“Thanks, Hannah.” She paused. “But I can’t leave it entirely up to you. This is my job, my Marinth. I’ll give you another few days to locate Kirov and get some answers. After that, I’m going to let Jed hire those investigators, and I’m going hunting myself.”
Dear heaven, that was the last thing she wanted to happen. “Don’t do it, Melis.”
“My Marinth,” Melis repeated quietly. “I’ll be waiting for your call.”
Hannah cut the connection. Damn. As frustrated as she was, it was only a fraction of what Melis must have been feeling and no wonder she—
“Hannah?”
She whirled and saw Eugenia behind her. “I’ve just finished talking to Melis and—” She stopped as she saw the expression on Eugenia’s face. “What’s wrong?”
Eugenia glanced at the man who had come to stand next to her. He was a middle-aged man with a pencil-thin mustache, and his suit and overcoat made him indistinguishable from the scores of other business travelers waiting in the busy airport pickup area.
“Tell her,” he said.
Eugenia leaned closer to Hannah. “Trouble. According to this man, a sniper has you in his sights, and he’ll fire if we don’t do exactly what he says.”
Hannah turned to look at the man in astonishment. “That’s crazy. Do you believe him?”
“Look at the sign next to you,” he said quietly. “Pay particular attention to the final ‘o.’ ”
Hannah turned. The sign read PASSENGER LOADING AND UNLOADING ONLY. While she looked, a neat, round hole appeared in the middle of the “o” from “only.”
Hannah spun toward a building facing them, knowing that the bullet must have come from there. If there was any noise from the shot, it had been masked by the sounds of the traffic and nearby jets. No one else had even noticed it.
“George is a very good shot, an expert sniper,” the mustached man said. “It could just as well have been any part of your anatomy. Or that of this other lady.”
A black Mercedes-Benz limousine pulled to a stop in front of them. The man opened the rear door for them. “Please get in. I don’t want to signal George to give you another demonstration.”
Hannah glanced at Eugenia. She hesitated, then nodded. They climbed into the car, and he stepped back and slammed the door. The car sped away from the airport.
“How do you do? Thank you for joining me, ladies.”
The man who had spoken was sitting facing them from a rear-facing seat. He was a fiftyish, obese man who seemed to be all gray-white hair, spectacles, and pouty pink lips.
“Your sniper didn’t leave us much choice,” Hannah said dryly.
He chuckled. “Well, since your only alternative was for you to fall dead onto the sidewalk, I do see your point. So just let me commend you for your excellent decision.” The man’s Irish brogue somehow made even the threatening statement sound less intimidating.
But there couldn’t be anything more threatening than the bullet that had been fired so close to her, Hannah thought.
“Who are you and what do you want?” Eugenia asked crisply.
“Ah, the direct approach. Refreshing. I don’t get a lot of straight talk from the people in my world. Alas, you are not in a position to demand information from me. You will tell me what I need to know, and if you are still alive at the end of our car ride, I will decide what to share with you. Do you understand?”
“Ask your questions,” Hannah said.
“Excellent. What brings you two ladies to Dublin?”
Hannah glanced at Eugenia before responding. “We’re looking for a friend. We heard he was here.”
“Perhaps I can help. Your friend’s name?”
Hannah hesitated. “Nicholas Kirov.” She studied the man’s face for any flash of recognition, but there was none.
“And what is your business with this man?”
“He’s just a friend,” Eugenia interjected suddenly. “We didn’t come all this way for you, if that’s what you’re thinking, Mr. Walsh. You are Anthony Walsh, aren’t you?”
The gray-haired man chuckled. “Very good, Eugenia.”
“Look, Walsh. I spoke to Gorecki in Rome last night,” Eugenia said. “He told me that he sent Kirov your way. I suppose he told you that we would be coming to Dublin.”
“Yes, he told me as a professional courtesy. I would have done the same for him. Men in our profession can’t be too careful. In America, I know they give away guns in boxes of cereal, but here an untraceable firearm is a precious commodity.”
“I thought Gorecki would vouch for me,” Eugenia said. “He and his brother are old friends of mine.”
“Oh, he spoke very highly of you, and he promised that I could trust you. Pardon me for being cynical, but the only reason I’m still alive and in business is that I’ve learned to trust no one. And even if you mean me no harm—something of which I’m still not entirely convinced, by the way—I couldn’t risk the two of you compromising my operation by blundering into the country and asking questions about me and my whereabouts. I assume that would have been your first step in order to track down your friend.”
“Our only interest is in finding Kirov,” Hannah said. “We didn’t come here to hurt you.”
“Perhaps not intentionally, but it easily could have happened. And assuming that you’re telling me the truth, why do you think I would willingly expose a customer?”
Eugenia smiled. “I negotiate for a living. I thought we could come to a meeting of minds.”
“My clients need to stay anonymous. If it got around that I was less than discreet, I wouldn’t stay in business—or alive—for very long.”
“It won’t get around,” Hannah said. “And we only want to help your client.”
“I never said that he’s my client. Just because someone referred him to me doesn’t mean we’ve actually done business together.”
“If that was the case, why bother with the bizarre airport pickup?” Eugenia said.
“I told you. I need to protect myself. While I’m beginning to believe that you’re using me to get to Kirov, I knew it was possible that you were using Kirov to get to me.”
Eugenia nodded. “I understand.”
They were both so cool and businesslike, and it suddenly made Hannah furious. She had been frightened and threatened, and they were acting as if it was commonplace.
“I don’t understand any of this bullshit,” Hannah said. “What I do understand is that because of your paranoia, a sniper just had me lined up in his sights.”
Eugenia patted Hannah’s arm comfortingly. “The first time’s always the hardest.” She glanced back at Walsh. “Now, Mr. Walsh, how do we fix this and both get what we want?”
Walsh gave her a cold glance. “I don’t have to fix it. I have you, and that’s all I need.”
Eugenia appeared taken aback. Her stance changed from confident to wary. “May we at least talk?”
He was silent, gazing at her without expression. “I don’t believe I have anything more to say to you.”
CHAPTER
6
Aviva Stadium
Dublin, Ireland
Kirov and Driscoll walked along the top level of the four-tiered soccer stadium, looking down at the match under way on the field. Almost fifty thousand fans were packed into the modernistic venue, which boasted a sweeping, curved design and translucent roof that covered the spectators.
Driscoll made a face. “What a pity. I suppose this place is all right, but there used to be a better one here. Much more charm, you know. Progress is one thing, but you can’t buy the feeling that the old Landsdowne Field gave you.”
Kirov spoke quietly. “I assure you that you’re going to look back at this place with a good deal of fondness. Do the job right, and you’ll be free to go anywhere, do anything you want with no threat hanging over you. Maybe that will give you warmer feelings for it.”
“The Landsdowne Field would have been an easier job.”
Kirov glanced at the
security cameras trained on the concourse. “I won’t dispute that. If this was going to be easy, I wouldn’t have brought you in.”
Driscoll looked across the arena at the third-level concourse, which housed most of the corporate boxes. “Gadaire’s suite is over there?”
“Yes. Straight down that corridor.”
“Why isn’t it on any of the blueprints I looked at?”
“Gadaire acquired a forty-percent stake in this facility just last spring. Part of the deal was that he got a two-thousand-square-foot hospitality suite that he can use for entertaining clients. He also has an office there. They shifted some of their corporate sponsors out of their boxes and created a megasuite for Gadaire.”
“Amazing. I wasn’t aware that he lived here.”
“He doesn’t. He occasionally jets in with friends or clients for games. Gadaire was born in France, but he was educated here at Trinity College. He became quite a fan of the Ireland National Football team while he was here, and it stayed with him.”
“And you’re positive he keeps that packet in his owner’s suite?”
Kirov nodded. “Yes. Where exactly, I can’t tell you. I assume there’s a safe in the office. I don’t know where it is. But that doesn’t mean he’d keep the packet there. Though it would be reasonable.”
“Reason sometimes has nothing to do with where people hide valuables,” Driscoll said. “But give me thirty minutes in that office, and I’ll be able to tell if he’s the type who has to lock it away or has the nerve to put that packet out in plain sight.”
“Thirty minutes is a long time. Fifteen maybe. When we start to move, it’s going to have to be at the speed of light. You should be able to get an idea of the complete layout tonight. That should help.”
At that moment, Charlie swaggered by with a serving cart. Dressed in a green jacket and black slacks, he didn’t break stride as he spoke to his father and Kirov. “Follow me, gents.”
Kirov smiled as he strolled after Charlie. “Looks like your son located the uniforms.”
Driscoll nodded, beaming as if his son had made the honor roll. “Warms my heart. He has great initiative. Makes me wish I hadn’t missed his first twenty-five years. His mother never let me know he was alive until she had to go into the hospital with tuberculosis. She wanted to make sure I’d take care of him.”
“He’s a bit old for a father’s tender loving care.”
“You’re never too old. I owe him. We get along just fine. He listens to me. He got into a lot of trouble with the law when he was a teenager, and if I’d been around before, I could have kept him out of trouble.”
Kirov arched a brow. “You’re going to tell him how to keep out of trouble with the local magistrates? Don’t you think that’s a little strange?”
Driscoll laughed. “Well, I would have shown him how to be so good that they would have never caught him.”
“No wonder his mother kept him away from you.”
“Yeah.” His smile faded. “She did the best she could. I didn’t have any business around a kid. I was too busy being Mister Big Shot. I’m older, and I’ve learned a few things now.” He glanced at Kirov. “Charlie’s beginning to like you. I can tell.”
“Because he hasn’t tried to strangle me lately?”
“Well, Charlie tends to be a little violent. But he respects you now, and that goes a long way with him.”
They turned right down a corridor that led into a stairwell. Kirov closed the stairwell door behind him while Charlie pulled the tablecloth off the serving cart to reveal two more uniforms.
“I found these uniforms in a closet near the first-floor kitchen. The servers in Gadaire’s suite are all wearing them,” Charlie said. “There’s probably a hundred people there, and at least ten servers. We should be able to get in and out without attracting too much attention.”
“Well done, Charlie.” He had been pleasantly surprised at the eagerness and efficiency of Charlie Diehl. He was smart and enthusiastic, if a little on the rough side. But once he had gotten over his first resentment toward Kirov, he had obeyed instructions without question and with alacrity. Kirov handed tiny button video cameras to the other two men. “Thread these over the collar and attach them to your top button. There’s only twelve minutes of recording time, but if we split up, that will be more than enough time for us to capture the entire layout in there.”
Driscoll pulled off his flannel shirt and slid into one of the green serving jackets. He smiled as Kirov helped him position the camera. “When I started out in the business, I had to remember everything and draw it out on paper later. I like your way better.”
Kirov smiled. “It just proves how talented you were to be able to do that. But it’s good to be appreciated. You’ll be interested to see what I can do with these videos after we get back.”
Kirov and Driscoll finished changing, and once they were sure their button cameras were placed for maximum coverage, the three men lifted the cart and carried it down to the third level. They emerged from the stairwell and pushed it toward the owner’s box, where they glided past the gray-suited security man standing watch at the entrance.
Kirov spoke quietly to the other two men. “Okay, I’ll meet you back at the stairwell in ten minutes. Go.”
Each of the men grabbed an empty serving tray from the cart, moved through the crowd, and began taking empty plates and glasses from the guests.
Kirov angled his body in every direction, making sure his camera captured as much of the area as possible. The suite was fronted by floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the playing field, with two tiers of seating just behind them. Beyond that, where most of the guests were spending their time, was a luxuriously appointed entertainment center with two full bars, several flat-screen monitors, and areas of sectional sofas. As with most corporate boxes he visited, very little attention was focused on the game. It amused him to notice that the participants in almost every conversation were constantly stealing glances at the entrance, looking to make sure they shouldn’t be talking to someone more important. He didn’t know most of the guests, but he recognized four well-known actors, a somewhat-past-his-prime rock star, and a professional athlete milling around.
A young male server passing canapés caught his eye and gave him a curious look. Kirov gave him a friendly nod that was quickly returned. The server went about his business.
Kirov glanced toward the back of the suite, where a door was slightly ajar. Gadaire’s office? He moved toward it, balancing his tray as he negotiated his way through a bottleneck of guests.
He paused at the door and glimpsed Gadaire leaning against his desk. He was talking to two seated men.
“May I help you?”
The soft, husky, voice came from behind him. He turned and found himself facing Anna Devareau. In her bronze velvet cocktail dress, she was even more beautiful than the photographs he’d seen, though obviously annoyed.
“I was going to see if Mr. Gadaire would like anything.”
“He’ll ask if he wants anything. You should know better than to bother him otherwise. Didn’t Arthur tell you?”
“Yes, ma’am. I’m sorry.” Don’t be too subservient. He knew his years of commanding a sub had given him an assurance that couldn’t be suppressed. If he tried, it came off phony as hell. He could only be dignified and polite. “I forgot. I’m just a fill-in.”
“And not very experienced.” Anna studied him. “You were a sailor, weren’t you?”
“Ma’am?”
“I was watching you. There’s a roll to your walk. It’s slight, but it’s there. You’ve spent a lot of time at sea.”
Kirov smiled. “I was on a commercial fishing vessel for nine years. You’re amazing.”
“And you’ve never worked as a server before, have you?”
“There’s no work on the docks right now. What gave me away?”
She sipped her champagne. “The way you’re holding that tray. You’re resting it entirely on your palm. Look around. All the o
ther servers also use their forearms. It’s better for balance.”
Kirov eased the tray back onto his forearm. “That’s a good tip. Thank you.”
She gazed at him thoughtfully, then flashed him a smile that he could only describe as dazzling. “My pleasure.” She glided into the office and closed the door behind her.
Kirov stared at the door for an instant. Anna Devareau was going to be a force with which to be reckoned. Observant, intelligent, and probably unpredictable. He wasn’t at all sure if she had been satisfied by his explanation. Anything out of place or unusual would probably trigger an uneasiness in her. It wouldn’t surprise him if she checked on him with Gadaire’s majordomo, Arthur. Time to beat a fast and discreet exit.
He made one last sweep of the room before leaving the suite.
Less than an hour later, they were back at Driscoll’s flat, and Charlie was still talking about Anna.
“I’ve never even seen a film star who was that gorgeous. She’s positively electric.”
Kirov smiled as he connected Charlie’s button camera to his laptop computer. “If I look at your surveillance footage and all I see is pictures of Anna Devareau, I’m going to be extremely annoyed.”
“Don’t you worry. I got the place covered. But tell me more about her. Where is she from?”
“She claims to be from a farm outside of Limoges, France.”
“What do you mean ‘she claims’?”
“Gadaire was involved in a sensitive financial transaction a few years ago, and one of the companies’ boards of directors did a background check on him and Anna. His past has always been fairly well documented, but hers didn’t check out at all. None of the villagers there remembered her or her family. She still sticks to her story, but I guess the answer to your question is, no one knows where she’s really from.”
Charlie shook his head and grinned. “Do you know what I think? I think Gadaire created her in a secret laboratory. He set out to create the perfect woman, and she’s the result.”
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