The Uccello Connection (Genevieve Lenard, #10)

by Estelle Ryan

Vinnie was standing at the entrance to the room and smiled at Colin. “Dude, this is all your birthdays and Hanukahs rolled into one.”

  “Colin isn’t Jewish.” I grunted in annoyance that I’d taken Vinnie’s comment literally and walked past him into the room. It was about three times larger than I had expected. As with the home office, this room was minimalistic in its décor. There was no desk or any other office furniture. Only a comfortable-looking chair and a small side table. The rest of the room looked like a store room in a museum or art gallery.

  “Oh. Oh, wow.” Colin’s breathless words came out as a whisper. “This is... oh, wow.”

  “Yeah, yeah.” Manny turned away from one of the paintings he’d been looking at. “You’re getting a full dose of art-porn now, aren’t you, Frey?”

  “This is...” Colin frowned and went on his haunches in front of a colourful landscape. He tilted his head, then carefully took the painting by the frame and got up. He turned the artwork towards the light and studied it from a few angles. When he looked at me, his face had lost colour. “This is an authentic Uccello, Jenny. This is another one of the paintings that were supposed to be on the flight to Belarus.”

  “The hell you say.” Manny pushed his hands into his trouser pockets. “I’ve counted sixty-one paintings here. Are all of them the real deal?”

  “I’ve only checked this one, Millard.” Colin raised the painting in his hands a bit higher, then put it back where he got it. He took another small painting and spent a few seconds inspecting it like he had the first one. “This is also authentic. This is a Caravaggio though. But this is also one of the paintings from the plane.”

  Three of the four walls in the room had paintings leaning against them. It was clear that the paintings had been carefully placed so as not to damage the frames and, more importantly, the paintings themselves. I walked along the wall to the left of the door and stopped in front of the second last painting. “This looks like Tintoretto’s work.”

  Colin rushed to my side and, with the same care he’d taken with the other paintings, lifted the artwork. After a few seconds, he shook his head. “I can’t believe it. This is also authentic.”

  “How sure are you, Frey?”

  The stark gravity of Colin’s expression was worrisome. “I’ll stake my name on it. My real name.”

  “Holy fucking hell.” Manny scratched the stubble on his jaw. “You know what this means, right?”

  Colin nodded once. “This painting was supposed to be on the plane. That means the one on the plane is another forgery, most likely by the people Otto and Justine talked about. Those forgeries were good enough to pass as the originals.”

  “What do you think this means, Jen-girl?” Vinnie was leaning against the doorframe, his right hand resting on the gun holstered on his hip.

  I considered the implications of finding an entire collection of Renaissance art in the house of a criminal who was an incredible and immediate threat to Europe’s political stability. “To steal these paintings, replace them with passable forgeries, and hijack a plane that was transporting all these artworks takes strategic planning like I’ve not come across before.”

  “But what is his endgame, Doc?”

  I raised both shoulders. “I don’t know. So far everything he has done has been calculated. Which means that Daniel and Amélie Didden both being on the same plane as the forged paintings has significance. We need to find out why Fradkov needed both of them. Did he need them individually or is there something they can do together that will help him reach his goal?”

  “The problem is that we don’t know what his bloody goal is.” Manny sighed loudly. “Hell. We don’t know if he’s trying to overthrow a government, endorse some official, kill all the migrants, save all the migrants, kill ISIS, destroy Russia, stage a coup in Belarus or assassinate President Godard.”

  And we were not going to discover Fradkov’s motivation by standing in this room. I looked around the room “Is there anything else in here besides the paintings?”

  “Nope.” Vinnie pointed at the chair. “Pink and the team think that Fradkov used this room as a storage space for obvious reasons and as a quiet room to conduct business. This room is soundproof and has a satellite connection that could be used for internet or calls. Pink says it would be harder to trace if you’re looking for usual cell phone and internet activity.”

  “Doc?” Manny waved around the room. “Does this give you any insight into Fradkov?”

  “The room only indicates his desire to keep his communication secure. The paintings are much more revealing of his strategic planning skills. But I’ve already said that. I would prefer for us to move on.”

  “To the other address?” Manny asked.

  I nodded.

  “These paintings...” Colin sighed. “Millard, the artwork in this room is priceless. Individually, we’re looking at hundreds of thousands, but more likely millions a piece. These need to be taken to the team room and be handled with the utmost care.”

  “I thought you would want to be the one to oversee this.” Manny lowered his chin, glaring at Colin. “You’re coming with us?”

  Colin looked at the art, then looked at me. “I’m going where Jenny is going.”

  “Aw.” Vinnie drew out the word, the teasing smile around his eyes negating his affected adoration. “He’s such a romantic.”

  “Shut up, Vin.” Colin took my hand. “You are going to the other address, right?”

  “Yes. We might learn something that will lead us to understand his motivation.”

  “Good.” Manny nodded once. “Pink sent their second GIPN team to the address already to secure it and the bomb squad is on their way to make sure there are no nasty surprises for us.”

  “Where is Pink?” Colin asked.

  “With Frannie in the truck.” Vinnie rolled his eyes. “They were geeking out about getting blueprints and other shit for that new building. The two of them are getting all excited about using GIPN’s infrared again. Nerds.”

  “If it keeps us safe, they can be as nerdy as they want to be.” Manny took his phone from his trouser pocket. “I’m going to get Privott to mobilise a specialised team to transport all these paintings to the team room. We’re rolling out in ten minutes, so Frey, check as many paintings as you can in that time. Doc, start Mozarting. We need to figure out why Fradkov has authentic paintings here and hacked a plane to steal the fakes.”

  “Mozart isn’t a verb,” I said to Manny’s back as he left the room. He was already talking to Julien on his phone and didn’t respond.

  Colin squeezed my hand once, then let go to pick up another painting, his expression fluctuating between awe and horror. “The value of this art is beyond money. It’s the cultural heritage that should be treasured. How else will future generations be able to see how Uccello, Caravaggio and Lippi viewed the world during an era that bridged the Middle Ages and modern history?”

  “Dude, you’re geeking out now.” Vinnie snorted. “If it weren’t for Daniel and the team, I’d totally lose my manliness around you bunch.”

  Colin lifted another painting and stepped back, not taking his eyes off the still life. My eyes widened and I pushed him aside as I pointed at the computer on the floor. I wanted to take it and immediately search it for any information, but caution prevailed. “Vinnie, is it safe to take this computer?”

  Eleven minutes later, we were sitting in the GIPN truck, the computer on the desk in front of Francine. It had been a flurry of activity to ensure that the computer had been simply a computer. Edward had patiently reassured us that even the smallest traces of explosive would’ve been detected when they’d meticulously cleared the room.

  “Fradkov might be a genius in other ways, but his computer security really isn’t all that.” Francine puffed air through her lips. “Took me a whole three minutes to bypass all his attempts at keeping his computer safe.”

  “Stop bragging and tell us if there’s anything useful on it, supermodel.”

/>   “Hmm... let me see.” She tapped on the laptop’s touchpad and entered a few commands. “Well, what do you know.”

  “Supermodel.”

  “Okay, okay.” She waved her hand impatiently towards Manny. “You need to give me a minute to understand what I’m looking at.”

  Francine’s expressions of time were incorrect. She never took the minute or the second she said. This time was no different. In less than thirty seconds she leaned back in her chair and pointed at the computer monitor. “Who’s the queen of the world’s computers? Huh? Who?”

  “Bloody hell.” Manny leaned forward to look at the four security camera feeds that now filled the small monitor. “Are these live?”

  “Yes, they are, my handsomest handsome.” Her smile was self-satisfied as she watched the video footage of Fradkov’s second address. I recognised the building entrance and façade from the street-view we’d looked at when I’d found the second GPS co-ordinates on the third painting.

  “Are there any recordings of the feeds?” I asked

  “Ooh, that’s a good idea.” Francine worked on the computer for a few seconds, then bounced in her chair. “Here they are. What are we looking for?”

  “Fradkov.” I narrowed my eyes at the small monitor. “Is it possible to put that up on one of the bigger screens?”

  “Use monitor five.” Pink pointed at the largest of the monitors lining the truck’s wall. He was sitting next to Francine, the monitor in front of him displaying a blueprint.

  “This will take a minute.” Her tone was distracted as she fast-forwarded the footage. I was convinced she didn’t even realise that she was yet again expressing inaccurate time forecasts.

  I stared at the still image on the large monitor. The only indication that the recording was playing at an accelerated speed was the change of light from night to day and again to night. It took seven minutes before I noticed movement. “There. Slow it down.”

  Francine reacted immediately and slowed the recording to normal speed. One camera was pointing at the door of the building, the second camera at the entrance and the other two cameras at the interior of a large room.

  It was the man standing at the door who had caught my attention. The winter coat and wool hat didn’t successfully disguise the posture and movements that I’d come to know as uniquely Fradkov’s. The hat also didn’t completely cover his face. There was enough of his jawline and mouth visible to make a positive identification. “Ivan Fradkov.”

  “When was this?” Manny asked.

  Francine pointed at the time stamp in the top left corner of the monitor. “Yesterday morning at twenty-three minutes past two.”

  “Bloody hell. He is here.”

  On screen, Fradkov unlocked the door and entered the building. The door and the lock was commonplace enough that it would not attract anyone’s attention from the street. It was the second door, a metre and a half from the front door, that had the security I expected from Fradkov. He unlocked three heavy-duty locks, then pressed the doorbell to the left of the door. A small panel opened under the doorbell to reveal a keypad and he entered a very long code into the pad. The thick metal door slid open.

  “We got you.” Francine rubbed her palms together. “You smug bastard. We got you.”

  “I’m just glad it’s not a retina scanner or thumbprint or palm print or such thing.” Pink shook his head. “That’s a crazy long code he entered. If we hadn’t found this recording, it would’ve taken us a long time to hack the code. Now it’s all there.”

  I took a step back and crossed my arms tightly over my chest. “No. This isn’t right.”

  “What do you mean, Doc?”

  “This is too easy.”

  “You think Fradkov is setting us up? This is a trap?”

  “I don’t know.” I rubbed my arms. Loose bits of information were niggling in the back of my head, but I couldn’t point to the key element they were trying to reveal. “Fradkov is too thorough in his planning. To make this kind of careless mistake does not fit in with the detailed strategy we’ve witnessed so far.”

  “Okay then.” Manny looked at Pink. “Extreme caution. We’ll breach, but only after Edward gives us the green light and even then, I want everyone tiptoeing around.”

  An hour and a half later we were standing in Rue de Gare, in front of Fradkov’s second address. It was cold. I crossed my arms and looked at Edward as he opened the back of the large bomb squad van. “Are you sure?”

  “You’ve watched us clear that ground floor apartment and the rest of the building.” Edward put a large device into the van, then pointed at the vehicle. “We have state-of-the-art tech in here and we didn’t pick up any hint of explosives. It’s safe to go in.”

  I turned back to the building and stared at it. The same as the other buildings on this block, it was an art nouveau design. The bomb squad and Daniel’s team had worked in tandem to clear the building. They’d first determined that there were no other occupants inside. The infrared images had shown red sleeping figures in both neighbouring buildings, but had not shown any heat signature in the one I was reluctant to enter.

  “Doc!” Manny stood in the open doorway and beckoned me with an impatient wave. “Let’s get this done before midnight.”

  I had all the data to reassure me that it was safe to go in, yet something in my subconscious strongly resisted the idea.

  “Jenny?” Colin put his arm around my shoulders and pulled me against his side. “Why don’t you stay here? We’ll check out the apartment. If you want to join us, you can. If you don’t, then you just wait in the truck with Francine.”

  “No.” I stepped out of his embrace. “I’ll go in.”

  “At bloody last.” Manny snapped his fingers. “Come on then. Let’s do this.”

  I walked past Manny into the building. The front door and short entrance hall looked exactly like the video footage from the computer we’d found in Fradkov’s secret room. The door to the right was standing open. I’d watched from the GIPN truck when Pink had keyed in the long code. The same tension I’d felt then now tightened the muscles in my throat until it felt like I was suffocating.

  “Come on in, Jen-girl.” Vinnie was standing on the other side of a spacious room. “You’re gonna wanna see this.”

  I started playing Mozart’s piano concerto in my mind as I took three calming breaths. I straightened my shoulders and stepped into the room. At one point this might have been a one- or even two-bedroom apartment. Now it was one large open space. It was decorated in the same minimalistic, modern style as the home office in Fradkov’s house.

  The kitchen against the wall to the left was utilitarian. There was nothing decorative or extra to suggest that food had ever been prepared in that space. Next to it an open door led to a well-lit bathroom. Even though I didn’t like the modern finishings, I did appreciate the simple and clean appearance of the all-white room.

  The only window would’ve opened up to the street if it had not been solid, triple-glazed glass. I recognised the small cream plastic containers in each of the corners. Vinnie had put the sound maskers on all of the windows in our apartments, the team room as well as every window in Rousseau & Rousseau’s offices. Their sole purpose was to distort any sound made inside, preventing anyone from using laser microphones or parabolic listening devices to listen in on confidential, or in our case top-secret, conversations.

  Only a large white sofa, a king-sized bed and a long wooden table furnished this apartment. These few pieces of furniture looked lost in the open space. I narrowed my eyes when small dots on the walls caught my attention. I walked closer to the wall opposite the door to have a closer look.

  “Nails.” Vinnie flicked one with his index finger. “We’re guessing ol’ Fradkov had the walls here full of paintings.”

  “You would most likely be right.” Colin stood next to me, also looking at the wall. He turned around and inspected the other three walls. “So many nails.”

  If each nail had held a p
ainting, the apartment that now appeared Spartan would’ve been alive with artwork.

  Colin rolled back on his heels. “And I’m willing to bet my bottom dollar he had his panic room collection here.”

  “He’s cleaned out this place.” Pink adjusted the assault weapon slung over his shoulder and pointed at the open cupboard. “That is the only storage space in this apartment and as you can see, it’s empty.”

  “What about the other apartments?” This building had four floors. I would be surprised if all the apartments were completely empty.

  “Nothing.” Pink shook his head. “My guys went through every single one of them and found only dust balls.”

  “They’re quite well-maintained though. None of them look like they’ve been empty for a long time.” Vinnie had joined the GIPN team when they’d cleared the building. “But it’s such a waste of space. He could make extra money renting out all these apartments.”

  “Hmm.” Manny walked to the centre of the room and slowly turned in a complete circle. “Is there anything worth seeing here, Doc? Anything that can help us?”

  I took my time looking around the open space. Similar to his home office in the house, this apartment also didn’t have much to reveal Fradkov, the man. That in itself offered a great insight. He must have expected us and therefore had removed the only things of value to him. I was sure that if he’d had more time, he would’ve removed the nails and painted the walls to remove all traces that he’d had his collection in this space.

  I joined Manny at the centre of the room, next to the sofa. The only insight the furniture offered was that Fradkov had expensive and modern taste. I tilted my head and looked at the ceiling. Immediate recognition sent a shudder through my body. I wrapped my arms around my torso and stared at the difference in the paint. “Turn off the lights.”

  “Say what now?” Manny asked.

  I didn’t take my eyes off the ceiling. “I think it might be phosphorescent paint.”

  “Glow-in-the-dark paint?” Vinnie walked to the light switch at the front door.

  Colin joined me, also looking up. “It’s hard to see that there’s different types of paint. Well spotted, love.”