don’t want to disturb stuff before the techs process it.”
“Your photos will suffice.” There was so much just on the surface to analyse.
“Thanks, Pink.” Colin winked at me. “We’ll see you guys at the team room.”
I sighed. “Yes. Thanks, Pink.”
“Anytime, Genevieve.” Pink’s smile was genuine and not for the first time did I see affection. Since he’d moved into our apartment, he’d referred to me a few times as his friend.
I didn’t ponder upon it for very long. My mind kept drifting back to the chart.
Chapter SEVEN
“WELL, THAT WAS INTERESTING.” Daniel walked past Francine’s desk and stopped at the door to my viewing room. “Where do you want to chat?”
I glanced back at the images of Adèle’s chart filling all fifteen monitors and frowned. “I don’t want to chat.”
He laughed softly. “Of course not. What I should’ve asked was where you would like for me to debrief you on our visit to the self-storage warehouse.”
“We’ll do it in here.” Manny got up from his desk and pointed at the round table close to the large windows. “Doc’s room is too small for all of us.”
I was loath to leave studying Adèle’s chart and figuring out the different aspects of her business, but Daniel had already interrupted my train of thought. I got up. “The table is a better option.”
“Then I’ll make coffee.” Vinnie walked to the small kitchen on the far side of the large open space. We were on the top floor of the building adjacent to the one Phillip owned and ran his insurance business from. The elevator to our floor was only for our use and led to the foyer of Phillip’s building. Vinnie, Colin and Daniel had taken extensive measures when designing our team room to make it as secure as possible. And difficult to access.
My viewing room was the only closed-off space. The soundproof glass walls and doors not only kept us in sight of each other, but also maintained the spaciousness of the area. Colin had a desk in my room, Manny a desk in the team room and Francine had a large computer station set up across from the door to my room.
Vinnie spent most of his time on the dark green sofa by the windows or in the small kitchen. He reached up to pull down a bin from the top of one
of the cupboards and filled a plate with his homemade cookies. By the time he walked to the round table with the large tray of coffee mugs and cookies, we were all seated. “The cookies are just for the worst hunger. Don’t eat too much. I’m making lasagne for dinner and you’d better eat it all.”
“Count me in.” Daniel grabbed a cookie from the plate and leaned back. “Pink got lucky when he moved in with you guys. Good food every day.”
I wasn’t in the mood for social repartee. I held up my hand when Pink inhaled to answer and looked at Daniel. “What did you find at the self-storage warehouse?”
“Nothing that is of immediate use to our case.” Daniel sobered and took a sip of the coffee Vinnie handed him. “The documents in the manager’s office show that Adèle paid for five lockers in that self-storage warehouse. Not all of them were next to each other.”
“The security in that place is terrible.” Pink took another cookie and placed it on a napkin next to his coffee mug. “There are three cameras outside, but nothing inside the warehouse. I would never use a place like that to store something I valued.”
“Yet Adèle did.” The expression on Daniel’s face alerted me that he knew why. He nodded. “Because she took care of her own security. By the time we got there, the regional manager had arrived. He opened all her lockers for us and all five of them had cameras installed inside and just above the doors outside. All top-of-the-range cameras—small and strong.” He looked at Francine. “Did she stream the footage to her system?”
“Yup.” Francine’s fingers hovered over her tablet screen, ready to type in whatever search we needed. “The girl was one strange cookie. She had state-of-the-art security, but her computer is way too easy to access. One password and anyone could be in her whole system. She stored all the video footage from the lockers on an external drive. The crime scene techs found it behind the perfume bottles, but I had already remotely accessed it. Shocking security. I checked the recordings of the last few days and so far haven’t found anything suspicious.”
Francine was one of the most sceptical people I’d ever come across and I completely trusted her when she said there wasn’t something noteworthy. I’d been so absorbed in studying the photos of Adèle’s chart that I hadn’t given much thought to the self-storage lockers. “What was in the five lockers?”
“The dogs went on full alert in one of the lockers.” Vinnie straightened in excitement. “The techs tested the air and said there was residue of cocaine and heroin. But that locker was completely empty. Two of the others were also empty. One had some of her personal stuff, like an old sofa, a bicycle and a few boxes. The techs are going through that now, but the stuff we saw was nothing important.”
“He’s leaving the best for last.” Pink looked at Colin.
Daniel also turned his attention to Colin sitting next to me and smiled. “As soon as the techs are done in that locker, they’re bringing the artworks here.”
Colin’s eyebrows rose. “What artworks?”
“I took photos.” Pink took his smartphone from a pocket in his uniform shirt and tapped the screen. “I’ll send them to you now. Hey.” Pink looked up from his phone, his brow pulled down low over his eyes. “Did any of you know Adèle had a sister?”
“No way.” Francine swiped her tablet screen and started tapping. “I didn’t find anything about any sister anywhere.”
“The case file said nothing about siblings,” Daniel said.
“Why do you think she has a sister?” Manny asked.
“Because of this.” Pink turned his phone to show us a photo of two young women laughing at the camera. This was the first photo I’d seen of Adèle. I didn’t know which one of the two women she was.
They were on an empty beach, the sunset creating beautiful hues of purple and orange behind them. The woman with the short blonde hair and freckles on her nose had a red heart drawn around her face. Above their heads in distinct feminine writing were the words, ‘The best twin anyone could ever want. Love you, sis.’
“Bloody hell.” Manny tapped his index finger on the table and looked at Francine. “Find her.”
“On it, boss.” She winked at him.
“What else don’t we know?” Manny slumped into this chair. “We don’t even have a proper connection between Caelan’s dead friend and Adèle.”
“I consider the wine to be a very strong connection between Jace and Adèle.” I studied Manny’s expression. “I’m surprised that you would dismiss that.”
“I’m not dismissing anything, missy.” Manny grunted when Francine slapped him lightly on his shoulder, immediately returning to tapping and swiping her tablet screen. He inhaled deeply and schooled his expression to his usual scowl. “I’m just saying...”
“These are all artefacts that have been looted from Iran.” Colin interrupted Manny and lifted his smartphone. “My God. These works are priceless cultural treasures. They should never be in an unguarded storage locker.”
“What are you talking about, Frey?”
Colin pointed at his phone. “The photos Pink just sent us. Two of the artworks they found in Adèle’s storage locker are part of the Oxus treasure. These pieces should be in the British Museum exhibition.”
“Are these the same pieces in the photos in her house?” I asked.
“Yes.” He swiped his phone screen and held it for me to see. “This one and”—he swiped again—“this one.”
One of the bearded men and the deer.
“What about the other pieces?” Daniel asked.
“These are all from the Persian era,” Colin said.
“And let’s not forget that Jace had a degree in Persian history.” Pink looked at his phone. “He would’ve known about this treasure.”
“You think that’s relevant, Doc?”
I considered my answer for a few seconds before looking at Manny. “I don’t want to speculate.”
“Doc.” His expression was very familiar.
“No need to become irate. In this situation, I think speculation is called for.” I ignored Manny’s faux relief. “If Jace had seen these artworks, he would undoubtedly have recognised them to be from the period he knew well. But I have to reiterate that we have no way of knowing he’d seen these.”
“And it’s impossible that he studied this era and didn’t know about the Oxus treasure,” Colin said. “I also think that Jace would’ve mentioned it if he’d found this. He would’ve been much more excited about these artworks than the crates of wine.”
“Hmm.” Manny narrowed his eyes. “You’re sure there’s nothing to this Oxus treasure thing, Frey?”
Colin’s lips thinned and he exhaled loudly. “It’s a theory some treasure hunter started in the 1980s. It’s utter nonsense.”
Manny pushed his hands into his trouser pockets. “Tell me about this Oxus treasure. Without writing poetry about it.”
“It’s a collection of about a hundred and eight pieces of metalwork in gold and silver as well as around two hundred coins.” Colin’s muscles relaxed as he talked about a topic he was so passionate about. “These pieces were found around 1880 in the Oxus River. The greatest value of this treasure is the possibility that some of it dates as far back as 200 BC.
“The exact date and location it was found have never been established, but it is said to have been discovered by local people somewhere on the north bank of the river. That part is now in Tajikistan, but then it was all part of the Persian Empire. The area was a major ancient crossing point for the river.”
“I’m sure Caelan can tell us more about the river and how it has changed in the last few centuries.” Daniel looked at me. “Where is Caelan?”
“I don’t know.” Why would he even assume I did?
“He’s with Phillip.” Francine smiled at me. “He refused to leave.”
“Get him up here,” Manny said. “His useless facts might be useful for once.”
Francine rolled her eyes at Manny and lifted her phone. We didn’t need information a
bout the Oxus River at the moment, but I did have questions about geocaching. An unrelated thought flashed through my mind. I looked at Pink. “Have you recovered anything from Jace’s phone?”
“Nah.” Pink winced. “Between the damage, the toilet water and the cleaning agent, that phone is completely destroyed. We couldn’t get anything from it.”
“Dammit.” Manny sighed. “Please tell me you got something from testing the wine bottles.”
“Oh, yes.” Pink’s smile told me the answer before he spoke. “It’s liquid heroin all right. The techs reckon that there’s two hundred and fifty grams in that one bottle. It sent quite a shockwave through the labs.”
“And the department.” Daniel looked at Manny. “Did the chief call you?”
“No.” Manny’s lips thinned. “The president did. Art and murder is one thing, but this kind of heroin connected to Iran is creating all kinds of political problems. They’re all panicking about it.”
“It’s not just the drugs coming from Iran.” Colin put his phone on the table. “It’s the anger because the West is stealing cultural treasures from countries they so publicly denounce as terrorists. The sanctions, the travel bans, the”—he shook his head—“the disdain for their culture, yet it is rich Europeans who buy these artefacts.”
His expression caught my attention and I leaned towards him. “What did you find out?”
Colin exhaled angrily. “I’ve been phoning around. Three of the four men I’d identified on the photos on the chart have been asking for unusual artworks. They want things that are extremely valuable, but not mainstream like a Rembrandt or a Van Gogh.”
“What do you know about them?” Manny asked.
“Mayer is a property magnate. He’s made his fortune restoring old houses, villas and even castles and then selling them at exorbitant prices. He’s sharp and known to step on anyone and everyone who gets in his way of a good deal.
“Riner inherited his wealth. He’s made himself wealthier by investing in art. I know of three paintings he bought for less than ten thousand euros from some unsuspecting person. Then he sold them a few years later at an auction for millions.
