The Uccello Connection (Genevieve Lenard, #10)

by Estelle Ryan

  “Yes. Oh, yes.” His shoulders relaxed. “This would not be as much fun if I wasn’t going to blow more people up.”

  I pointed at his face. “You’re lying.”

  “You hope I’m lying.”

  “No.” I shook my head. “You’ve been watching me, observing my behaviour. And I’ve been studying you for months. On top of the profile on you that I built, I also have spent the last ten minutes learning your nonverbal cues. You are lying. There are no more bombs.”

  He blinked a few times, then a genuine smile lifted his cheeks and wrinkled the corners of his small eyes. “This is why I want you to work with me. You’re even better than I’d expected.”

  Yet he was everything I had expected. Ivan Fradkov was not the first psychopath I had observed. Even though people like him were known for their pathological lying, they still revealed themselves with nonverbal cues. Not quite in the same manner as neurotypical people, but the clues were there and easy to identify if one knew what to look for. I did.

  “You enjoyed the fear and chaos you caused with the bomb threats.” I nodded when he smiled. “There were only the five polonium-210 bombs.”

  “Yes.”

  Again his expression gave him away. I narrowed my eyes. “Your arrogance made you miscalculate the probability of failing yet again.” I almost smiled at the flush of anger on his face before he controlled it and leaned against the Mercedes, his entire body relaxed. “You didn’t have a backup plan.”

  “I did.” A small smile pulled at the corners of his mouth. “You.”

  “Me?” I made sure to look surprised and a bit flattered. I was anything but flattered. I wasn’t Fradkov’s backup plan. I was his desperate attempt not to fail again. And I was the cause of that failure. What better revenge than making me suffer for his defeat. “I won’t be able to secure that piece of land in Siberia for you.”

  “Don’t be so sure about that.” He glanced at the weapon in his hand and smiled. “After watching you, I’ve come to believe that you are the missing ingredient to my plan.”

  “So, you wanted to play this game with me and then have me agree to work with you.” I realised now how important it was to him that I went with him willingly. He didn’t want to force me to become his partner. “Why?”

  He put the handgun in a holster on his hip. “You are so much more than what you’re doing at the moment. It took me merely one day to realise how much of your talent is going to waste with these people you call your friends. They distract you. All that emotion, all that attention you have to pay to what you say and when you say it. It’s leagues beneath you.”

  An uncommon anger rose in me. Yes, the emotional chaos that reigned in my friendships was most distracting, but I had analysed the pros and cons. The benefits of having Colin, Phillip, Vinnie, Francine, Manny, Nikki and now Roxy in my life outweighed the distress. And this man, this criminal, had succeeded in making me doubt the value of the people in my life. Never again.

  “I can see I have not yet convinced you.” Fradkov smirked. “So tell me, Doctor Genevieve Lenard, when is the last time you published an academic paper? You’re like me. You need cerebral challenges. There is nothing that excites me as much as doing research into a new project.”

  “Your so-called projects are illegal.” They were plans to overthrow governments.

  “But much more challenging than your little art crime cases. If that does not convince you, how about this: When is the last time you travelled? The last time you learned something new that didn’t have to do with useless relationships? When is the last time you felt alive because of your work and not on the verge of a breakdown?”

  There was much truth in what he was saying. But he was presenting a one-sided argument. I didn’t respond. There was no sense in justifying my life choices to this man. Seeing him and everything he represented sent an overwhelming sense of gratefulness for the people I knew were fighting to get to me.

  “Come with me.” Excitement around his eyes and mouth indicated that he thought he’d swayed me. “You will never again suffer from too much emotional stimulation.”

  I thought of Nikki in the hospital, very likely telling Eric to wait for me and then saying the most inappropriate things in front of Isabelle and the other doctors. I thought of Phillip and his gentle patience and firm correction whenever my social skills weren’t appropriate. Colin’s unfailing love, Vinnie’s protective friendship, Francine’s unconditional acceptance, Manny’s stability, Roxy’s bubbly nature.

  Could I truly imagine my life without these people? They’d brought a facet into my life that I would not have experienced had I continued living my isolated life. I might never be as emotionally open as Nikki and Roxy or as tolerant and patient as Phillip and Colin, but being on the receiving end of their neurotypical behaviour had enriched my life.

  Fradkov sighed. “I’m so disappointed.” He took the gun from the holster. “I had expected you to be a true peer. Far superior to these plebeian emotions, ambitions and limitations. Now I’ll have to—”

  The door blasted towards us, followed immediately by a loud flash. I fell to the ground, and not because this was what Vinnie and Manny had repeatedly told me to do whenever there was gunfire. No. I fell to the ground because my leg muscles simply refused to obey any more signals from my brain.

  I curled into a foetal position and became aware of a burning sensation on my upper arm. Around me the garage filled with gunshots, shouting and more gunshots. Darkness filled most of my vision and for a single heartbeat I considered giving in to it.

  Then I thought of the way Nikki had pulled her shoulders back to face childbirth without me.

  I started fighting.

  I focused all my energy on pushing Mozart’s Violin Sonata No. 20 in C major into my overwrought mind. Note by note, I mentally wrote the Adagio. And for the first time in my life, I simultaneously tried to maintain awareness of my surroundings. I didn’t want to lose myself to Mozart. I wanted to be in control when the shooting stopped. I wanted to rush to the hospital to be there before Eric arrived.

  For two seconds, silence filled the garage. I wrote another three notes before lifting my head and looking towards the door. Colin ran to me and fell on his knees beside me. “Jenny! Are you okay?”

  I tried to speak, but couldn’t. I barely managed a nod and looked past Colin. Manny and Vinnie was standing next to Fradkov’s prone body. A pool of blood was growing around his torso. Manny was shouting into his phone for the rest of the GIPN team. And for a body bag. Fradkov was dead.

  “Jenny.” Colin took my hands and squeezed until I looked at him. “Are you okay?”

  “Yes.” I remembered my shoulder and looked down. “No.”

  “What’s wrong?” Colin’s eyebrows shot up when he saw the bloodstain on my shoulder. “You’re hurt.”

  “I don’t think it’s anything serious. I want to go to the hospital.”

  “Bloody hell!” Manny walked over. “Why the blazes do you need the hospital? How bad is the injury?”

  “No. No, no, no.” I swallowed away the panic when I realised that doctors and nurses would be touching me. “I want to go to Nikki.”

  Manny pointed at my shoulder, a scowl pulling his brow down. “Then what the bleeding hell is that?”

  I shrugged, then groaned. And then I smiled.

  I felt the pain. I was sitting on the dirty floor of a garage, looking at Manny’s scowl deepening and Colin’s confusion. This had been a traumatic event, yet I wasn’t in a shutdown or, even worse, a meltdown.

  Colin pressed my hands against his chest. “Jenny?”

  “Take me to the hospital.”

  Chapter TWENTY-SIX

  “Colin, can you take Eric for a moment?” Phillip walked to the sofa and carefully handed the tiny human being to Colin.

  Two weeks had passed since Fradkov’s death. Two weeks since Eric’s birth. The race to the hospital hadn’t given me enough time to prepare myself for what was to come.

&
nbsp; I had managed to keep my shutdown at bay throughout the confrontation with Fradkov, Vinnie’s frightening driving through the city to reach the hospital in time and even the doctor insisting on cleaning the flesh wound on my upper arm. Not even the three stitches he had put through my skin had caused me to shut down.

  But the moment Nikki had screamed in pain as another contraction hit and I’d seen the absolute agony on her face, everything had gone dark. I’d had no control. And I’d missed Eric’s birth. Colin had managed to put me on the sofa in the corner of Nikki’s luxury birthing room where I’d stayed curled up, rocking and keening long after the nurses had taken Eric away and brought him back.

  When I’d eventually come out of my shutdown, Nikki had been asleep with Eric resting on her chest. I’d gone home. The deep disappointment still bothered me. Nikki had assured me numerous times that my physical presence had been enough to give her strength. She’d been truthful.

  That night I’d blurted out to Colin how I’d come to resent the emotional limitations surrounding my friendships. A few times my voice had completely disappeared when I’d admitted my shame.

  He’d been shocked. Not at my resentment, but that I’d felt so ashamed. He’d touched my forearm and told me everyone, neurotypical and not, had to find their own place within relationships, find their own balance between their needs and the needs of others. And he’d laughed when he’d said that he didn’t know if anyone ever found that balance. Apparently, it was very difficult.

  Now I was challenged to add another person to the dynamics in my life. Even though Eric had been born two weeks premature, he’d weighed a healthy four point six kilograms. Nikki had trouble breastfeeding him, but he’d shown no signs of distress feeding from a bottle. He was an easy baby and was sleeping quietly in Colin’s arms.

  I kept reminding everyone that the books insisted that babies should sleep in their beds, but no one heeded my warnings. I’d been the only one who’d accumulated a collection of books and had studied them vigorously. The others insisted they were going on natural instinct.

  Colin settled deeper into the sofa and looked at me. “Maybe today?”

  “No.” I still hadn’t had the courage to hold Eric in my arms. I’d touched his soft skin and had stopped breathing for a few seconds when he gripped my index finger three days ago.

  His complete vulnerability and dependence scared me. Only when I’d been four years old and my parents had left me alone at the hospital for more tests had I been more terrified. I’d learned to deal with that fear and was determined to overcome this as well.

  “When’s dinner?” Nikki walked into the living area and sat down on my other side. “I’m starving.”

  “Patience, little punk.” Vinnie turned away from the stove to look at us. “My Auntie Helen’s lasagna will take another ten minutes or so.”

  “I’ll come and help you. I’m sure you forgot to add lemongrass and rosemary.” Francine started getting up from the other sofa, but Roxy grabbed her arm and pulled her back down.

  “I’ll keep her here and protect your cooking, snookums.” Roxy threw both legs over Francine’s lap and exaggerated the hold she had on Francine’s arm. “I’ve got her. You’re safe. Your cooking’s safe. Auntie Helen is safe!”

  Nikki laughed and leaned over me to look at Eric. “I’m sad his wrinkles are disappearing. He no longer looks like Gollum.”

  I had researched that name the first time Nikki had called Eric that. I’d been utterly appalled when I’d seen online images of the fictional creature from a popular book and movie. Nikki had only laughed and told me to think of it like Francine calling Manny ‘handsome’. We’d then spent twenty-three minutes in a strong disagreement about her comparison. She’d giggled more than argued.

  “How’s Marty?” Roxy let go of Francine’s arm, but didn’t move her legs. She was wearing bell-bottom jeans, a flowy top and running shoes. Francine glared at the footwear with her top lip curled in disgust.

  “He was here this afternoon.” Nikki settled back in her space and I exhaled in relief. “He says hello.”

  “Did he take Eric out?”

  “Yeah.” Nikki touched her hair. “Gave me three hours to have a long bath and clean up our room. It feels like all I’m doing is cleaning.”

  Martin had visited Nikki every day at the hospital and had been here every second day to take care of Eric for a few hours. Today was the first time he’d taken Eric outside. I’d made sure he knew about the importance of keeping Eric wrapped up while out in the winter temperatures.

  I’d had to remind myself numerous times that I should trust Nikki’s judgement. She’d been watching Martin handle Eric and was confident that the baby would be completely safe with his father. I still had my doubts.

  “I hear it gets worse as they get older.” Roxy widened her eyes as if horrified. “They go through five or more sets of clothes a day and make a mess wherever they go.”

  Francine slapped Roxy’s leg, pushed both legs off her lap and looked at me. “Eric will be fine. No messes.”

  “You don’t have to protect me from a baby, Francine.” I looked at the small body resting in Colin’s arms and wondered if I’d just told an untruth. In many ways I felt threatened by this little human being, even if the threats were mostly irrational and related to my emotional equilibrium.

  A soft ping sounded from the front door and both Colin and Vinnie became more alert. Vinnie put the wooden spoon down on the holder next to the stove and walked to the front door, his body language aggressive. The tension in his muscles relaxed marginally when keys turned and the door opened to reveal Manny and Daniel.

  “Waiting at the door for us, big guy?” Manny gave Vinnie a sideways glance and walked to the sofas. “If you’re hoping for a hug, ask Roxy.”

  “Screw you, old man.” Vinnie bumped his fist against Daniel’s. “How’s Pink?”

  “The doctors say there’s increased brain activity, but he’s not waking up yet.” Only the bruise on Daniel’s left cheek remained after his kidnapping. The lacerations on his face had healed well and he no longer favoured his side as he walked.

  Daniel had left the Zénith only after the police had evacuated the concert hall and the bomb squad had declared it clear of any explosive devices. He and Manny had made sure that all the cities had searched all public areas. There hadn’t been any more bombs. Fradkov had indeed lied about more bombs.

  But he’d been truthful about delaying the team. During the surprise dance performance in the entrance hall, another three hundred people had flooded the area. They’d all worn black clothes that closely resembled the GIPN uniforms and had crowded the real GIPN team, limiting their movements.

  Colin had told me Manny had been so furious, Colin had expected him to start shooting at the group crowding him. Vinnie hadn’t shot anyone, but the people crowding him had quickly dispersed when he’d punched and broken the noses of two men.

  This show of force had been enough to scare off a lot of the others. But by this time, I’d already disappeared. Fortunately, Francine had been able to follow me. She’d directed them to the room with the red door. Panic still tightened my chest when I thought of how they had almost been too late.

  Daniel’s team had waited with him until everything had been cleared. Then they’d forced him to go the hospital. It had been the next day. Daniel had had his injuries treated and examined and had visited Pink. I had not been to visit Pink. My mind was still fragile after the confrontation with Fradkov. Many things he had said were still mulling around in my thoughts.

  “Three more minutes and the food’s done.” Vinnie walked back to the kitchen. “You might as well grab your seats.”

  Colin looked down at Eric. The reluctance to put the baby down was clear on his face. He looked at Nikki. “Can you fetch his blanket? Then I’ll put him on the sofa. He’ll be with us when we eat.”

  “Okey-dokey.” She jumped up and walked towards her room. The first three days she’d been back in the apa
rtment had been difficult. She’d been uncomfortable after giving natural birth and had been worried about Eric not breastfeeding.

  I had immediately bought books on bottle-feeding the moment the doctor had told Nikki that she was not producing enough milk. I’d read through them all and quoted the numerous studies to Nikki. It had calmed me to see her relax when I told her about the countless adults who hadn’t been breastfed and had shown no long-term effects.

  After that, she’d recovered much quicker. I still smiled every time I thought about her shouts of joy two days ago when she realised she could see her feet. And that her feet weren’t swollen. She was also excited that she could be wearing ‘normal’ clothes soon.

  Nikki rushed back to the sofa and put the soft cream blanket next to me. I got up and watched as Colin gently laid Eric down without waking him. I had wondered how my sleep was going to be interrupted by a crying baby, but so far I had only heard him a few times. His crying sounded to me like prolonged hiccoughs. And he stopped the moment his mouth latched onto the teat of the bottle.

  I followed the others to the table, amazed at how such a small being could dominate the thoughts and conversations of everyone now settled around the table.

  My dining room table comfortably seated eight people, but today Vinnie had set a place for Daniel as well. Francine didn’t seem to be troubled by sitting so close to Roxy. Not even when Roxy accidentally knocked over the salt shaker. I stared at the spilled salt until Francine put a napkin over it and smiled at me.

  “I set up that account.” Francine looked at Daniel. “So you can tell Pink’s doctors they can go ahead with the treatment.”

  “Oh, goodie.” Roxy exhaled in relief. “Doctor Lenoir and Doctor Falco are really the best of the best when it comes to spinal injuries. Their treatments have helped many people.”

  “But it’s bloody expensive.” Manny leaned away to give Vinnie space to put the large serving bowls on the table. “Do we have enough money?”