by Estelle Ryan
“Road trip!” Vinnie’s hands fisted in a celebratory manner. “Hey, can I choose the music?”
Eric mimicked Vinnie by throwing his small fists in the air and babbling. Everyone laughed. I didn’t.
I didn’t want to change my routine.
Chapter THREE
I WALKED FROM THE HOTEL bathroom into our room for the third time, fighting hard against the panic pushing down on my brain. We’d arrived thirty minutes ago after six hours and forty-seven minutes on the road.
We had left Strasbourg twelve minutes past four this morning. Twelve minutes late. I’d been most annoyed at Roxy for pulling Vinnie back into their bedroom. He’d joined us in the living room fifteen minutes later, his cheeks slightly reddened and a genuine smile lifting his cheeks. I’d been vexed.
The journey itself had been uneventful. Vinnie had slept most of the way, declaring us boring. Colin and I had debated the sense of Daylight Saving Time for two and a half hours before we’d found acceptable middle ground on the topic. I still maintained it was counterproductive, since it had been proven that the human circadian clock never adjusted to the time change, which resulted in a drastic decrease in productivity and quality of life and an increase in susceptibility to illness due to fatigue.
Our hotel was in the historic part of Prague between Kinsky Garden and the Vltava River. To the north of us was the breathtaking St Nicholas’ Church and north of that the majestic Prague Castle. The famous Charles Bridge was a twelve-minute walk from our hotel. I didn’t know if we would have time to visit the fourteenth-century structure or any of the other historical and architectural marvels.
I looked around our room and considered the elegant décor. When I’d asked Francine how she’d met the owner’s son, she’d changed the topic to talk about the many benefits of all of us living on the luxurious eleventh floor. The hotel had designed this floor with team conferences in mind. There were seven rooms, all leading to a central living area and small kitchen.
Francine had claimed the largest room for her and Manny. Her reasoning was that she deserved it after getting us such a great discount. It was only five percent. I didn’t care. The room Colin and I stayed in was more than spacious enough. It was the cleanliness that had me walking back into the bathroom.
I leaned over to study the chrome towel rails, looking for fingerprints or any other hint that this space had not been meticulously cleaned.
“Anything?” Colin walked into the bathroom and lifted a towel. “Hmm. Tielle towels. I’m impressed. I checked the sheets and agree with Francine’s boasting that they have at least a thousand thread count.”
“Oh, cut it out, you two.” Francine walked into our room and stopped outside the bathroom. “This place is fabulous. Dawid told me his dad sent in the team with steam cleaners and God knows what else to make sure there’s not a speck of dust anywhere.”
I straightened and frowned. “That would be impossible. Only in a vacuum would one be able to...” I sighed. “It’s clean.”
Francine’s smile crinkled the corners of her eyes. “As my conscience.”
“Okay, now you went too far.” Colin chuckled and waved his hands at her. “Shoo. Let’s go to the living room.”
“That’s why I’m here.” She turned and walked through our room. “Manny the Moaner wants us together before Daniel brings his buddy here.”
“Why is Manny moaning now?” Colin asked as he held out his hand towards me. I looked around the bathroom one more time, but knew I wouldn’t find anything untoward. I took his hand and followed him out the room.
Vinnie was rummaging through the cupboards in the small kitchen. He looked over his shoulder and snorted. “Manny the Moaner. Good one, Franny.”
“He wants to sleep next to the window.” She lifted one shoulder. “I want that side.”
“Why? Don’t you always sleep on the right-hand side of the bed?”
“She does.” Manny was sitting on one of the three dark blue sofas, his top lip curled. “But now all of a sudden, the side closest to the window has better internet reception. As if I would believe such nonsense.”
“It’s not nonsense. You saw that I had more bars on my phone when I was standing by the window.” Francine didn’t even attempt to conceal her deception. I’d seen this far too many times. She was teasing Manny. More than usual.
After years of watching their interaction, I’d learned that Francine did this when something had upset Manny. For a moment, I considered asking whether it was related to this case, but decided against it. If it were pertinent, Manny would tell us. Most likely, Manny had been annoyed by slow service at the airport. Another reason I preferred travelling by car.
Francine sat next to Manny as Colin and I settled on one of the other sofas. Vinnie closed the fridge door, joined us and sided with Francine, escalating the argument. Their bickering always seemed to ground them, to be a form of focus. Academically, I understood the psychology behind that. Personally? This strategy made no sense.
I was growing bored with their quibbling and was about to reprimand them when the door to the suite opened.
Daniel Cassel walked in, followed by a dark-haired man. This had to be Daniel’s friend here in Prague. Manny had informed us last night after his call to Daniel that he would be joining us to liaise with his counterparts here in Prague, especially his friend, who held an important position in law enforcement.
Colin’s muscle tension increased and Manny slumped deeper in the sofa, his scowl deepening as they both stared at the stranger.
“Guys, this is Ivan Kemr.” Daniel stood to the side and waved his guest forward. “Ivan, this is Colonel Manfred Millard, Francine, Vinnie, Doctor Genevieve Lenard and Colin.”
Colin got up and shook the newcomer’s hand. “Pleased to meet you. How do you fit into this investigation?”
“Oh, sorry.” Daniel huffed a laugh. “Ivan used to lead an URNA team here. Like our GIPN teams.”
“Until this happened.” Ivan lifted his left hand and nodded towards it. Scar tissue covered most of the back of his hand. His fingers were slightly crooked and looked stiff. I wondered if the damage to his vocal cords that made his voice sound like a harsh whisper was related to this injury. Such damage occurred when someone screamed for an extended period. His smile was genuine when he lowered his hand. “Now I’m a detective and the art theft case is mine.”
Even though he was of average height, his posture made him appear taller. In this sense he was similar to Daniel and his team. The training these men and women received kept their bodies in peak condition, enabling them to respond to situations that would tax the average person’s physical condition. It was clear Ivan had maintained his fitness level despite it no longer being essential for his job performance.
“Ivan is being modest,” Daniel said. “He’s one of the top detectives and runs a specialised unit.”
“Specialising in what?” Manny’s scrutiny could easily be construed as hostile. He was evaluating Ivan.
“Well, we fall under the NCOZ—the National Centre against Organised Crime.” Ivan rubbed the scar on his hand. “Our unit does a bit of everything though. We generally take on cases that are out of the norm.”
“What does that mean?” Manny’s eyes narrowed.
Ivan looked at Manny for a long moment, then nodded as if he’d come to a conclusion. “We’re kind of doing what you guys are doing.”
“Ivan and I have been friends for twelve years.” Daniel pointed at the third sofa and waited until Ivan sat before he joined him. “We met when we worked a joint operation many moons ago.”
“Both of us were still seconds in command.” Ivan’s English was accented, but he exhibited no discomfort communicating. He nodded at Daniel. “Now you have your own team.”
“And you have two.” Daniel punched him lightly on the shoulder and smiled at us. “Ivan’s second team is three teenage boys and an amazing wife.”
“Yeah, three boys who are eating me into bankruptcy, bu
t you are right about the amazing wife. I have no idea why she puts up with me.”
“She knows how to manage her men.” Daniel grinned. “Ivan’s oldest son is passionate about rap music.”
“And he wants everyone to listen to it with him.” Ivan shook his head. “So my wife decided the only way to allow him to have his own taste in music and not cause war in our house is to soundproof his room. Guess what I did last summer?”
“He did an amazing job. He soundproofed three rooms for the boys.” Daniel stretched his legs out in front of him, crossing his ankles. A position revealing a feeling of safety. He trusted Ivan. “The two youngest offered to share a room so I can have one of theirs. I hear myself breathe when I sleep.”
“Breathe or snore?” Francine laughed when Daniel’s smile dropped and he mock-glared at her.
Ivan wasn’t listening to Daniel and Francine as they joked about sleep disturbances. He studied me for three seconds, then turned to Manny. “I know about some of the work you’ve done. Your investigations are always quiet, but you’ve done a lot of good. How much do you know about this case?”
Manny looked at me even before Ivan finished talking. “Doc?”
I was familiar with his expression and his question. “Ask Daniel.”
“I’m asking you.”
“I’ve seen no deception. Daniel clearly trusts him. Enough to sleep in his house.”
“Genevieve is right. You can trust Ivan.” Daniel sat up and leaned forward. “I do.”
“Hmph.” Manny gave a curt nod and looked at Ivan. “What did Daniel tell you?”
Ivan’s gaze didn’t falter as he looked at Manny. “He only told me that you’ve taken an interest in a case in my jurisdiction that involves Tomas Broz.”
I leaned forward and stared at Ivan.
A rueful smile lifted the corners of his mouth. “Okay, full disclosure. I asked for you guys to come and help us. This is an important case and Tomas Broz is proving to be quite uncooperative. I thought we could do with your expertise.”
“You have such authority?” Manny asked.
Ivan lifted one shoulder in a half shrug. “I’ll ask for forgiveness later.”
“Why would you ask us here if you have the thief and the painting?”
Ivan rubbed the scar on his hand. “There’s something off about the case. I want to make sure we’re not missing anything.”
I didn’t observe outright deception, yet Ivan’s micro-expressions made me pay even closer attention. He was withholding information from us, but his hesitation made me wary. People like Ivan—in law enforcement—were naturally reluctant to trust. I wanted to confront him about whatever he was not sharing with us, but decided against it. I first wanted to see how much he was going to share without interference or encouragement. Or threats, if Manny were to become vexed.
Manny stared at Ivan, then nodded. “Daniel, tell Ivan about the email.”
I was pleased with Daniel’s concise briefing. He added details to create context, but didn’t waste time with anything that was not germane. This briefing also afforded me the opportunity to further study Ivan and establish a baseline for his nonverbal cues.
Ivan leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “Can you tell me more about the email? Have you been able to trace its origins?”
“Yes, Franny.” Vinnie raised both eyebrows as he looked at Francine. “Do we know that woman’s favourite ice cream yet?”
Francine flicked her long brown hair over her shoulder and sighed. “No. I haven’t been able to pinpoint her location.”
“Bloody hell.” Manny turned and scowled at her. “What have you been doing on your computers the whole night then?”
“Tracing the email and narrowing searches.” A small smile lifted the corners of her mouth. “I’m impressed with the security this chick has. I mean, it’s much more sophisticated than most large companies’.”
“PIs would have strong internet security,” Colin said.
“Absolutely.” Francine sighed again. “Look, I chased that email the whole night. I lost count how many countries it bounced through, but eventually I got to Germany.”
“City?” Manny asked.
She shook her head. “Only Germany. Sorry. But that helped me narrow my search for PIs in Germany. There is no law that regulates internal or private investigations. As far as I could find, there are a lot of investigators without any reference or registration of any kind—not even as a business.”
“A dead end.” Ivan nodded. “It looks like PIs in Germany are the same as here. Most of them try to stay completely off the radar.”
“Why?” Daniel asked.
“To protect their clientele, right?” Colin smiled when Ivan nodded. Then his smile dimmed when Ivan’s eyes narrowed and he studied Colin closer.
“Dude.” Vinnie slapped his hands on his knees and smiled when he pulled Ivan’s attention away from Colin. “Maybe you have some ideas how we can find PIs who don’t want to be found.”
“Here, sure. But I have no jurisdiction in Germany.” He looked at Francine. “Do you?”
“I have what I need.” Her confident yet ambiguous answer convinced Ivan. Not me. I knew her deception cues.
Manny grunted. “Just keep looking.”
“And don’t dismiss other possibilities.” Often people became so focused on their ideas that they stopped looking for alternative answers. “She might not be a private investigator at all.”
“Preach, sista.” Francine winked at me, then pointed at her tablet. “I have a few more ideas I’m running here.”
Ivan leaned forward to look at Francine’s tablet. “When you have time, I would like to hear how you decide what kind of searches to run.”
“It might be best if you don’t.” Manny lowered his chin and stared at Francine. “Keep it clean.”
“Sir, yes, sir!”
It was interesting to watch Ivan’s curiosity grow. What interested me even more was the contradictory emotions that flashed over his face.
“Why are you confused and disappointed?” I pushed back into the sofa when everyone’s heads turned to me, their expressions varying from shocked to angry.
“What is she talking about?” Manny shook his index finger towards me, but his glare was solely for Ivan.
It didn’t intimidate him. Instead, he smiled as he looked at me. “Your reputation does you no justice. Your astute observations are both impressive and quite... well, they’re quite scary.”
“Answer her!” Manny’s voice boomed through the room.
Ivan’s eyes moved to the ceiling for a moment before he turned his attention to Manny. “Daniel contacted me last night, so obviously you guys didn’t know about this, but when you arrived this morning, I was sure you would—”
“Bloody hell!” Manny glared at Daniel. “Make him speak.”
Ivan’s smile was apologetic. “I’m sorry for not getting to the point immediately. We found a homicide victim.”
Francine jolted upright and started swiping and tapping her tablet screen.
“Go on.” Daniel twisted on the sofa to face Ivan.
Ivan looked at Manny. “A jogger found a body in Kosire-Motol Park this morning.”
“Why would you think we would be interested in your homicide?” Manny asked.
Ivan rubbed the scar on his hand and rolled his shoulders, not succeeding in loosening the tightness still visible. “It’s the second body we’ve found in the last three days.”
An unwelcome tightness formed around my chest, constricting until it felt like I couldn’t breathe. “Are their deaths connected?”
“Obviously, the forensic team as well as the medical examiner still have to do their jobs, but I’m one hundred percent sure they’re connected.”
“There’s more.” I could see it clearly on his face.
Ivan inhaled deeply and nodded. “There were a few specific things about the placement of their bodies that caught my attention. Especially when we found the secon
d victim this morning. So I entered it into our database.”
“And found nothing.” It was becoming increasingly easy to read his facial expressions.
He nodded again. “So I put it into Interpol’s database. I wish I’d checked after we found the first victim. But I only went to Interpol’s database this morning. We might have been able to prevent there being a second victim.”
This was fascinating. Why would Ivan tell the truth about checking Interpol’s database, but lie about the day he did it? I filed it away for future reference.
“Oh, my God!” Francine bounced on the sofa, her eyes wide as her fingers flew over her tablet screen.
“For the love of all that is holy.” Manny rubbed his hands hard over his face. “What now?”
“There’s enough evidence to make me think that the victims have something to do with the murders you had in Strasbourg last year. And your suspect Shahab Hatami.” Ivan jerked back and blinked a few times at the expletives that exploded from Manny and Vinnie.
“That motherfucker is here?” Vinnie jumped up from the sofa and walked to the kitchenette and back. The scar running down the left of his face stood out against the red anger in his cheeks.
“What evidence?” I shuddered at the memory of the horrors of those murders. The three young people who had been murdered by Shahab Hatami had been viciously tortured before their bodies had been disposed of in public parks. His other victim had been left in her home where she’d died.
A sense of failure pushed at me. I had wanted to stop Shahab before any more people died.
“Broken fingers.” Ivan closed his eyes for a moment, then exhaled heavily. “Taken to a second location. Signs of torture over a period of days. Also, this morning’s victim was found just off a path in a popular hiking spot. Like in Strasbourg, the dumping site is a public place that will ensure discovery, but not too crowded that he would be caught red-handed.”
“Bloody hell.” Manny sank back in the sofa. “That sounds like Shahab’s work.”