The Uccello Connection (Genevieve Lenard, #10)

by Estelle Ryan

  “Why does he want to talk to me?” Isabelle stepped closer to me. “You didn’t say when you phoned.”

  I hadn’t said much when I’d phoned her. Manny had been most displeased when he’d found out about the call. I had only told Isabelle that I needed her to come to Rousseau & Rousseau immediately and she’d agreed without asking for information. “I went into the conference room to interview Emad, but he refused to co-operate. He said that he would only speak to me if you were there as well.”

  “How strange.” Isabelle shrugged. “Why do you want to interview him again?”

  “I no longer believe what he told us before to be the complete truth.”

  “Well then, let’s go.”

  “The president is going to have my job and my head for this.” Luc turned to Phillip. “Please tell me you have coffee in this place. Very, very strong coffee.”

  Phillip smiled and gestured toward the front desk. “Timothée will bring everyone coffee. I assume you will be in front of the conference room door?”

  “I’m going in with Isa... the first lady.”

  “Only Isabelle and I are to go in.” I found the fury on Luc’s face interesting. “Being angry is counter-productive. It won’t result in anyone agreeing to your demands.”

  Isabelle laughed. “Get your coffee and wait for me, Luc. I’ll be fine.”

  I couldn’t wait any longer. I walked to the conference room and exhaled in relief when I heard Isabelle’s footsteps behind me. I had been deeply disappointed when Emad had refused to speak to me. I had seen his deep concern and his desire to talk, but I had also seen his determination to have Isabelle join us.

  “Doc.” Manny rushed to my side. “We’ll be out here. I’ve got the security camera feed on my tablet and will come in whenever I deem it necessary. Just try to get as much from this bloody arsehole as possible.”

  I nodded and put my hand on the door handle.

  “Wait, wait.” Isabelle put her hand on the door as if to prevent it from opening. “What am I supposed to do?”

  I thought about it. “Trust your intuition.”

  “I’ll do my best.” Isabelle took her hand from the door and nodded. “Let’s do this.”

  I opened the door and stepped inside. Emad was still in the same place he’d been when I’d left the room less than an hour ago. The coffee mug on the table in front of him was empty, as was the plate that had held two sandwiches. His eyes widened when Isabelle followed me into the room. “I didn’t think you’d come.”

  “Monsieur Vernet.” Isabelle sat down two chairs from him. I sat down across from her, also two chairs from Emad. She appeared completely relaxed, but I wondered if Emad also noticed her increased pulse beating in the carotid artery in her neck. “I’m intrigued. Why do you want me here?”

  “To the point. Good.” Emad put his hands palms down on the table and leaned towards Isabelle. “I don’t know who to trust.”

  “And I’m worthy of your trust?”

  The small smile lifting the corners of his mouth was genuine. “It’s more a matter of elimination than true trust. Although”—he glanced at me—“I do trust Doctor Lenard.”

  “Then why do you need me here?”

  “Because I know how much you have at stake. I know how hard you’ve worked to support your husband and how hard you’ve both worked to make the peace deal with Russia a reality. I also know how much the last scandal set you back and the effort you put in to prove every single allegation false. It took you less than three months to regain the trust of France and the rest of Europe.”

  Isabelle’s eyes widened. “You know an awful lot about my life, Monsieur Vernet.”

  “Emad, please.” He shrugged. “We’re way past formalities. And yes, I do know a lot about you. It’s my job to know things about people. You’ve proven yourself to be a woman of integrity. I can only hope that you will not bury what I have to say under mountains of paperwork. Or use it to your own advantage. I know Genevieve won’t. But I don’t trust any of the people outside that door. You two are the only ones I believe will take action.”

  “Okay.” Isabelle also placed her hands on the table. This mirroring action revealed her willingness to listen to Emad. “I’m here. I’m listening. What do you need us to hear?”

  “No. Not yet. First I need to know that both of you will use every bit of power and influence you have to get me out of this mess. I’m tired of everyone thinking they can control me. I want my life back.” He pulled his shoulders back. “I want to live in Wyoming. I want a small farm, or like the Americans call it, a ranch, where I can have a few horses and a lot of peace and quiet. I don’t care if the French government knows where I am, as long as everyone just leaves me be. I’m done with this life. I’m done serving masters who change loyalties all the time.”

  “I don’t know if I can make any of this happen, Emad.” There was censure in the look Isabelle gave him. “You swore an oath to serve this country when you agreed to work for the DGSE. You knew the life of a spy was not going to be easy.”

  “But I didn’t know that I would completely lose control over my own life. All I ask is to be left alone.”

  Isabelle leaned back. “As far as I understand you’ve been involved in countless criminal activities. I don’t know if any law enforcement agency would let you live with your horses on a ranch as if you’ve never done anything wrong.”

  “Just give me your word that you’ll try to make it happen for me.”

  Isabelle glanced at me, then looked back at Emad. “I will try.”

  “What about you?” Emad looked at me.

  “I don’t have any influence over such a decision.”

  He smiled. “You honestly don’t know how much power you have, do you? Of course you don’t. Just tell me that, if you are asked, you will give your honest assessment of me. And that you’ll tell the decision-makers that I would benefit from a peaceful life away from all these political games.”

  “I will never give anything but my honest assessment.” I glanced at the clock above the door. It was twenty-one minutes to two. We were wasting time. “Do you have any useful information?”

  He looked at me for a long time before he lifted one shoulder. “I don’t know what will be useful to you or not. Simply because I don’t know what you’ve discovered so far. I’d hoped that by sending you enough clues, you’d figure it all out and Fradkov would already be arrested. Or even better, he’d be dead. That way he will never know that I stabbed him in the back and I would be free from him. But alas, here we are. I hope that at least by now you know that Fradkov is planning an attack in”—he glanced at the clock above the door—“less than three and half hours.”

  “We know about that.”

  “Do you know which cities he plans to attack?” He huffed a humourless laugh. “Sorry. I shouldn’t have asked. Of course you won’t answer that. But I don’t know if you’ve been able to find out that a few of those cities are red herrings.”

  It took a few seconds to remind myself that he was not talking about fish, but I needed clearer information. “Explain.”

  “Fradkov wants you to run around chasing your tails. He’s only interested in embarrassing and hurting Russia’s most obvious enemies.”

  “And who might that be?” Isabelle asked.

  “The US, Ukraine and Poland.”

  “What about the UK? Germany?”

  He started shaking his head before she finished her question. “Those countries are influenced by the US. Poland has always had a contentious relationship with Russia, even more so in the last few years. Ukraine is quite obvious. Russia wants more power over their neighbour, but the western part of Ukraine is not willing to listen to the loyalties of the poor eastern part. If Kiev suddenly suffers the results of a deadly dirty bomb, even the East will take up arms against Russia.”

  “To what end?” All I had was a hypothesis. I was most interested in Emad’s answer.

  “There is a piece of land in Siberia that
Fradkov wants. He has offered the Russian government millions for that land, but they refused. Then he threatened to reveal damning evidence on eight strategic Russian officials, but that also didn’t work. And when he threatened to create irrefutable evidence that General Sokolov is a traitor, they still wouldn’t give him the land.”

  “Who’s General Sokolov?” I asked.

  “He’s the person in control of that land. And he’s a very powerful man in the Kremlin. And he wasn’t intimidated by Fradkov. That made Fradkov livid and now he wants to show them exactly what he’s capable of.”

  “By killing thousands of innocent people.” The horror on Isabelle’s face was real.

  “He doesn’t care. And he sees the deaths of these people as incidental, collateral damage. This is just part of him making his point to Russia.”

  “For a piece of land?” I studied every single micro-expression Emad exhibited. The footage had made me familiar with his deception cues. Now I would know when he was lying.

  “Not just any piece of land.” There was no calculation or falsehood visible on his face. “It’s in the far north of Russia, in the Siberian Federal District. The land he wants is rich with nickel. A few of the mines in the area are in financial trouble or facing other obstacles preventing them from modernisation. General Sokolov is old school. He doesn’t believe in pouring money into maintenance. And these mines seriously need maintenance. They’ve fallen into dangerous disrepair. Fradkov wants control of the land and the mines. He’ll use part of the forty million to upgrade the mines. It will be an investment since that land and the mines will belong to him.”

  “A lot of power and money.” It fitted Fradkov’s profile perfectly.

  Emad nodded. “So when Lev Markov came to Fradkov with his plan, Fradkov thought it was the perfect opportunity for him to force the Kremlin to agree to his demands.”

  “Does Russia know that Fradkov is trying to set them up?” Isabelle asked.

  “Yes.” His micro-expressions were most telling.

  I pointed at his face. “They approached you, didn’t they?”

  “They did. Somehow they found out that Claude had gotten himself, and therefore me, involved with Fradkov. After Fradkov’s failed attempt a few months ago, they put all their spies to work and found me. I was in Paris a month after Claude died when they came to me. I was still pretty angry that my brother was dead. I was angry with Claude, Fradkov, Gallo, that Daniel person who killed my brother, and your whole team.

  “So, when they laid out their case and offered me ten million euros to find out Fradkov’s plan and get them access to him so they could kill him, I was very happy to aim all my anger at one person.”

  “Why would Russia want to kill Fradkov?” Isabelle’s blinking increased. She looked shocked that she’d asked that question. “I mean, why wouldn’t they ask you to do it? You had physical access to him.”

  “They wouldn’t trust anyone else to do the job properly. Two of the generals who are under Fradkov’s control said they wanted to make sure Fradkov was truly dead. Apparently they’ve had assassins collaborate with their intended victim to fake that person’s death. I was glad for this. I’m not an assassin.”

  “Is this the reason you stayed in that house even though you have the skills to have left and most likely disappear?” I had wondered about Emad’s motivation for being a captive.

  “Partly.” He shrugged. “I was also trying to figure out a way to stop him. He’s grown too powerful, his reach too long and too far. Someone needs to end the control he has over the dozens of decision makers.” He paused for a moment, looking at me. “A few of those he gained with initial contact, like sending magazines.”

  It felt as if my heart stopped beating and all my body heat escaped. It took all my inner strength to control my reaction and my voice. “How did you find out about the journals he was sending me?”

  “He boasted about it.” Emad looked down for a few seconds as if conversing with himself. When he looked up, determination lined his face. “I found a way to access his security cameras. You found the stills I took? Ah, good. I wanted you to know that he was fucking with you.

  “When Claude was alive and Fradkov still trusted me, he would often boast that he would study his newest quarry until he was sure he could find a weak point. I have no idea how those magazines could exploit your weaknesses, but he was as giddy as a freaking teenager when he sent you that first magazine.

  “The last two months, he stopped talking to me about anything important. Sometimes he let something slip, but he kept our communication to orders and threats. That’s when I found a way to hack into his system to see what he was up to. And that’s when I discovered the shit he was planning. I might no longer be France’s favourite little spy, but I couldn’t let this fly.”

  “Where are your loyalties at the moment?” Isabelle lowered her chin and stared at Emad.

  “With my father.” He swallowed. “And France. My loyalty has always been with France.”

  “Even when you were smuggling contraband?”

  “My superiors knew about this and approved. As long as there were no deaths, it gave me access to a high-end criminal element the DGSE had never been able to infiltrate. At first I was surprised how many politicians and billionaires bought art, diamonds and other valuables on the black market.

  “But everything became so convoluted. It’s true that being a spy is like living in a forest of mirrors. I reached a point where I didn’t know whether my handlers at the DGSE weren’t just as corrupt as the other people I dealt with on a daily basis. Then Fradkov happened.”

  His expression was revealing. I leaned forward. “He made you doubt even more.”

  “After Claude’s death, I had no one to go to. That document leaked with President Godard’s emails.” He looked at Isabelle. “It really made it look like he was receiving benefits for almost every treaty, bill or new contract signed.”

  “I know.” Isabelle had lost weight in those first few weeks and had looked exhausted every time we’d met for lunch. It had taken three months before the last allegation had been proven false.

  Emad pushed his fingers through his hair. It was the first time he had acted on his distress. “Fradkov was there. He knew just what to say and do to make me second-guess everything I believed in. And he got me to trust him. I suppose it worked both ways. It was three or four weeks after Claude’s death that he told me about his plans for Russia.”

  “Was that before or after you were approached by Russia?” I hated it when people relayed events non-chronologically.

  “A few days before.” He thought about it some more. “Yes. It was a few days before. That’s why I wasn’t surprised when they told me that they knew about Fradkov’s plans and that they wanted me to stop him from starting a third world war.”

  “Did they know about the polonium-210?” I asked.

  “Oh, yes. They knew about that as well as Fradkov’s plans to weaponise it. Although they found that out only two months ago.”

  I frowned. “Your nonverbal cues are telling me you deceived them.”

  “If the omission of the truth is a lie, then I suppose I did.” He tilted his head back and looked at the ceiling for a few seconds. When he looked back at me, the exhaustion around his eyes was more prominent. “Look, I don’t know if I can trust anyone in the DGSE anymore, but I’ll be damned if I’m going to see Russia take forcible action on French soil. Or any European soil for that matter.”

  “What forcible action?”

  “If I told Russia that Fradkov was planning the dirty bombs in LA, New York and the other cities, they would not have acted subtly. Russia would not just sit back and trust these countries to deal with it on their own. They’re so desperate not to be tied to the bombings that their actions would’ve tied them to it.”

  “Why didn’t Fradkov kill you?” This question had been bothering me for a while. “You said he distrusted you so much. Why not just eliminate the threat?”


  Emad’s smile was genuine. “Because he couldn’t afford to. See, being a spy taught me to always cover my ass. From the moment Claude started dealing with Fradkov, I made sure to gather as much damning evidence on that psycho as I could. I recorded our conversations, found out about quite a few of his residences, figured out his bank accounts.” He stopped. “Hey, did you figure out his bank accounts?”

  I didn’t answer him. Manny would be furious if I revealed any of our discoveries.

  “Of course.” He snorted. “You’re not going to tell me what you know. Well, let me just make sure you know that he has that Russian-registered company Paporotnik and that he has an account in St Kitts and Nevis. Ah. You know about that. Good. Good. I was worried that someone would stumble across that shit and think that Madame Godard did things she didn’t do.”

  “It still doesn’t explain why Fradkov wouldn’t just kill you.”

  “Ah, yes. The first time he accused me of working against him, I told him about all the intel I had on him. And that all of that was set to be delivered upon my death. If I don’t stop that scheduled email from being sent, it will wait twenty-four hours and then off it goes.”

  “Addressed to whom?”

  “My father, of course. Although I didn’t tell Fradkov that.”

  We were silent for a few seconds. It was an interesting feeling of satisfaction to know how Emad had gained the knowledge about all the things he used as clues. I thought of everything else he had revealed.

  “But why the games?” I didn’t understand why he didn’t just come to us earlier with all this information. “Why the app on your father’s phone? You wasted a lot of time with your games.”

  He was quiet for a long time. “I didn’t know if I could trust you. I needed to see how you were handling my dad. And how you were handling the intel I was sending you.”

  “You weren’t sending us a lot of useable information.”

  “And yet you managed to learn a lot.” Brief concern flashed across his face. “I knew Fradkov would be waiting for you at his flat, but I didn’t know how to warn you. I was counting on your team being smart enough to not step into his traps.”