Among Thieves

“Gotta be.” They watched as Hewitt stood and crossed the street, headed into the Dunkin’ Donuts. “Shit,” she said.

“How the fuck did he get here?”

“He must have followed them too,” Sanchez said. “Goddammit.”

“What do we do now?” Stone asked.

She thought about it for a moment. “Maybe it isn’t such a bad thing,” she said. “I don’t think he’s seen us, and we know he’s go

“You still don’t trust them, do you?” Stone asked.

She looked at him. “Never have, never will,” she said.

Chapter Thirty-Six

No one in Devon’s apartment felt much like talking. Their only discussion concerned the plan to swap the paintings for Sally.

There wasn’t much to it, really. Calling it a plan at all might have been generous, but it was the best they could come up with on such short notice. Fi

The call came in to Fi

“Mr. Fi

“I do,” Fi

He could hear Kilbranish’s breathing get heavier on the other end of the line. “So, Devon was pla

“He did,” Fi

“Yes, we are. But if he crossed me once, he’ll do it again. How am I supposed to trust you?”

“You don’t have a choice,” Fi

“Very good, Mr. Fi

“I do. I only tell you that because if anything goes wrong, I’ve written a letter that I’m giving to a colleague of mine. The police and the feds and Interpol will know who and where you are within hours. So things better not go wrong.”

“That’s all up to you. I want you to put the paintings in a car and send your client to meet me,” Kilbranish began.

“No deal,” Fi

“You don’t dictate terms, Mr. Fi

“And I have half a billion dollars of stolen art. Art that you’ve traveled across an ocean after two decades to find. You have a girl I met a few days ago. Her father didn’t even know her last year.” As Fi

Kilbranish didn’t answer immediately, and Fi

“When and where?” Kilbranish said at last.

“Ten o’clock,” Fi

The breathing was still heavy. “Just two of you,” Kilbranish said. “No one else.”

“Just me and Devon,” Fi

“If you cross me,” Kilbranish said, “I’ll make sure you die. I kill for a living. I’ll kill everyone you know. You understand that?”

“I understand,” Fi

“I’ll be there,” Kilbranish said. Then the line went dead. Fi

Kozlowski let go of Devon’s face. “What the fuck!” Devon screamed as he jumped off the sofa. “Don’t touch me again!”

“Then don’t jeopardize this plan again,” Kozlowski said quietly. “You do anything that puts me or Fi

Devon looked at Fi

“Calm down, Devon,” Fi

“I didn’t fuckin’ agree to this!” Devon yelled. “I didn’t agree to lose control!”

A police car went by the apartment, its siren blaring and its flashers casting colorful shadows through the windows in the living room. They all looked out nervously, and no one said anything until it had passed.

“None of us are in control anymore,” Fi

“What did he say?” Kozlowski asked. “Will he be there?”

“He’ll be there,” Fi

Kozlowski stood up and took a deep breath. “Then I guess we’d better make sure that nothing goes wrong.”

Kilbranish hung up the phone at the house in Quincy and went straight to the door that led down to the basement. He had to move quickly; he wasn’t waiting until ten o’clock.

As he moved down the steps, he caught the stench. Broadark’s body had been there for more than a day. The basement was cool, but not cool enough to prevent decomposition, and it was clear from the smell that the organic processes had begun in earnest. A few more hours and the smell would make its way upstairs. By the time the next person entered the house, the body would be found in short order. That was fine with him, though. He had the place rented for the rest of the month. By the time anyone else came in, he’d be long gone. With luck, he’d be fighting again.

She no longer turned toward him when he came down the stairs. For the first day she’d jumped every time the stairs creaked. No more. That was normal. He’d had enough experience in kidnapping to recognize the signs of acceptance. It happened to all of them eventually, and it made his job easier-not only in that it made her less likely to try to escape, but in that it made her seem less human. It was easier to kill them once their spirits had been broken.

He moved over toward her and sat on the crate near her. He nudged her in the head with the muzzle of his gun. “It’s time,” he said.

At that, she turned her head and looked at him. He could see the terror in her face, and he could read her thoughts. She was wondering whether he was going to kill her now. Good, he thought. It was right that she remain frightened.

“I’m going to cut the tape on your hands. I’m taking you to your father.”

He reached forward and pulled the tape off her mouth. She still winced when it pulled the skin off around her lips, but not nearly as much as she had the first time. He had to give her credit for that, at least; she was no princess.

She worked her mouth in circles, testing its coordination as he cut the tape away from her hands. “Are you letting me go?” she asked.