by Estelle Ryan
Colin was next to me on the sofa, chatting to Manny. Our hands had all healed from the fire and breaking through the wall. I hadn’t realised how much I’d come to enjoy the feel of Colin’s hand on my forearm or his fingers entwined with mine.
They were talking about the fallout of Celma’s actions. Manny glanced at Francine like he’d been doing nonstop, as if to reassure himself of her health. He sighed and looked back to Colin. “It might come down to President Katombi having to resign. Celma did all of that on his watch. His opposition is challenging his competence. Their reason is that if he’s not able to discover such a far-reaching conspiracy in his own family, how can he promise to keep Angola corruption-free?”
“It’s not fair to President Katombi,” Colin said. “But it is an argument that sounds valid. Damn. It would really be a pity if he has to step down. I spoke to him quite a bit and he impressed me.”
My shutdown in that conference room had lasted almost two hours. I hadn’t allowed anyone near me, so Colin had stayed on the floor with me while numerous law enforcement agencies stormed into the room. Apparently, it had turned into a ‘circus’, as Vinnie described it.
President Katombi had refused to leave until Celma was taken out by a specially appointed coroner. While the investigators were working around her body, he’d sat down next to Colin on the floor and they’d started talking. When I’d finally come out of my shutdown, they’d been discussing President Katombi’s favourite artists. Both men had been animated talking about their shared interest.
“What about your aliases, Frey?” Manny raised one eyebrow. “Are your days as a criminal now finally over?”
“Only in your dreams, Millard.” Colin laughed softly when Manny made a rude gesture. “But yes, I’m burned. I won’t be using any of the poets anymore. It’s a new challenge. Maybe this time I’ll find inspiration for new aliases in old, tired Interpol agents.”
“Bugger off.” Manny’s smile belied his rude words.
It was irrational for me to hope Colin wouldn’t use aliases again. Yet I did. Clearly, I needed more time to recover from my experience with the Collector. This had been one of the most challenging cases I’d yet worked. I was glad it was over.
“Dan.” Vinnie chuckled when Daniel turned with suspicion written all over his face. “Nah, man. No more suggestions from me. I think your cooking is okay. Not half as brilliant as mine, of course. But okay.”
“Gee, thanks.”
“What I was going to ask before you jumped on your high horse was if Thierry and Bianca are going to join us.”
“Not today.” Daniel sobered, yet his lips twitched. “Thierry says Bianca is terrible company. She can walk, but she hates the canes she has to use and shouts at him every time he dares offer to help her.”
“That’s my girl.” Francine smiled. “Hey, do we know what happened to President Pedroso’s security guys? Are they okay?”
Daniel picked up a wooden spoon and stirred the contents of the largest pot. “One is already home, the other still in hospital. And of course, they lost one man.”
“That’s heart-breaking.” Francine rubbed her shoulder. “Do we know what Celma used to spike the food?”
Daniel’s lips compressed. “No. It’s been a week and they’re still waiting for the test results from the Lisbon lab. I can’t say I’m impressed with them.”
“Then how did the doctors know how to treat the security guys?” Nikki righted the cutlery next to a table setting. She’d insisted on setting the table and had had Pink help her.
“One of them knew something was wrong a minute after he started eating his burger and chips.” Daniel leaned against the kitchen counter and folded his arms. “He immediately forced himself to vomit. But it was a bit late for the others. They’d already finished theirs. They also forced themselves to vomit, but more of it had hit their systems by then.”
“Would you like for me to follow up on the tox screen results?” Roxy had been quiet today. She was exhausted. The last year had taken its toll on her, the dark rings under her eyes confirming that.
Daniel shook his head. “You have more than enough on your plate, Roxy. They promised to let me know when they have the results. I’ll get my team to send the two men a gift basket.”
“Mommy!” Eric ran into the living area, straight to Nikki, but then changed his mind and stopped in front of Pink. “Pink, Billie is hiding. Come get her. Come.”
Pink’s smile was filled with affection as Eric pulled his hand. “I think we’re about to eat, big man. Why don’t you and I go and wash our hands. Uncle Dan is making lamb biryani.”
“What is lambrani?” Eric looked up at Pink as they walked to the guest washroom. Pink explained patiently to Eric, who promptly refused to eat a baby sheep.
Nikki burst out laughing. “I swear, he’s going to be some kind of environmentalist vegan lawyer one day.”
“Should I make something else for him?” Daniel looked at the pots on the stove. “I didn’t make this spicy at all.”
“No.” Nikki waved her hand. “The moment he sees the food, he’ll eat it. His days of being a fussy eater are over. He’s like a vacuum cleaner now. And thanks for holding back the spices.” She winked at Vinnie. “And the vanilla.”
Daniel laughed and nodded at the pots on the stove. “Food’s ready. I think it’s best if we dish up here. My table is not big enough to comfortably hold the food as well.”
I waited for the others to dish up before I followed Colin to the kitchen. The lamb dish and basmati rice were fragrant and made me realise how hungry I was. I took a bit more than I usually would.
Daniel’s dining room table had been extended to comfortably seat the nine of us. But we were missing a person. Phillip Rousseau. I’d started this journey because he’d hired me to work for his high-end insurance company. In fifteen years I’d known him, he’d become like a father to me.
He had visited me the day after we’d returned from Portugal and it had been good to see him. He’d wanted to be with us today, but yesterday had started feeling ill. He had assured me it was only a cold, but in the current situation was not willing to expose any of us to something that could compromise our immune systems. I deeply appreciated that. And I worried. I planned to phone him later today to make sure his symptoms were not worse. That it was not something more threatening than a cold.
Daniel had made a large amount of food—enough for us to eat our fill and for Pink and Nikki to take Phillip a few servings he could refrigerate and enjoy while he got better.
“Did you get into that drive, Francine?” Daniel asked when we all settled at the table.
Francine put her fork back on her plate. “Ooh, did I ever. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. It’s a bit of an extra challenge with one hand not as fast as usual, but I broke the encryption to the drive two days ago.”
Francine had phoned me the moment she’d gained access to the drive Colin had found in the wardrobe safe. She’d only been able to start working on it four days after it was found. It had taken her only three hours to break the encryption.
“Celma made it a bit difficult, but not to the level I know she was able to. I think she did that to make it look real, but make it easy enough for so-so police hackers to get the intel inside that would implicate her uncle.”
“And?” Nikki asked.
“There was loads of stuff that would make her uncle look worse than Al Capone. Tonnes of money-laundering deals, extortion all over the place. Seriously, so much that it will keep the authorities busy for a long while sifting through it.”
“Any of it real?” Nikki took a sip of her wine, her eyes wide with interest.
“Not my job.” Francine picked up her fork again. “Even if none of it is real, it’s done a lot of damage.”
“I agree with Manny,” Daniel said. “President Katombi might have to resign. His government will be investigating all these allegations and it might not be that easy to disprove Celma’s carefully planned-out work.”
�
��You’re very quiet, girlfriend.” Francine winked at me. “I mean, more than usual.”
“I’m listening.” And enjoying being with my chosen family. “When I have something to say, I will.”
“Hmm.” She tapped a manicured finger on her chin. “Maybe you can tell me why Celma went after her uncle and the boys’ mothers. Wouldn’t it make more sense to take her revenge on the boys who had raped her?”
“The key word you used is ‘sense’.” I’d given this considerable thought. “When someone deals with the kind of trauma Celma had gone through, little makes sense. Except maybe to them.”
“I can’t even imagine,” Nikki said softly.
“Had anyone told those women about this?” Roxy asked.
Manny nodded. “Scotland Yard contacted them, since their names were used to open those accounts. They knew nothing about that.”
“Is that true?” Roxy looked at me. “Did they really not know?”
“I didn’t speak to them.” And couldn’t judge their responses to being interviewed. “But nothing in the case points to their involvement.”
We were quiet for a few seconds.
“This was a tough one.” Francine sighed. “But also complex. The extent to which Celma went to set up her uncle and those women is mindboggling. When I was working through the drive from the safe, I had a few moments where I was really impressed with how intricately she planned this.
“The three companies were fully functional, but they only did business with each other. Money flowed from the one to the other in such a way that it looked legit enough. But my brain kinda froze with how convoluted the finances were. I don’t know if even forensic accountants could make sense of that.”
“Tell them about Bree.” Nikki wiggled her eyebrows. She’d been so excited when she’d visited me two nights ago and Bree had called. Both of them had been happy for Nikki to join in on the video call. They’d taken over that conversation with a lot of laughter and general good energy. I hadn’t minded.
“Ooh, yes!” Francine shifted in her chair, the tension in her face lifting. “So, I phoned Bree to thank her for that email and to tell her that we’re sending her a supersize gift voucher for her favourite cupcake shop.”
“Bree is going to write an article about this case,” Nikki blurted. “She’s not going to name the boys, since the statute of limitation is long gone for rape, but she’s definitely going to name Celma.”
“And that might be the last nail in President Katombi’s political coffin,” Daniel said. “A pity.”
“Hey, girlfriend. What do you think about Armando and Inge working for President Pedroso?” Francine nudged Manny with her healthy elbow. “You’re a bad influence, my shnookums. Converting criminals all over the world.”
Manny grunted, but looked at me, waiting for my answer.
“When Inge asked Manny to consider helping her find work like ours, her request was genuine. I believe she truly wants to help people.”
“What about Armando?” Pink’s mouth twisted. “In my opinion, he likes stealing a bit too much to give up the life.”
“Unless the new life requires him to use those skills.” Colin leaned over to look at Manny. “You know, like breaking into a safe.”
“Bugger off, Frey.”
“Colin is right.” I thought about this a bit more. “Armando would follow Inge’s lead. He’s infatuated with her and would do a lot to win her trust and love.”
“Aw. Sweet, sweet love.” Francine fluttered her eyelids. “I knew those two had magic going on between them. Who knows where this will lead?”
“Birdwatching.” Daniel chuckled. “Armando discovered Inge shared his interest in birds. Last I heard, they were planning a trip to an estuary outside Lisbon. Apparently, it’s rich with bird life.”
“Birdwatching?” Vinnie snorted. “Birdwatching. Who does that?”
“A lot of people.” Roxy narrowed her eyes at him. “Should we start talking about your obsession with cooking blogs? I mean, who does that?”
Vinnie tried to look offended, but failed and a mischievous smile pulled his lips up. “Should I tell Franny about the new sneakers you bought?”
Roxy laughed and slapped him lightly on his arm. “Don’t you dare.” Then she turned to shake her finger at Francine. “Not a word from you, you fashion snob.”
Francine widened her eyes and I sighed. I knew that playful look—she was about to stir up trouble. “Ooh, are we name-calling? Are we? Can I call you Miss Messy-Hair? Or Miss Sneaker-Hoarder? Or Vin, can I call you Mr Vanilla from now on? I mean, even I know vanilla is not for meat.”
Everyone laughed.
“I don’t think there’s much vanilla about the big punk.” Nikki clapped her hands, which made Eric laugh. “Wait. That’s why the name would be perfect. Like calling a tall man ‘Shorty’.”
The banter continued and I enjoyed Daniel’s cooking. It had been a pleasant surprise when he’d invited us for lunch. He’d apologised that he hadn’t done it earlier, but we all understood. Our lives, our job didn’t always allow for planning social events. Or even thinking about planning a social event.
“Genevieve, I want to run something by you.” Francine laughed softly when I lifted one eyebrow. “I promise it won’t be too outlandish.”
“That’s not much reassurance.” But I was mentally and emotionally in a good place. “Go ahead. I’ll indulge you.”
She laughed. “Wow. Thanks. But seriously, I’ve been thinking about Paulo.”
“Motherf—” Vinnie glanced at Eric. “Motherfluffball.”
Again, everyone laughed. Nikki kissed Eric’s head. “Thanks, Vin.”
“So, my theory.” Francine waited until I nodded. Then she looked at the others. “There was more intel on that drive. More than just the corruption stuff pointing to President Katombi. It revealed criminal dealings of politicians and top businessmen all over the world. I’m talking market manipulation, sex crimes, trafficking—drugs, women, men and children—smuggling everything from exotic birds to cheap cigarettes, rhino horns and a bunch more stuff. It also had intel on a few social media influencers’ activities on the dark web.”
“Any of it real?” Manny asked. “Or are these also creations of Celma’s imagination to set more people up?”
“I checked out a few. They’re real.” She paused dramatically. “I think Paulo wanted that drive. Looking at his history, it makes sense that he would love to have that kind of information to sell, to use for blackmail and to control a lot of powerful people.” She turned to me. “What do you think?”
“It’s a sensible theory.” I thought about it some more. “What I observed about Paulo and what I learned about him makes me suspect that he would value this information more than money. The theory about him wanting cash in Celma’s house would’ve also made sense, but this fits better.”
Francine straightened and pointed at herself, faux-preening. “Not just a pretty face. Huh? Huh?”
“A pretty face that got herself bloody shot.” Manny finished cutting a baked sweet potato and put the slices on Francine’s plate. “Took a good ten years off my life.”
She kissed his cheek. “I’ve apologised a million times already.”
“Not enough,” he groused, but leaned in for another kiss.
“My grumpy teddy bear.” Francine’s kiss on his cheek was tender. “I will apologise another million times. Maybe it will get you those ten years back.”
“Hmph.”
“Come on, old man.” Vinnie got up with his empty plate and walked to the stove. “You gotta give Franny some credit. Playing possum like that, then jumping up like a badass in time to save the day? All with a gunshot wound?” He nodded his head slowly and put his fist on his chest. “Respect, Franny. Respect.”
“Don’t bloody encourage her.” Manny huffed when his phone pinged. He tapped the screen and grunted. “Bloody hell.”
Francine leaned over to look at his phone. “Ooh! Armando’s cat.”
“Did he really take that ginger tabby?” Daniel paused then chuckled. “And, dare I ask, why is Armando sending you pics of his cat?”
“Bloody thief thinks we’re friends. He keeps calling me ‘boss’.” Manny turned his phone so we could see the selfie of Armando holding the contented-looking cat next to his face. I shuddered when I saw the ginger hair on Armando’s black t-shirt and immediately looked down at my jeans. I would have to use my lint brush when I got home. If I were to visit Daniel again, I might have to invest in better cat hair removal products.
I considered this while the others teased Manny for his soft heart. When President Pedroso had asked President Godard about building a team like ours, the latter had asked Manny if he would be willing to advise. Manny had agreed only on the condition that President Pedroso included Inge and Armando in the team he planned to create.
They’d already had three video meetings to discuss establishing a well-rounded team. I was glad I had no part in it. My expertise was not in team-building or teamwork. Being in a team had been one of the biggest challenges I’d faced. One of the biggest learning experiences. But it was worth it.
Daniel served a baked dessert and put a small bottle of vanilla essence next to Vinnie in case he had the need for more. The bantering, laughter and undisguised affection between these people brought healing to my mind that no amount of Mozart had ever given me. This was where I found my strength, my balance, my courage to try more, be more.
Through the many investigations we’d done together, they’d shown me acceptance, humour and an openness to different viewpoints I’d not come across often. I had no doubt that I would continue to witness their integrity and drive to do the right thing no matter what art crimes we were still to encounter.
Learn more about the dark web, Lisbon and Portuguese colonialism, look at the paintings by José Malhoa and José de Almada Negreiros at:
https://estelleryan.com/the-malhoa-connection.html
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