The Roubaud Connection

by Estelle Ryan

  Iran. Not only did the bottles of wine originate from this country with such complicated political relationships with the West, now we knew that Adèle had been sending large amounts of cash there. I didn’t discount Hassan’s suspicion that she had bought the stolen art from the most recent heist, but we didn’t have concrete evidence that tied her to that crime.

  We did, however, have her photos with numerous other artefacts found in the self-storage locker. This new information was yet another new connection that tied Adèle’s and Jace’s murders to Iran.

  How it was linked, I didn’t know. Not yet.

  “Hassan, you’re the man.” Vinnie got up and I realised that the men had concluded their conversation. I considered whether there was anything else I wanted to ask Hassan, but there was nothing. I followed them out of the modern office into the elegant showroom.

  Hassan stopped next to the rug I’d admired and looked at me. “Where can I deliver this?”

  “I haven’t bought it.” How was it possible that I’d miscommunicated that?

  “I know.” He smiled. “But I decided that I like you and since you’re Vinnie’s friend, I want to give this to you.”

  I didn’t know how to respond. I’d looked at the carpet because its design was soothing to my mind. I had not once considered buying it.

  “Breathe, love.” Colin took my hand in his and squeezed. He looked at Hassan. “We deeply appreciate your generosity, Hassan, but we can’t possibly take such a beautiful work of art without giving you something for it. Clearly you have an important business here and giving away your profit would be too much to accept.”

  Hassan stared at Colin. It was clear that he viewed Colin’s intervention as a polite rejection.

  “I need time.” I was not like Francine who constantly bought things on impulse. “This will bring a significant change in my space and I need to consider it before I buy this.”

  “And we will buy this,” Colin added.

  “At a discount.” Hassan’s facial muscles relaxed and he smiled. “A huge discount. You will only pay seventy-seven euros for it.”

  I frowned. “That’s a peculiar amount.”

  “It was my grandmother’s favourite number and you remind me a lot of her.” He put his palm on the Persian Tabriz rug. “She had one very similar to this in her bedroom. Much smaller, but she loved it. She said the shapes made her smile.”

  I realised that this rug was more symbolic to Hassan than just another carpet in his store. We said our goodbyes and left. I had many questions about this case, but it took ten minutes into our trip to the team room before I stopped obsessing about whether I wanted to purchase the rug and where I would put it.

  Chapter TEN

  “WHAT’S UP WITH NIX, Jen-girl?” Vinnie pushed between the two front seats of Colin’s SUV and looked at me.

  I pushed myself against the door and frowned. “What do you mean?”

  “I mean she didn’t laugh at my joke last night. That’s not normal.”

  “Could it be that your joke wasn’t funny?” Colin turned into the main road that would take us back to the team room.

  “Dude!” Vinnie slapped Colin’s upper arm. “My jokes are always funny. So this is the one I told Nikki.” He took a dramatic pause. “Archaeologist—someone whose career lies in ruins.” He chuckled. “Huh? Huh? Funny, right?”

  Colin and Daniel laughed. I didn’t.

  Vinnie’s pleasure in Colin’s reaction fell away when he looked at me. “Why aren’t you laughing?”

  “I don’t find it funny.” It was obvious.

  “It’s funny, Vin.” Colin glanced at Vinnie. “Why do you think something is wrong with Nikki?”

  “Can’t put my finger on it. She just seemed distracted.”

  “She’s starting a new job.” I’d had a few conversations with Nikki about her nervousness about her fulltime employment. “She’s concerned that she won’t meet her boss’ expectations.”

  “Well, that’s just dumb.” Vinnie huffed and shook his head. “She’s a genius at restoring those old paintings.”

  “She’s not a genius.” I enjoyed Nikki’s above-average intelligence, but she definitely didn’t qualify as a genius.

  Vinnie snorted. “I miss Rox. She would know what’s up with Nikki.”

  “Is she enjoying her conference?” Colin asked.

  “Yes, but she said she misses us. Me the most.”

  “Of course.”

  Vinnie turned back to me and I pushed harder against the door. “Do you think there’s something between Pink and Nix?”

  “What something?”

  “Something romantic-like.” Vinnie frowned and rubbed the long scar that ran down the left side of his face. “Pink has been helping her a lot with Eric and they’re always chatting.”

  I didn’t know how to answer this. The only way I felt comfortable in my friendships was by analysing my friends’ nonverbal cues. I knew most people didn’t like the idea of being exposed and vulnerable to analysis, so I almost never shared my insights. It would be similar to betraying their trust. I didn’t know how to be diplomatic, how to be deceptive, so I searched for an appropriate answer. “Nikki trusts Pink. They trust each other.”

  “Yeah, but do they like each other?” He drew out the word ‘like’, wiggling his eyebrows.

  I pointed at his eyebrows. “What does that mean?”

  He laughed. “Are they in love?”

  “Maybe you should ask Jenny what the body language of love is.” Colin winked at me.

  “Huh.” Vinnie nodded slowly. “So? How would you know people are in love?”

  I felt much more comfortable answering this. “Nonverbal cues of romantic interest usually include lowered voices, giggling, gazing at each other with the eyelids lowered and smiles that seem to hide some secret.”

  “That sounds like flirting to me.”

  “It’s more than superficial flirting.” I thought of Francine and how she flirted with the male waiters in every restaurant we visited. Her flirting was a sexy form of friendliness, but without any nonverbal cues inviting further action. “Romantic flirting has the definite message of expecting more from the interaction.”

  “Roxy flirts with me.” Vinnie’s smile was sweet.

  “Yes.” I looked at Colin. “I don’t flirt.”

  “No, you don’t.” He winked at me and returned his attention to the traffic in front of us. “And I’m really glad you don’t.”

  “Oh.” The sound of a superhero cartoon jingle from my handbag interrupted me before I could ask him why he felt that way. Daniel’s phone pinged and he took it from his pocket as I took my phone from its usual place in my bag and glared at Colin. “Stop changing my ringtones.” I swiped to answer the call. “You’re on speaker.”

  “Hi, Genevieve.” The smile in Pink’s voice made me realise my social blunder.

  “Hi, Pink.” I hated the politeness always needed with neurotypicals, but understood and respected the need for it. “I’m with Colin, Daniel and Vinnie and you’re on speaker.”

  “Where are you guys?”

  “In the car, about five minutes from the team room.” Colin manoeuvred around a car looking for parking. “Why?”

  “Turn around.” The tension in his voice brought tightness to my chest. “Meet me at Robertsau forest.”

  “Did you find more victims?” I irrationally hoped my assumption wasn’t correct.

  “Yes.” He paused when Vinnie swore colourfully. “Two bodies were found this morning by tourists who came for an early walk. I’ve asked the first responders and crime scene techs not to touch anything until you get here.”

  “On our way.” Colin glanced in the rear view mirror, then his side mirror before making an illegal U-turn.

  I ended the call, grabbed the sides of my seat and tried to control my breathing. Colin turned on his hazard lights and rushed through the late-morning traffic at a most alarming speed. Experience had taught me that Colin was a competent drive
r and his advanced driving skills had not once caused an accident. It didn’t make me enjoy the speedy journey to Robertsau forest.

  After the fifth time I gasped and strengthened my hold on the passenger seat, I decided it would be more prudent to look out of the window than to watch Colin’s driving. I thought about Adèle and her beautiful house as we passed the turn-off to her neighbourhood. The forest wasn’t too far from her house and I wondered if she’d spent any time there. Or had her focus been solely on her work and providing for Claire?

  Pink had sent the exact GPS coordinates of the crime scene. It was close to the Rhine River. The nature reserve stretched across the border to Germany, the larger area on the French side of the river. Located to the north of Strasbourg, it was as popular as the Neuhof forest in the south for locals and tourists to spend their leisure time. In some places it looked like a virgin forest because of the creepers and there were many paths to choose from when hiking, cycling or even horse riding.

  By the time Colin parked his SUV next to the familiar GIPN truck, my fingers were stiff from clutching the sides of my seat. I inhaled slowly and deeply while wiggling my fingers and trying to relax my shoulder muscles. The start of my day might have been routine, but getting out of the SUV in the middle of the Robertsau forest instead of sitting in front of my monitors most definitely was not.

  I made a point of visiting this nature reserve at least once every summer. It was a wonderful place for a long walk in nature. Weekends saw a lot of families and cyclists, which made the paths crowded and took all enjoyment from time in nature. I preferred to spend a weekday walking a pre-planned route, stopping only to take photos when I noticed something uncommonly symmetrical in the flora.

  In the colder seasons, the forest lost its attraction for most people. A few brave hikers would visit on weekend days, but weekdays left the reserve empty. With the exception of today.

  Apart from Colin’s SUV and the GIPN truck, two police patrol cars, one Ford and a Seat were parked in a haphazard manner. People were milling around and three officers were standing next to one of the patrol cars, chatting.

  Pink walked to us, his expression serious. “You made good time.”

  Colin nodded and looked past the vehicles into the forest. “What have we got?”

  “A man and a woman in their late twenties.” The corners of Pink’s mouth turned down. “They were viciously tortured. Then the bastard dumped them.”

  “The old man is here.” Vinnie nodded towards Manny’s old sedan stopping next to Colin’s SUV.

  As if in silent agreement, no one spoke while we waited for Manny to join us. He took longer than necessary to turn off the car and get out. I frowned. When he eventually got out, he kept his back turned on us. I narrowed my eyes—the tightness in his shoulders worried me. But when he turned I gasped and took Colin’s hand.

  It was there for only a second, but the raw grief that had been etched on his face had been unlike anything I’d ever observed in his nonverbal cues. The look he gave me as he walked towards us was one I was much more familiar with. It was a warning. The almost imperceptible shake of his head made me blink. He didn’t want me to ask what was causing him such emotional pain.

  “Dan, everyone.” Manny nodded. “Where are they?”

  Pink pointed to our left. “Deeper into the forest. See the tourists over there?” He pointed at a man dressed in jeans and a thick blue winter jacket leaning against a patrol van while listening to three young women talking to a police officer. The women were dressed in winter hiking outfits that would protect them from temperatures much lower than this. Yet two of them were rubbing their arms as if they were cold.

  “They the ones who found the bodies?” Colin asked.

  “Yes.” Pink turned back to us. “The man found the bodies first. He was looking for signs of life when the ladies saw them as well and hurried over. Good thing too. The man had left his smartphone in his car, wanting a pure forest bath. All three of the women had their phones. They called it in.”

  I tried. I really did. But my mind wouldn’t allow me to focus on the more relevant information. “What is a forest bath?”

  “It’s actually called forest bathing.” Vinnie leaned back when we all turned to him in surprise. “What? Roxy told me all about this. It’s a Japanese thing. The idea is to consciously walk in the forest and take in the atmosphere and let it heal you.”

  “Ridiculous.” Manny sliced his hand through the air. “I don’t have time for such nonsense. Take us to the scene.”

  “Sure.” Daniel’s eyebrows rose at Manny’s harsh tone, but he turned and followed Pink to the copse of trees on our left.

  “It’s a bit off the hiking paths, but not so far out that you’ll need snow shoes,” Pink said over his shoulder.

  “Is it too much to hope for footprints in the snow?” Colin asked.

  Pink nodded. “Between the tourists and the first responders, the snow is pretty trampled. There’s no way we’ll get any useful impressions now. The killer’s prints have been stomped over a million times already.”

  “Impossible.” I simply couldn’t stop myself. “It would take the sixteen people I counted here a minimum of nine hours each to take a million steps.”

  “Of course.” Pink laughed. “I must have been channelling Francine or Nikki with that exaggeration.”

  “Definitely Franny.” Vinnie tilted his head as he stared at Manny’s stiff gait. “What crawled up your butt, old man? You and Franny had a little tiff?”

  Colin smiled at Vinnie’s unsuccessful attempt at a British accent.

  “Did the bodies have any ID on them?” Manny ignored Vinnie and followed Daniel deeper into the trees.

  Apart from the gross exaggeration, Pink had been correct about the trampled snow. We were off the designated path, but the snow between the trees here was flattened, shoeprints visible everywhere. About twenty metres in front of us, two police officers stood guard. Both rested their gloved hands on their belts, their postures relaxed, but alert.

  It was easy to spot the bodies behind them. Like Jace, they weren’t dressed in outdoor wear. Both of them were wearing jeans. The man had on a long-sleeved red t-shirt and the woman was wearing a green and orange sweater. Their feet were bare.

  “No ID.” Pink’s answer was soft, his eyes on the two bodies. “No bags, phones, nothing in their pockets.”

  Colin squeezed my hand. “You’re ready for this?”

  I didn’t take my eyes off the two young people as we walked closer. “No. I’m never ready to see murder victims.”

  “But you’ll be okay.” Vinnie poked me in the shoulder. “You always are, Jen-girl.”

  “Stop dilly-dallying and get your arses over here.” Manny was leaning over the young man. He straightened and looked at me. “It’s vicious, Doc.”

  I nodded stiffly and focused my mind on Mozart’s Overture from The Marriage of Figaro—one of my favourite works. Letting go of Colin’s hand, I walked closer and stumbled to a stop when I saw the young man’s hand lying on the snow. Every finger on his hand had been broken. In more than one place. His hand was swollen and deeply discoloured, which told me he’d been alive for some time after this had been done to him.

  I inhaled deeply and took another step closer. In contrast to Jace’s crime scene, there wasn’t a lot of blood in the snow. I was irrationally grateful for that. The contrast of the small amount of blood on the snow surrounding the bodies was already jarring.

  I looked at the man’s face and gasped. “He’s unrecognisable.”

  “It looks like the bastard broke every bone in his face.” Colin’s tone was tight with tension.

  “Fuck!” Vinnie went down on his haunches next to the woman. “That motherfucker sliced her face up.” He pointed at the top of her sweater. “And stabbed her in the chest.”

  “The paramedics that got here said she received dozens of shallow stab wounds in her breasts.” Pink swallowed. “The killer never went deep enough to kill her.”<
br />
  “Just to torture her.” Manny’s facial muscles contracted with anger. “We need to find this bloody killer and put a stop to this.”

  “We need more data.” A lot more. I couldn’t see us catching this ruthless killer with the frustrating lack of a connection between all the clues we had at the moment. “Having their identities would be a good start.”

  Manny pointed at Colin. “Take photos and let Francine show Caelan. He might be able to identify them.”

  “I don’t think that’s a good idea, Millard.” Colin ignored Manny’s lowered brow. “There’s no way these people’s best friends or parents would be able to recognise them at the moment. Showing photos of brutally tortured dead people to Caelan is not going to help us and will not help him.”

  “I don’t want to help that little shit. I want him to man up, identify these people so we can stop this from happening to anyone else.”

  “Dude.” Vinnie stood up and frowned at Manny. “Chill.”

  Manny swung around and glared at Vinnie. “Don’t you bloody call me ‘dude’. Instead of wasting time standing around here, why don’t you hit up your criminal buddies and find out if any of your friends have a friend who does this kind of thing for pleasure.”

  “Whoa.” Vinnie leaned back, stared at Manny for a second, then looked at me. “I guess I have some phone calls to make.”

  Colin watched Vinnie walk back to the vehicles, then turned to Manny. “That was not necessary.”

  “Back off, Frey.” Manny pushed his hands in his coat pockets. “Doc? Do you at least have something useful?”

  I took my time to study Manny. His expression revealed that he regretted his outburst and dreaded my response. It was truly difficult for me not to confront him with whatever was causing his emotional pain, but I recalled all the conversations Phillip and Colin had had with me about appropriate timing. I shook my head. “The bodies alone don’t give me any new information. We need to know who they are and how they fit into the victimology of Jace and Adèle.”

  “If it’s not going to piss you off too much, Frey, I’ll ask Caelan about the other players in his geocaching gifted club.”