The Darkest Days (The Adventures of Xavier & Vic Book 6)

by Liza O'Connor

  “Do whatever you feel is necessary, but rest assured, if the Rembrandt is ruined, the fault lies on you.”

  Vic smiled and left the room. The idiot man had just given Xavier carte blanche.

  She located Barns standing in the hall, his body tense as if expecting a flood of thieves to arrive any second. She walked up beside him and whispered, “Xavier may be claiming you’re Scotland Yard, or not. Wait for his cue on which way he’s going. However, if he does, give Powers your arrogant side. Drop your father’s name if you must. Just show him you’re bigger than he is.”

  Barns grew an inch taller.

  Vic grabbed his arm. “Don’t show your arrogance until he challenges you. Truly powerful men keep their power hidden until they really need it. Learn from Xavier.”

  Barns gave a single nod, now eyeing the door that held Xavier and Powers.

  When the wagon arrived at four a.m. Tubs went out and checked out the driver. He returned ten minutes later. “The driver’s all right.”

  The three workers from yesterday arrived soon after and carried the Rembrandt to the carriage. Vic, Barns, and Tubs followed them. As they loaded the painting from the back of the box-like carriage, Vic and Barns climbed in the side doors and sat on a narrow bench facing backward, so they would have a view of the cloth wrapped masterpiece the entire time.

  The man, Xavier had interviewed the day before, stormed to the right side door and opened it. “Hold on! We have to go with the painting.”

  “You’ll travel in the second carriage. We are commissioned to guard the Rembrandt until it gets to its new home.”

  She didn’t know if it was the early morning hours or a glitch in their thievery plans, but all three men took her announcement poorly. Two stormed back inside while James climbed in and sat on a trunk next to the painting.

  “Why do you care about the Rembrandt? You were called in to find the Renoir…which you haven’t, by the way.”

  “We will, but we believe the Renoir was a distraction so thieves could steal the Rembrandt. Since we prevented the theft of it last night it stands to reason, they will attempt to rob it between here and its new home.”

  “That’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard. And even if it were true, how are two lightweights like you going to stop a robbery.”

  “I’m an excellent shot. How about you Barns?”

  He snorted and gave the guy his stare of superiority. “I don’t answer to the likes of you.”

  “Well, I’ve heard he’s very good,” Vic added.

  James glared at her. “Shouldn’t you know? He works with you.”

  Vic pressed her hand on Barns’ arm to silence any declaration that he was Scotland Yard.

  “You were a great deal nicer yesterday? Do you not like getting up before the sun?”

  “No, oddly I don’t. Especially, when I’m not paid for the day and now it appears I’m not even needed.”

  His anger seemed sincere, but maybe he’d realized he was revealing more than he wished and changed his tune. Or maybe he’d acquired the information he wanted.

  Xavier came to the door and ordered James out.

  “No, I’m staying,” he insisted.

  “Tubs, get him out.”

  Tubs reached in and pulled the fellow out as if he were a child’s rag doll. Xavier climbed in and locked the door panel, then made his way to the back of the carriage, careful not to bump the Rembrandt, and locked the back door panel. “Did all three men assist in carrying out the painting?”

  “Yes.”

  “Did you notice who closed the door?”

  Vic grimaced. “Sorry, no. I got in an argument with James right off.” She realized that helped some. “Which means it had to be Tom or the other guy.”

  Xavier returned and stared at their bench. “Barns, I need the truth. How much training on weapons have you had?”

  “None.”

  Xavier squeezed his good shoulder. “Thank you for being honest. Move to the middle so Vic and I both have windows to shoot from. Vic, if you need to shoot, break out the glass first, but turn your head away when you do so. Barns, if a gunfight begins, get down on the floor. I don’t want you dying for no reason.”

  “Tubs is coming too,” Barns stated in a pleading voice. For the first time, Barns clearly wanted the big guy’s help.

  “Yes, and rest assured he’ll be our best weapon because no one will expect a second carriage coming to our aid. Between Casey and Tubs, I doubt we’ll even need to fire a gun.”

  Barns breathed out in relief. “I’ll request training when I get back today.”

  “Don’t bother. Vic and I will take you to the shooting range tomorrow.”

  “Hold on!” Vic snapped. “We still have the ghost case.”

  “You have a ghost case and we both know damn well who the ghost is and breaking the old ladies heart is something that can wait a day.”

  “Oh…you think it’s the nephew…”

  “And you don’t? Who else has the motivation to send her to an early grave?”

  “All those nephews and nieces that she never sees, for one.”

  He reached across Barns and smacked her on the head. “She left everything to Jeffrey. What good would it do for anyone else to kill her?”

  “But then why is the butler wanting to make us think she’s gone batty?”

  Xavier opened his mouth, then paused, and smiled. “Good question. Maybe it is an interesting case after all. You and Tubs may dig about…I’m guessing you’ll have to find the nephew first because honestly I don’t think there’s much more we’ll get out of the servants.”

  She sighed. “I agree. The butler’s got them screwed down tight.”

  Barns frowned. “If someone is trying to murder someone, shouldn’t Scotland Yard be involved?”

  Vic groaned.

  “I’m not saying I wish to take the case away from you, but wouldn’t it be helpful if someone were around to arrest the murderer?”

  “Well, I plan to resolve this before someone murders Lady Haughton. However, when I find the attempted murderer, you are more than welcome to cart the person away.”

  Xavier added, “Did you notice how Vic did not assume the murderer is a man.” He then waxed on about the mesmerist case in which everyone had assumed the murderer by proxy was a man. “Only Vic noticed the people hypnotized and ordered to kill where all male, thus leading him to conclude the mesmerist was female since a sexual connection strengthens their hypnotic power.”

  Vic noticed Xavier did not share that the woman had taken control of him. Nor would she mention it. Some parts of the nightmare neither wished to remember. Never had she wanted to kill a person more than she did the mesmerist.

  Without warning the carriage lurched to the left, almost tipping over.

  Shots rang out and a woman screamed. Xavier broke the glass on his side, so she did the same on hers. To her amazement, Barns moved to the floor.

  Noticing a man running to the carriage, rather than away, she leveled her gun, but he fell to the ground before she fired. She was very glad she hadn’t fired, because a young girl, dressed in dirty clothes, barely more than rags, stood frozen in terror by her bucket of flowers on the other side of the street.

  “Get inside!” Vic yelled.

  Xavier fired several shots, but Vic trusted Tubs would shoot anyone trying to enter the carriage from her side. From his angle in the carriage behind them, the little girl was safe. A moment later, the whistle of the police sounded outside.

  “Barns, come with me. You’ll need to take the lead in this matter. We need to proceed to the museum for the protection of the Rembrandt. Tell the constable to send for Inspector Stone or Captain Meyers.”

  “I can do this!” Barns insisted. “I do not need to send for anyone.”

  Xavier raised both his eyebrows. “You wish to remain here taking interviews from people who saw nothing, rather than accompanying us to the museum where we shall secure the Rembrandt and reveal the mastermind
of this theft?”

  Barns grimaced. “Sorry, no. I will do as you suggested.”

  While Xavier and Barns got matters straightened out with the policeman, Tubs and Casey stood by the doors of the Rembrandt carriage.

  “You all right?” Tubs asked.

  “Thank God, you were here. There was a flower girl right in my line of fire.”

  He nodded. “I saw her. Odd she didn’t move. Most street kids have better sense.”

  Vic looked out. A tipped bucket of red roses scattered on the cobblestone road, but the girl was nowhere in sight. “Isn’t it a little early to be selling roses? Only the wealthy could afford those.”

  Tubs nodded and huffed. “She might have been placed there on purpose, so you wouldn’t fire.”

  “What caused the driver to pull to the side so abruptly?” Vic asked.

  Tubs shrugged. “Ask Casey. I was inside with the unhappy workers.”

  “Did they seem surprised by the attack?” Vic asked, recalling one had left the back door unlocked.

  “Two did. The other is a hard read. He needs to be properly interrogated.”

  “We should let Xavier know.”

  Tubs placed two giant fingers to his mouth and whistled. Normally, he would go to Xavier, but he was on his ‘protect the pup’ duty, so evidently Xavier must come to him.

  Vic couldn’t imagine Xavier liked being whistled at like a dog, but it served him right for being so over-protective.

  She shuffled down the bench to the other side door and looked out the broken glass window at Casey. “What caused the carriage to swerve and stop?”

  “Someone ran across the street right in front of the horses.”

  Vic sat back. Without question, a different thief attempted to hijack the carriage…in fact, it appeared there might even be three different attempts of theft in play. A subtle, clever thief, working from the inside, wanted the Renoir. An inside thief, who probably intended to steal every painting in the storage room…and possibly the paintings stored in the reconstruction room, left the key in the back door. Finally, there was an external thief, who preferred the old fashion way of distractions and guns. The flower girl placement indicated a well thought out plan and a great deal of ruthlessness since the child could have been killed.

  This group also needed an inside person to provide the date and time the Rembrandt would be moved.

  Gads! Was no case going to be easy forthwith?

  ***

  A half-hour later, Xavier and Barns entered the carriage and they continued on their way.

  Xavier touched her arm. “You never fired your gun.”

  She saw the worry and disappointment in his eyes. He’d thought she’d frozen. “No. There was a small child on the sidewalk, right in my path of fire. So I let Tubs handle it since he had a better angle.”

  He smiled. “Well done.” He then explained to Barns, seated between them, how trusting the people you work with can save innocent lives and how Vic had done so.

  “Never let ego or fear pull the trigger.”

  While Vic thought it a very fine lecture, especially since it wasn’t aimed at improving her, she did need to clarify one thing. “I don’t believe the flower girl was in my line of sight by accident. Four a.m. is a half a day early to sell roses to rich ladies and gentlemen.”

  “No one said girls have any sense,” Barns replied.

  Vic glared at him, not appreciating his dismissal of her proof or his attitude toward ‘girls’. “Only the rich can successfully raise stupid children. If this child didn’t know her profession, she couldn’t afford to buy roses in order to sell them.” Vic stopped talking since she could find no reasonable motivation for the girl to be there, not even as an accomplice to theft.

  “I agree with Vic. The girl was clearly in on the theft,” Xavier said.

  “I’m not sure she was. The look of horror on her face seemed most genuine. Perhaps, she had been tricked into standing there, having no idea what was about to happen.”

  “Seems unlikely,” Xavier said.

  “What if someone convinced her a wealthy person would drive by in the early morning and purchase all her roses for twice the normal price?”

  “Pure conjecture,” Barns snapped.

  Vic shrugged. “But it does explain how an innocent girl might have been tricked into assisting the robbery at such risk to her own life…and why the robbers wouldn’t care if she lived or died.”

  Xavier reached across Barns and ruffled her hair. “An excellent possibility. Now focus on the art theft. It’s becoming a bit of a tangle.”

  “Yes, what with three different thieves working overlapping jobs, it certainly has.”

  “Three?” Barns exclaimed. “How did you come up with three?”

  Vic glared at him. “I will tell you my theory, but if you are just going to scoff at me, this will be the last time I ever share my thoughts with you.”

  “Before you reply,” Xavier warned. “Keep in mind Vic’s special talent is his intuitive reasoning. I’ve never met anyone with greater skill. For example, in order to explain our need to come with a painting today, he created a scenario in which thieves would attack the carriage in transport to the museum. He did not consciously think this was going to happen when he first mentioned it, it was simply a viable possibility.”

  “Which came true,” Barns finished and sighed. “I apologize for my objection a moment ago. I know all too well how frustrating it is to have people doubt your skills solely because they do not possess them. I will let Meyers, who took charge of this attempted robbery the moment he arrived, know this bit of information. It is possible if the girl is not a willing participant, she will testify against them.”

  “I doubt it,” Vic said. “Street children know never to talk to police.” She then smiled. “But thank you for the apology.

  “Excellent,” Xavier declared. “Now may we return to our thefts before they multiply even further? By three, I assume you mean the missing Renoir, the key in the back door, and then this attack on the carriage?”

  Vic nodded, pleased Xavier was always with her.

  “Then let us speculate on who is behind each. Clearly all three required inside help.”

  When Barns frowned, Vic quickly explained the reasons. Once he nodded, Xavier continued. “It is most doubtful anyone would be the insider for more than one of these thefts.”

  “Why?” Barns challenged.

  “Because they are so different. One seemed almost amateurish: leaving a key in the door. One was quite clever but required patience. And the third was brutal and ruthless and the insider only played a minor role of letting them know the itinerary.”

  “Yes,” Barns agreed. “These attempts all have distinct fingerprints which are nothing alike.”

  “So you have read Sir Francis Galton’s publications on fingerprints?” Vic asked, most impressed.

  Barns nodded. “When I become Director of Scotland Yard, I intend to see it instituted as a key method of matching criminals to their crimes.”

  Xavier patted the boy on his back. “You will be better served by sharing the matter with Stone and letting him do so.”

  Barns tensed and his eyes narrowed. “Why?”

  “Because Stone will be impressed you brought it to his attention, and you have much growing and learning to do before you become the next Director of Scotland Yard. And when you do take over, you will not wish to implement a new system before your men learn to respect you.”

  Vic didn’t think he yet agreed, and thus added another reason. “Also, you’ll be late to the party. Argentina is already using fingerprints to locate the correct criminal.”

  “I see. Then I will talk to him two days from now.” He frowned and looked to Xavier. “Do you think he will be receptive to the idea?”

  “His reaction will depend entirely upon your presentation. You have the ability to either impress him a great deal or to annoy him yet again.”

  Barns smiled. “I will go in humbly subdu
ed.”

  “You can be excited,” Vic offered. “Just don’t make him feel stupid because no one likes to be talked down to.”

  Xavier stared at her in shock.

  “What? It’s true.”

  “It most certainly is,” he replied and continued to smile.

  Did he believe she didn’t know that? Her sister had been talking down to her since she had learned to speak. Gods above! Had he turned his lectures on her? “May we return to the thefts?” she snapped. She never talked down to people unless they were purposely being dense.

  “Yes, given we are almost at our destination, resolving the crimes would be best,” Xavier said. “So who looks good for the clever crime?”

  “Just about everyone. Dr. Powers placed the Renoir in the storage room for no rational reason. Edward Hendrickson was the assistant curator for the Sketches and Engraving department. He quit right after the Renoir went missing, and he did have access to the storage room. The other three workers have access to the storage room and they are experts upon sealing the backs of the paintings.”

  “Then exclude them. While the person who removed the backing and placed the Renoir inside knew how to do it, I would not deem them an expert.”

  “So it’s Hendrickson or Powers,” Vic conceded, “I would peg Hendrickson for this, despite never having met him, because I think the crime is too clever for anyone I have met.”

  “Round about logic with a big hole, given we haven’t met Hendrickson, however, I agree with you that it seems beyond Powers.”

  “Problem is James said the fellow went to a different museum than our target,” Vic reminded him.

  Xavier sighed in frustration. “Let’s move on to the carriage attack. We are looking for the person who provided the itinerary to the thieves.”

  “Tubs said the third guy, the one you interviewed, was hard to read, but the other two looked genuinely surprised by the attack.”

  Barns frowned but said nothing.

  “The guy I interviewed was a hard read,” Xavier agreed. “However, given the intent of the attackers appeared to be to kill the people guarding the painting, I doubt it was them.”

  “Unless they were dispensable like the flower girl,” Vic offered.