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“THERE WE GO.” INGE stepped back from the large electronic whiteboard. She handed Vinnie a cable, her smile shy, almost convincing. “This will connect your tablet and we can watch the shipyard as well as Colin and Armando here.”
Vinnie stared at the cable, not moving to take it. “Is this thing connected to the internet?”
“Nope.” Inge waved around. “We’ve been keeping everything offline, so the Collector can’t access what we know. Jake of all people brought this whiteboard in so we can have something electronic to save our brainstorming sessions.”
“Hmm.” Vinnie took the cable, connected it to his tablet and tapped the screen. “And you haven’t taken any photos of these notes, right?”
“Of course not!” Her outrage was negated by her mischievous smile. She winked at him. “I also have not been planning to accidentally take this whiteboard home with me.”
My eyes widened when the large monitor flickered once before displaying the video footage from Vinnie’s tablet. Francine had shown me a similar model, but I’d rejected the idea of buying yet another device.
Before Vinnie had connected the tablet, I’d had a mere glimpse at notes scrawled all over the monitor. Those had been handwritten notes with annotations made in different colours. A pen tipped with soft plastic was magnetically attached to the frame. The possibilities of this device made me reconsider my initial opinion.
The video quality was not as good as the top-of-the-range monitors in my viewing room, but the images were clear as I watched Manny and Daniel opening more crates to reveal even more paintings with clowns added in the background.
I had a limited view from Colin’s body camera. He was driving and the camera was pointed slightly above the steering wheel. They were currently stuck in traffic. At seventeen minutes past five in the afternoon, it was to be expected.
Inge turned to me. “I know you have many questions. But I would like to say something before you ask.”
I frowned when she paused, looking at me expectantly. “So, say what you want to say.”
“Oh. Yes.” The corners of her eyes crinkled with humour when Vinnie chuckled. She pulled two chairs closer, sat down on one and pointed at the other. “Please sit.”
I didn’t want to. I had far too much nervous energy, worrying about Manny and Daniel with Paulo. And worrying about Colin. Yet I sat down. I needed to hear what Inge had to say.
“Okay, so... um...” She closed her eyes for a moment, then opened them and blurted, “I’m so stupid. I can’t believe I fell for this. Armando told you that Jake has a source who’s been giving us all kinds of things from the Collector’s garbage, right? Well, I naïvely thought those magazines, newspapers and other junk Jake’s source gave us were giving us more intel on the Collector. But you guys really rained on my parade.” Her shoulders sagged. “And when I think about this, I’m more and more convinced that we’re being duped.”
“Explain.”
“It didn’t smell right.” She gave Vinnie a rude look when he snorted. “I’m serious here. Rubbish has a specific smell. The magazines, newspapers and envelopes Jake brought here didn’t smell like rubbish. Sure, it was dirty, but it was clean dirty.”
“That doesn’t make sense.”
“To me it does. But to give a clearer explanation, I’m totally guessing here, but it was as if someone smeared ketchup and mayonnaise here and there on the stuff and tossed a few candy wrappers in there for good measure. It didn’t smell... off.” She laughed softly as if to herself. “And that is why it smelled... off.”
Vinnie chuckled. “Good one.”
I didn’t waste my time trying to interpret her neurotypical wordplay. Her nonverbal cues were much more intriguing. She wasn’t shielding her true emotions like Armando did all the time. I wondered if it was because she was feeling safe with us and didn’t realise she was lowering her defensive mechanisms. I saw more than just glimpses of her intellect, her deep concern and her curiosity.
I took a moment to consider what she’d told us. The profile I’d created on the Collector would support her theory that the Collector was possibly the one feeding them this so-called intel. The games the Collector played were more complex and calculated than Armando’s attempts at diverting our attention or his struggle with sharing what he knew.
It was possible that the Collector had sent the garbage. It was also possible that the Collector had manipulated somebody into a compromising position and that person was desperate to escape the Collector’s hold over them. The intel they’d garnered from the garbage could be important. Or not.
I studied Inge for a few more seconds. She was confused. And worried.
She smiled at Vinnie and turned to me. “I know who you are. I know you can see right through me. Ask me anything. I will be as honest as possible.”
“Wow.” Vinnie raised both eyebrows. “Is she telling the truth, Jen-girl?”
I nodded, still looking at Inge. “But I also see your dismay at this situation. And your determination.”
Her smile was wide. “I like you so much. So very, very much.”
I didn’t know how to respond to it, so I focused on the many questions I had. “Tell me everything you know about Oizys.”
“Well, there’s not much. I already told you they’re an insurance company that has insured a few shipments that we traced back to Conhecedor.” She winced. “But that’s really all I know. Should I ask my hacker friends to check them out?”
“No.” I didn’t want someone less skilled than Francine to work on this and possibly alert the Collector we had this intel. I thought about everything Inge had told us earlier. “You mentioned that Conhecedor invested in a company. Is it Oizys?”
“No. That is...” She got up and walked to the whiteboard. “Vinnie, I’m going to steal this from you for a second.” She tapped the screen and the video feeds disappeared.
I inhaled sharply.
“I’ll keep an eye on our guys, Jen-girl,” Vinnie said. “The moment something happens, I’ll let you know.”
“And I’ll put the feed back on the whiteboard once I show you this.” Inge tapped the screen a few more times, then stepped to the side. “This is one of the emails from the Conhecedor email address. Damn. You know what? Now I don’t even know if I trust this anymore. What if the Collector gave this to Jake’s source to give to Jake just to screw with us?”
“That is probable.” It was disappointing that the information Armando had used to convince us to come to Portugal was proving to be doubtful. “But there is also the possibility that there might be intel of worth buried in everything you’ve received.”
“Well, in that case, then maybe this email might have worth.” She sighed. “I hope. You remember I told you that I have a hacker friend? Well, he told me that the first place one should look”—she held up one finger, her lips twitching in mischief—“if one were to accidentally find oneself in another person’s email account, was the bin. People often delete their emails, but don’t empty the bins. Most email servers keep those emails for a month or even longer before they’re deleted.”
I was growing impatient with her long explanation. “And that’s where you found this email of worth. What is the content?”
“This is where I found the mention of Conhecedor investing in another company.” She pointed to the screen. “Almada. See, this is a short email sent to Conhecedor, just mentioning that the transfer to Almada is completed.”
Something about this name sounded familiar. I knew I’d come across it in our investigation, but was sure ‘Almada’ didn’t come up as the name of a company connected to Conhecedor, but couldn’t place it immediately.
This email was raising more questions, not offering many answers. I turned my attention from the whiteboard screen to Inge and what I’d observed about her. “What did you find out about Almada?”
She smiled. “This time I didn’t ask my hacker friend. I did my own little online search. All I found is that Almada is a venture capital company. Their website is bare-bones. It looks very pretty, but doesn’t have any real information about the company. It’s the kind of website created only to make a place look legit.”
I got up and stepped closer to the screen. The email address that had sent this email caught my eye. It took all my control not to react. The first part of the email address was a string of numbers, but what was significant was the server: whiteelephant.tor. This email had originated from the forum Francine had heard the muggers mention. The forum where the Collector had put out the contract on my best friend.
I took three slow breaths and returned to my chair. “What else do you know?”
“Well, Almada was registered in St Kitts and Nevis, but with a bank account here in Portugal as well.” She held up one finger and waved it at Vinnie. “Don’t ask how I know. But I can guarantee you, I found this information in a way the Collector can’t trace. I also learned that the owner of Almada is registered as an E.I. Dolon. And that is all I know about Almada.”
Vinnie held his thumb and index finger together with only a three-millimetre space between them. He shook his fingers at me. “I’m this close to being confused between all these frigging companies.”
“Why?” I didn’t see the reason for his confusion. “There are only three companies we’ve uncovered so far. Conhecedor has direct links to the shipments of numerous artworks we’ve connected to the Collector. Conhecedor invested in Almada, which as you’ve heard is a venture capital company based in a tax haven. Oizys—an insurance company that insured the shipment of art at the fine art gallery— is the third company also connected to Conhecedor. How can you be confused about this?”
“When you put it like that, it’s much less confusing than it was in my mind a few minutes ago.” He smiled when Inge giggled.
“I want full access to this email address.” I pointed at the whiteboard.
“I’ll give you everything we have. I’ve taken photos of everything here.” She waved her arm to include all the papers against the crates and boxes as well as the tables. “Those photos are in a very safe cloud account. The screenshots of the emails that you can see here are also in the cloud account. I’ll share access to the cloud account with you.”
And I would immediately give it to Francine and Pink. They could work their way through there without alerting anyone to their online snooping and maybe trace the account back to something more substantial. Something that would lead us directly to the Collector.
“Jen-girl.” Vinnie held up his tablet. “They’re at the gallery.”
Inge tapped the screen a few times and the video feed once again filled the electronic whiteboard. She walked back to her chair next to me and sat down. Vinnie pulled a chair closer and sank down in it. The only evidence of his tension was the way he was clutching his tablet.
On screen, Colin and Armando were walking to a four-storey building. The ground floor hosted shops, only three visible on the view I had from Colin’s bodycam. One was completely shuttered and the other looked like an upmarket children’s toy store. It was the store to the right Colin and Armando were aiming for. Two large windows to the left of the entrance displayed colourful artworks. The single large window to the right displayed a hand-painted dinner service on a wooden table.
Armando was walking next to Colin, his hand coming into view whenever he was gesturing. They were talking about new security measures museums were implementing. A different tension flooded my system when they walked closer to the two large glass doors of the gallery and I saw their reflections.
Colin was wearing a disguise. He looked twenty years older, three sizes bigger and his long, grey hair was tied in a messy ponytail.
Armando was wearing glasses, his hair covered in a floppy hat, his athletic physique hidden under an oversized, wrinkled and outdated pinstripe suit. Work boots completed the outrageous outfit. With Colin’s glasses and puffier cheeks and Armando’s full beard, it would be hard for any facial recognition system to identify them.
That was the only reason I accepted this. It kept Colin safe. But I still hated it.
They reached the doors and Armando pulled on one door, but it didn’t budge.
“They’re closed.” Colin’s index finger came into view as he pointed at business hours sandblasted on the glass in an elegant font. “It’s Thursday, so they closed at three. They’ve been gone for more than two hours already.”
“Hmm.” Armando turned to Colin, his half-smile lifting his cheek. “Maybe we are needed at the back of the building? Maybe we should see if anyone needs our help there?”
Colin huffed a laugh and waved his hand. “After you.”
Armando nodded and walked to the side of the building. Now that Colin was following him, I could see the scrappy backpack resting against Armando’s back. I wondered what was in there that it was important enough to bring with him.
They entered a small alley the length of the block, buildings on both sides blocking the last daylight, making the video shadowy and grainy. I took comfort that it gave them better cover. At this moment, Colin’s safety was causing me great distress.
“This is it,” Armando said and pointed to their left.
Colin followed Armando into a small courtyard. I leaned away from the whiteboard and crossed my arms tightly over my chest. The courtyard was more cluttered than my mind could process. Furnishings, wooden pallets, rubbish bags and a few large canvas cloths used during renovations were scattered all over the small area.
They made their way to the back door, neither of the men speaking, their footsteps inaudible. Both men were thieves and clearly excelled in stealth.
“Hmm.” Armando turned slightly, his voice a mere whisper. “The door.”
Colin didn’t respond verbally. He was still facing the thin strip of light coming through the open door. Had the courtyard not been covered in shade at the end of the day, that glow might not have been visible. It was more like a living room lamp used for ambience rather than illumination.
Colin gestured towards the side of the courtyard and Armando nodded. They gingerly stepped over the litter and made their way to a large signboard resting against the wall. There was enough space under it for both men to disappear from view, but Armando didn’t go in.
He waved Colin in, then leaned closer, his voice low. “Stay here and watch the door. I have a plan.”
Colin’s hand shot out to grab Armando, but the latter was already halfway to the alley. “Dammit. Vin, keep a close eye on us. I have a bad feeling about this. Call Millard the moment it’s needed.”
Colin wasn’t wearing an earpiece to hear Vinnie’s response. Before we’d even entered the plane, they’d decided the bodycams were enough. The chance of Paulo seeing the earpiece and reacting irrationally was too big a risk to take. I agreed. Not only that, but having someone speak in their ear at a crucial moment would be a distraction that could be fatal. I wanted Manny, Daniel and Colin fully focused. And alive.
“Oh, hell.” Colin’s grunt didn’t hide the sound of police sirens and shouting suddenly filling the air. It sounded like a raid with dozens of police officers.
The next moment, the back door flew wide open and two men rushed out. Both were dressed in black with ski-masks covering their faces. They were clumsy as they stumbled over the clutter.
“Come on!” the taller of the two whisper-shouted at his partner. I was surprised to hear them speak English and shelved that to analyse later.
The shorter man was awkwardly carrying a large canvas bag. The bag had no reinforcement, making the outline of the contents easy to see. Taking into consideration where they were, I felt comfortable guessing there were at least three paintings in that bag.
“We should’ve spent more money on a better bag. This thing is shite!”
“Shut your trap and move it!” The taller man tripped over a pallet and swore crudely as he regained his balance and ran into the alley.
The shorter man guffawed with laughter, still running clumsily. As he ran past a broken steel filing cabinet, the sling of the bag caught on the handle and the bag was ripped from his shoulder.
“Fuck.” He turned to pick up the bag, but loud voices came from the alley. He glanced at the paintings, then shook his head. “Not fucking worth it.”
He ran into the alley and disappeared from view. A few seconds later, Armando strolled in, putting a device in his backpack. “All clear?”
“Out here, yes.” Colin’s answer was clipped and quiet. I knew that tone. It wasn’t often that he was this angry. He stepped away from the signboard and walked towards the canvas bag. “I don’t know if it’s clear inside.”
“We’ll check in a minute. Wait. Are you pissy?” Armando’s half-smile broadened when he looked at Colin’s face. “You are.”
“And you’re an idiot who could’ve gotten us killed.” Colin picked up the bag and placed it on top of the filing cabinet. “Have you not seen all the destruction the Collector sows? Your plan to flush them out with that stupid recording could easily have backfired and we’d both be dead. Or blown to pieces.”
The more Colin spoke, the more Armando’s face became sober, his depressor anguli oris muscles pulling the corners of his mouth down. “Damn. I’m sorry. I didn’t even think about bombs.”
“You just didn’t think.” Colin turned towards the back door that was now open. “I take the lead and you follow.”
“For now.”
Colin grunted and walked into the gallery. The back room seemed to double as a kitchen and storeroom. It was as cluttered as the courtyard. How could people work in such an environment? I shuddered and was thankful when Colin stepped into a short hallway.
To the left was a closed door with a sticker of a dog lifting his leg against a tree. I assumed that would be the washroom. The hallway opened up into a large gallery and nothing looked disturbed.
To the right was an open door that led to a brightly lit office. I had a limited view to the right and tried to figure out how large the office was until Colin jerked. “Vin, call Millard.”
“Who are you talking to? What’s in that room?”
The camera jostled as if Armando tried to push past Colin. But everything stilled when Colin’s arm shot out to block the doorway. “I go in alone. Wait here for me. I might need your help.”
“My help with what?”
Colin ignored Armando’s question and walked into the room.
That was when I saw it.
On the large, empty desk was a white box. Papers, envelopes and other stationery were strewn all over the floor as if someone had pushed them off the desk to make place for that box.
“What’s in the box?” Inge whispered next to me.
I barely registered Vinnie’s answer or his activity on his phone. I needed to know Colin was safe and I suspected that the contents of that box were putting his life in terrible danger.
He stopped next to the desk, the video moving with his deep and slow inhale. “Vin.”
“Motherfucker.” Vinnie jumped up and walked to the whiteboard.
In the box was a mess of wires. Under the wires were two blocks of what looked like moulding clay. I had overheard enough conversations between Vinnie, Daniel and Manny to suspect it was C-4. It was one of the most stable explosives, only exploding from a detonator or a shockwave. Not even being set on fire or being shot at would detonate it. But when armed, it posed a destructive threat that was causing darkness to enter my peripheral vision.
I was glad I had stopped listening to Vinnie sharing details about the blast radius. I didn’t want to know how much death and devastation those two blocks so close to Colin could cause.
Vinnie stepped even closer to the whiteboard. A few months ago, he’d joined GIPN for a weeklong training course in explosives and how to disarm them. He’d graduated that course at the top of his class, much to Daniel’s amusement and all the others’ annoyance. He mumbled to himself, then lifted his phone and tapped the screen.
Colin answered on the first ring. “Can you disarm this?”
“Yes. This bomb is an insult to all bomb-makers. It’s like someone Googled a bomb-making recipe and looked for the easiest five and slapped them all together.”
“And cell phone signals won’t set it off?”
“Set what off?” Armando walked into the room, his gasp loud. “Oh, hell no. Fuck no. I didn’t sign on for this. Not bombs. I’m out of here.”
Immediately, his footsteps could be heard retreating.
“A bomb?” Inge put both her hands on her head. “Why isn’t he getting out of there?”
“Because all the floors above this gallery are filled with families.” Colin inhaled slowly. “Vin, am I on speake... not important. Can our call set this thing off?”
“Nope. It’s on a timer. See the digital clock in the centre? Yup, that’s the timer. Lean a bit in so... oh, fuck. Well. That’s... fuck, dude. You’re going to have to disarm it. We only have twenty-five seconds left.”
“Tell me how.” Colin’s calm tone didn’t surprise me, yet it devastated me. He was an incredible source of strength under pressure, but I didn’t want him to be there. In danger.
I was gripping my arms tightly across my chest, my breathing ragged. Vinnie’s instructions sounded nonsensical, but as long as it was clear to Colin, I didn’t care.
“Now lift the brown wire for me to see. Ah.” Vinnie nodded. “Idiots thought to confuse us with swapping the colours. Cut the red one.”
“The red one?” Inge’s whisper ended in a high pitch. “In the movies, it’s never the red one.”
For a moment, Colin moved away from the desk, turning this way and that. Then he bent down and picked up a large pair of scissors. “This will have to do the job.”
“Dude, you’ve got nine seconds.”
Colin carefully lifted the red wire with the scissors and with a single, decisive move cut the wire. “Done.”
“That was close.” Vinnie rested both hands on top of his head, his eyes wide. “Dude, you did it.”
Colin exhaled loudly and slowly. “Actually, you did it, Vin. Thanks.”
“Now get the fuck out of there. Franny already told the old man before I even phoned him. The bomb squad and half of Lisbon’s police are on their way to your location.”
Colin was already moving through the short hallway to the back door. “Jenny? I’m okay, love. I’ll see you soon.”
I couldn’t speak. I was rocking in my chair, sure that I was going to have finger-sized bruises where I was gripping my arms. Only when Colin walked into that horrid, cluttered courtyard did I have enough focus to slow and finally stop my rocking.
He went straight to the filing cabinet and took the canvas bag. “I want to know what the Collector put on their list to steal. Maybe it will give us something we could use.”
“The old man is going to have a fit.” Vinnie chuckled and walked back to his chair.
“Most likely. But I’m just borrowing this for our case. We’ll definitely return them.” He paused again. “Is Jenny okay?”
Vinnie looked at me, his eyes narrowed. “She was rocking the joint, but now she’s good.”
Colin reached our rented SUV and got in. “Armando disappeared on me.”
“Coward.” Vinnie’s top lip curled.
“It is what it is.” Colin started the SUV. “Let’s call it a day. I’ll see you at the hotel.”
Vinnie nodded. “See ya later, alligator.”
