Betrayal in Death

He turned to check his incoming on the three names Eve had given him earlier.

"You'd need an on-ground transfer vehicle. I'd use a hotel delivery lorry, sorry, truck. I wouldn't be greedy as I'd want the entire operation over in under thirty minutes. Twenty would be best. So I'd have earmarked the most valuable pieces. Those I had researched and already had buyers for."

He moved away, poured a brandy. "I'd have a distraction, but not in the hotel. Anything out of the ordinary in the hotel would automatically tighten security. I'd have something in one of the neighboring buildings, or in the park. A small explosion, an interesting vehicular accident, something that would draw people out, even pull in some cops. With cops outside the building going about their business, people feel safe and secure. Aye, I'd want cops about."

Jesus, she thought. Listen to him.

"When would you hit it?"

"Oh, the night before the auction, absolutely. All's gone well, hasn't it? What an exciting day tomorrow will be. Everything's all buffed and polished, and already celebrities and VIPs are in the hotel. The staff's busy seeing to them, asking for autographs, discussing who's who and the like. It's prime time for it."

"Could you pull it off?"

"Could I?" He looked back at her then, his eyes wildly blue. "Circumstances being other than they are, I'd be hellbent to try. And I'd damn well do it, if my mind was set on it. Which is why I don't believe anyone else could. Because all this I've anticipated already."

"And maybe someone knows you well enough, knows your pattern well enough to have anticipated that. And so you've been distracted. What are you doing and what has your mind been on for the past several days? You're not spending the evening checking your security, going over the steps, supervising your hotel team."

"There's a point," he said quietly. "It hasn't had my full attention, but it's still solid."

"Who do you know who could pull this off, besides yourself."

"Not many. I was the best."

"Applause, applause. Who?"

"Why don't you come sit over here?" He sat himself, patted his knee. "I'm sure I'll think better that way."

"What do I look like, the bimbo secretary?"

"No, not at the moment, but that might be fun. I'll be the horny executive, cheating on his long-suffering wife. Let's hear you say: 'Oh, Mr. Montegue, I couldn't possibly!' And make it breathy."

"That concludes the comic relief portion of our program. Who?"

"Two that might have gotten close to it are dead, proving my previous point as you'll note, I'm not. There may be one or two others. I'll do some checking."

"I want names."

His eyes cooled. "I'm not a weasel, Lieutenant, even for you. I'll do the checking. If there's a chance either of the ones I'm thinking of might be involved, I'll tell you. But not before I see for myself."

She strode over to him. "Lives are on the line, so you can eject your thief's code of honor."

"I'm aware lives are on the line. There was a day all I had to my name was that code of honor, battered as it might be. I'll see to this, and give you what there is as soon as I do. For now, I can tell you that Gerade here wouldn't be able to plan out such a complex and intricate operation. He's not a thief, even a poor one. Naples, yes, he could generate the talent, and he's plenty of his own. He's a top-line smuggler with excellent co

She bit back on impatience, reminding herself her first order of business wasn't to catch a thief, but to stop a killer.

"All right, I'll get on him."

"In the morning. You need a break. You have a headache."

"I don't have a headache." Her mouth moved to sulk. "Hardly."

In a lightning move, he kicked her left foot out from under her, snagged her by the waist, and caught her in his lap on her way down.

"I know just the thing for hardly a headache."

She tried to get an elbow into his gut, but he already had her arms pi

"You're such a spoilsport." He bit her ear. "Just for that, I don't want you in my lap."

"Fine. Then I'll just – "

The next thing she knew she was flat on her back on the floor, and under him. "Do you know how many beds are in this house?" she asked when she got her breath back.

"Not off the top of my head, but I can look it up."

"Never mind," she said, and pulled the leather tie from his hair.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

"Naples, Dominic J.," Eve began when her team was assembled for the morning briefing. "Age fifty-six, married, two children. Current residence, London, England, with alternate residences in Rome, Sardinia, New L.A., East Washington, Rio, and Caspian Bay, Delta Colony."

Like her team, she studied the image on-screen of a handsome, dark-eyed man with sharp features and a carefully styled mane of deep brown hair.

"The Naples organization, of which he is CEO, deals primarily in communication systems, with the main area handling off planet work. He's known for his charitable work, particularly in the education sphere, and has strong political co

She paused, ordered a second image on split screen. "His son, Dominic II, is the U.S. liaison to Delta Colony and is reputed to have aspirations for a higher office. Dominic II also happens to be old friends with Michel Gerade, the son of the French ambassador."

She added the image of a man with lustrous waves of gold hair, a full-lipped mouth, and, in her opinion, a soft chin.

"On record," she continued, "Naples is dingy, but unsoiled. There have been, in the past, some speculations, some questions, some minor investigations into activities of some of the arms of Naples Org, but nothing that stuck, or made a smear. My source, however, reports that Naples is, and has been, involved in various criminal activities. Illegals, smuggling, e-fraud, theft, extortion, and very likely murder. He's also our most solid co

She shifted images, ordered up a new set of triples onscreen. "These three men, Naples, Hinrick, and Gerade, met in Paris eight months ago, ostensibly to discuss plans for a multinational com system. Hinrick is a successful smuggler, and though his official record isn't quite as clean as Naples, it passes. Winifred Gates acted as interpreter for these men during their meetings. This com system never developed, and Winifred Gates was murdered. Her case remains open, and she is listed as one of Sylvester Yost's victims."

She shifted images again. "Britt and Joseph Hague, deceased. Known smugglers. They were murdered six months ago, and are listed as victims of Yost's. This has been confirmed by the recovery of two lengths of silver wire yesterday by the local authorities.

"Their bodies were found in Cornwall. Yost spent a few days in London prior to their deaths. Naples's main base is now London. These smugglers are reputed to have trespassed on the turf of a bigger, more powerful organization. It's suspected that they were hit to remove them from competition, and to make a point to others who might be tempted to infringe."

She picked up her coffee. She'd had less than three hours of sleep and needed the jolt. "Three years ago in Paris, a female entertainer was beaten, raped, garroted with a silver wire. Monique Rue," she continued as she brought the woman's face on-screen. "Twenty-five, single, mixed-race female was found in an alleyway a few blocks from the club where she worked. She had been, according to statements made by friends and co-workers, involved in an affair with Michel Gerade. She was becoming dissatisfied with mistress status. Gerade, good friend of Dominic II, clung to his diplomatic status, and issued a single statement through a representative."