“And that’s precisely what I don’t like. I have no idea of your background or experience. And no one will tell me. They want me to make use of you on my team, but that requires me to understand and trust you. We totally rely on each other here, often in life or death situations. How can I risk the lives of my people just because the Chief Constable is suddenly infatuated with you?”
Diana took a deep breath. She was trying hard not to take this all personally. Logically, Donaldson had a point. He didn’t know her from Eve, so why should he trust her? In his position, she would have been just as reticent and wouldn’t have relied on one man’s word, no matter how much she respected him.
She changed gears. She likened it to flipping a switch in her head. One moment she could look at someone like a regular person, and the next she could observe and analyze the minutest of details, making deductions that were uncanny and eerily accurate.
“Superintendent, you’ve been Head of Investigative Services for ten years. Many might believe it was high time you made Deputy Chief Constable, especially with your track record. It would be natural to think so. People may assume that the reason you’re not is because you’ve upset the powers that be. However, what most don’t realize is that you haven’t risen that far, not because you’ve been passed over for promotion, but because you’ve refused it every time. You’d feel too far removed from the action, lose touch with your people, nothing more than a paper pusher.”
Donaldson probably thought he was being stoic and playing an excellent poker face, but his expression gave everything away. At least to her. “Right now, you’re thinking that I could have researched what I just said online. After all, you can find everything online. Almost. And while it’s true that I did research you, there is no way I could possibly have found out that your wife recently left you,” Diana paused momentarily for effect.
“She’s given up trying, hasn’t she? Your kids are grown—you have two of them, by the way, and yes, I did find that out online—and she’d hoped that once they moved out, you’d be around more. But you are the job. You love the thrill of the chase. You find it easier to deal with criminals and people like you, those who love the adrenaline rush, than you do your own family. I bet you turned down a promotion recently too, and that was the straw that broke the camel’s back.”
She paused once again, for just a heartbeat. “Oh, and in your spare time you enjoy ocean fishing, gardening, and spending time at the animal shelter with the dogs,” she finished crisply.
Diana took a deep breath and was about to launch into another monologue when he put his hands up. “Alright, I get it.” He was trying to hide his shock but wasn’t doing a good job of it. “How did you know all that about me?” he asked.
Diana sighed. “I’m very good at observing details and analyzing them. For example, I know your wife left you recently because your shirt is slightly crumpled. You are a stickler for rules, so the only reason you’d show up to work looking less than your best is because you haven’t yet figured out how to handle all those mundane tasks your wife did for you.
“I can tell you like ocean fishing because of the calluses on your hands, as well as the tiny puncture marks on your palms, which are probably from handling bait. The photo of you with that impressive salmon on the shelf over there is a dead giveaway, too. I knew about the gardening because of the slight smell of fertilizer in here—you most likely picked some up on your shoe while cutting the flowers in that basket on your desk—which is rather incongruous, by the way. And you have a few strands of what appears to be animal hair on your suit. Considering the different colors, lengths, and textures, it either means you have a lot of dogs, which is unlikely given your work schedule, or you go down to the shelter to spend time with the animals there.”
“That’s good. But how did you know I’d turned down the promotions and why I did it? No one has ever figured that out before, not even my wife.”
“The promotions were easy to deduce. First of all, you have more commendations than anyone can shake a stick at. Secondly, your track record is extremely impressive. These two facts would be more than enough to get you promoted. Now, some might argue that you have been passed over because your tell-it-like-it-is attitude rubbed certain people the wrong way and because you’ll go to any length to protect your officers, even if that means a faceoff with a higher authority. However, were that the case, you wouldn’t have been promoted to superintendent in the first place, and you certainly wouldn’t still be in the same job. Ergo, it stands to reason that you were offered a series of promotions but turned them down.”
“Hmm, not bad, Ms. Hunter. Not bad.”
“Not bad?” Diana asked, letting a little cockiness bleed into her tone. She was good at what she did, and she knew it. He would discover it soon enough.
“You haven’t told me how you worked out why I didn’t accept the offers.”
“That’s simple. You like to be close to the action, which is why your people respect you like they do. Someone with your history and motivation would never accept a role that was far away from the sharp end. You like to be involved, a fact that became clear when you called me directly, and moving to the top of the building wouldn’t afford you that opportunity. Your micro expressions are also a dead giveaway. You wince slightly every time I mention the role of DCC, and you glance at the stack of paperwork on your desk that has been sitting there for so long that it’s gathered a fine layer of dust. You wouldn’t want to become Deputy Chief Constable because you already think you waste too much time on paperwork and other bureaucratic tasks.”
Donaldson eyed her and then nodded with a satisfied look on his face. The sudden change of demeanor took Diana momentarily by surprise. “And you’ve just played me,” she said with a grimace, “and I fell for it. Nicely done, Superintendent.”
“What do you mean?” he asked curiously.
“You know more about me than you let on. You do know how I can help you and what my skills are, but for some reason, you played on my insecurities to get me to demonstrate precisely what I can do.” Her gaze bore into his, and his wide-eyed, innocent expression was a dead giveaway. “I won’t be making that mistake again.”
“Why would you think I’d do something like that?”
“Probably because you aren’t at liberty to share any details about me with your team, and the easiest and fastest way to convince whoever will be working with me of what I can do is by showing them.” She looked around Donaldson’s office quickly. “I’m assuming you’ve rigged a camera and a mic in here somewhere. Probably in those flowers,” she said nodding at the basket of colorful blooms that sat on his desk, “I thought they didn’t fit.”
Donaldson grinned. “You are quite impressive. You got me in less than ten minutes. No one has ever done that before.” He paused. “You two can come in now.”
She didn’t think a second had passed before the door opened and two men almost fell over themselves to get inside Donaldson’s office. Both were tall and well-built. What was it with VPD? Was being highly attractive a prerequisite to getting the job? Even Donaldson was a good-looking man, despite being a good twenty years older than the two who had just poured through the door. And then there had been her father. He had been a fine man, too.
“Satisfied?” Donaldson asked the two men.
“Very,” said the dark-haired one.
“If she can shoot too, I’m going to marry her,” his red-headed partner declared with a grin.
“I’m certain that Ms. Hunter can handle a weapon reasonably well,” Donaldson said with a wink at her. Diana raised an eyebrow. The superintendent’s presence had completely changed. Clearly, the Chief Constable had been a lot more forthcoming than he should have been.
“Please, call me Diana,” she said. “And the Superintendent is correct. I can handle a weapon.”
“I hear wedding bells in our future, Diana.”
She rolled her eyes.
“You sure about that, Nik? You do realize the lady is probab
ly a crack shot and could and probably would shoot you with searing accuracy when you inevitably messed up, right?” The dark-haired detective turned to her and smiled. “Excuse my oaf of a partner who apparently has no manners. I’m Detective Scott Rutledge, and this is my partner, Detective Nik Ericson.”
She smiled. “Pleased to meet you.”
Rutledge was about to shake her hand when Ericson shouldered his way in front of his partner and grabbed her hand in a strong grip. “The pleasure is all mine,” he purred.
“You’ll have to excuse my idiot partner. His IQ drops into single digits when faced with a beautiful and highly intelligent woman,” Rutledge added.
Diana shook her head. They were as bad as each other. Ericson was more the playboy type, while Rutledge had a smooth charm that probably knocked most women off their feet. She wouldn’t bite. She had to work with these guys, which meant laying down the law. And she also knew exactly what they were doing. They were trying to knock her off balance. It was a routine that probably worked well for them, especially when trying to get information. And she had a strong suspicion it was also a defense mechanism. So, she would play the game, for now anyway.
Before she could formulate an appropriate response, Donaldson intervened. “If you two have quite finished, I’d like to get some work done. Not that we’re in any sort of hurry,” he ended sarcastically.
The two men instantly transformed. Gone was the flippant attitude. It was replaced with a laser-like focus, like a cat closing in on its prey. Every muscle stilled, their gazes sharpened, and an air of danger surrounded the two men. The charming, laidback attitude had been an act, too.
“We’ve set everything up in Conference Room 3.”
“Lead the way,” Donaldson said as he got to his feet.”
CHAPTER 2
THEY HAD MOVED to a conference room with a large, white, oval table, cream-colored chairs, and a touch screen mounted on one wall. There were a few files strewn on the table and a map of Vancouver on the screen with three red dots. Diana was finally going to find out why Donaldson had called her in.
“Ericson and Rutledge are part of the Robbery, Assault, and Arson Unit. They specialize in high-profile theft cases,” Donaldson began. “Recently, we’ve had two major robberies that are unlike anything we’ve ever seen before. We have no leads, and the DCC,” he paused to smirk at her, “and Chief Constable are coming down on us hard to find the perps and put them behind bars.”
“Which is why you called me in.”
“Exactly.” He turned to look at the two detectives, who had been quiet so far.
Rutledge grabbed a file. “This is the first robbery. It happened exactly one month ago at the Four Seasons during the Annual Crystal Ball.”
“What did they take?” Diana asked, as she reached for the file. She had read about the heist in the local paper, but there had been scant details.
“Everything,” Ericson replied.
Diana paused, “What do you mean, everything?”
“Everyone attending the Ball was robbed of all their jewelry, money, and other valuables.” It was Rutledge who answered.
“And that’s not the worst of it,” grumbled Ericson.
“We’ll get to that in a moment,” Donaldson said. “What’s interesting is how they’re pulling it off.”
When Donaldson didn’t continue and the two detectives were just as silent, Diana prodded them. “So, how did they pull it off?”
“That’s the thing. We have absolutely no idea,” Rutledge answered, his palms up and fingers wide in obvious frustration.
“What do you mean?”
“All we know for sure is that everyone at the ball entered the building with their jewelry and valuables, then realized halfway through the party that it was all missing. It’s as if someone waved a wand and everything worth anything disappeared.”
Diana looked up from the thin file she was looking at to stare in surprise at Ericson. “Pickpockets?” she asked.
“That’s what we thought at first, but we figured it couldn’t be. There was no way for them to steal everything from hundreds of people in one place. Not without someone noticing their valuables were missing while it was happening. They’d have to steal everything from everyone all at once. It would have required a huge crew and been obvious,” Rutledge said.
The file Diana was holding was mainly made up of photos of the missing items. There was also a list of attendees and staff. “No interview notes from witnesses?” she asked.
Ericson handed her a tablet. On the screen, there was a list of files, each labeled with a name. She opened one and saw that there were very few notes. She looked up at the detectives. “There isn’t much here.”
“That’s the thing. There were no witnesses. No one saw anything. They all said the same thing. They suddenly discovered all their valuables were missing, yet they had no idea what had happened. One moment, they had everything, the next, it was all gone.”
Diana looked through the other files, skimming through them quickly. Although there were slight variations, everyone had pretty much said the same thing, just as Ericson had explained.
“And that right there is the problem. How can we find these guys when we don’t have a clue how they actually pulled the job off? We’re not even sure where to start. We’ve gone through the regular stuff of interviewing everyone, checking out the staff, and so on. But no one knows anything. No one saw anything. It’s almost as if it didn’t happen. But obviously it did.” Rutledge sounded as frustrated as Donaldson looked, which was very.
But Diana wasn’t listening. This obviously hadn’t been a run-of-the-mill robbery. The pickpocket theory was out. If the gala had been attacked by armed men of a number necessary to control a crowd of that size, they would have as many witnesses as they did victims. So, how did they do it?
“That’s not all.” Diana looked up at Donaldson. “That was the first one. They’ve pulled off another since then. The second one was at the Police Ball two days ago. We’ve kept the extent of it out of the press, but we won’t be able to for much longer.”
“You’re kidding,” she breathed.
Donaldson shook his head. “I’m dead serious. This crew have made the entire VPD look like a bunch of amateurs.”
“And that’s why the Chief Constable is having a fit, I’m assuming,” Diana murmured.
“That, and the fact that Vancouver’s elite are now afraid to leave their homes and are roaring for action. It must be charity ball season because there’s another one being held in three days. We’ve got to find these guys before then. The last thing we need is another large-scale robbery going down.”
“And the M.O. has been the same in both cases?”
The three men nodded.
“What about security footage?”
“The systems were disabled from the moment the gala started. We have nothing.”
Diana kept skimming through the victim statements. Something caught her eye. She cycled back through all the notes and picked out fifteen files, leaving them open in the background. “Do you have the statements from the other event?”
“You got something?” Donaldson asked.
Diana shrugged. “I’m not sure yet. I need to see the other statements.” She passed the tablet to Ericson who pulled up another set of files for her. It took her about two minutes to skim them.
“You read fast,” Rutledge noted.
Diana ignored him. “Who took these victim statements?” she asked, indicating the files open on the tablet. Rutledge took a look.
“It seems they were all taken by Constable Roger Dunway. Why?”
“He made a note in all these files that the victims seemed slightly intoxicated.”
“It was a charity event with lots of alcohol. Comes with the territory,” Donaldson pointed out.
“True, but can I have a word with the constable? If possible,” she added with a smile.
Donaldson looked at Rutledge, who pulled out his phone and diale
d a number. “Shoesmith, can you send Dunway up to Conference Room 3? The Superintendent wants a word.” He paused for a moment. “No, nothing’s wrong. We just have a few questions for him.” He turned to Donaldson and Diana. “He’ll be right up.”
“Thank you,” Diana said.
“So, you want to tell us what you’re thinking?” Ericson asked impatiently.
Diana sighed. “Not yet. I have a suspicion, but I’d like a little more information so I know whether I’m heading in the right direction or not.”
Ericson huffed in obvious frustration. “You know,” Diana said, in an effort to distract them while they waited for the constable, “some of these pieces are quite original. They should be easy to identify. Wouldn’t that make them hard to sell?”
“Yeah, but they also made off with a lot of money and other easily saleable items. They’ll probably sit on the larger ones until the heat dies down,” Ericson retorted.
“Yet, they are the most valuable pieces of the lot. These three diamond necklaces are worth more than everything else put together,” Diana countered.
“Quite possibly,” Ericson replied.
“They’re taking a lot of risk. Why go to such a public place? Why chance it? They could simply rob these people when they’re at home. They’d get more loot with less attention and heat coming down on them.”
“Maybe they’re adrenaline junkies,” Rutledge suggested.
“I don’t think so,” Donaldson said. “If it was the adrenaline rush they were after, they’d be more brazen about it. More open. They wouldn’t go to the trouble of doing it so secretively.”
“The rush could come from the very fact that they’ve managed to outwit VPD—no offense intended—but I agree with the Superintendent. I don’t think this is a case of adrenaline seeking. There’s something else going on, but I’m not sure what. First, let’s figure out how they did it, then we can look at why and catch who while we’re at it.” Diana looked at the three men, in turn.
Constable Dunway walked in. “You wanted to see me, sir?” he asked Donaldson.
Stolen (A Diana Hunter Mystery Book 3) Page 2