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“MISTER DRYDEN!” TOMAS Broz’s pupils dilated in pleasure and his shoulders relaxed. “Thank you for coming.”
Colin stepped into the interview room and waited for me to be seated before he sat down. He groaned as he lowered himself with effort onto the steel chair.
This time Colin’s deception didn’t distract me as much. I was more interested in the severe change in Tomas’ appearance. His shirt was rumpled, his hair appeared unwashed and uncombed, his nails bitten to the quick. Gone was his nonchalance as well as his easy confidence bordering on arrogance.
The fear he had managed to hide previously—albeit not always with great success—was now on full display. His hands were trembling, his shoulders hunched and his blinking increased. “Will you help me? I need you to help me.”
“What kind of help?” Colin asked quietly, studying Tomas until he shifted in his seat and bit on his thumbnail.
He realised what he was doing and hid both hands under the table. “I want protection. I want to make a deal.”
Colin leaned back in the chair and stared at Tomas for several seconds. “Tell m-me about the phone you had.”
“My lawyer gave it to me. I needed it.” Words tumbled from his mouth. “When I was first arrested, I asked my lawyer to contact my... uh, my friend. This man is able to get all kinds of information.”
“What kind of information?”
Tomas put his elbows on the table and leaned towards Colin. “I needed to know what was happening in my case. When we spoke three days ago, I told you everything I knew. I needed to know more.”
“You’re lying.” I had no trouble discerning those markers, not with his fear hindering his ability to mask his deception.
“Huh?” He blinked a few times, then closed his eyes and slowly shook his head twice. When he looked up, he appeared completely defeated. “I told you almost everything I knew. Since then I learned a few more important things.”
“Why d-don’t you start with what you d-didn’t tell us before?” Colin said.
He opened his mouth, then slammed it shut and shook his head. “No, I want a deal first.” He pointed at his torso. “Look at me. I’m not made for a place like this. I won’t survive in a prison. I don’t know why, but they are still keeping me locked up in a private cell on this floor. It’s not too bad, but I’ve heard talk that they want to transfer me. I won’t make it. I can’t do that.” His fear was genuine as he leaned even closer to Colin. “You have to help me.”
“I d-don’t have the authority to m-make a d-deal with you. Not even the power to negotiate for you.”
“She does.” Tomas looked at me. “I asked my... friend to look into you. He told me that you work for the president of France. That means you have power. You can make a deal for me.”
I didn’t know how to answer. Our work for President Godard was not a secret, but it was not a well-known fact. I didn’t want to confirm what he’d learned. And I definitely couldn’t promise help.
“Why should we help you?” Colin put his hand on my knee, but was looking at Tomas. I exhaled heavily and realised I had been holding my breath. Colin squeezed my knee.
“I know things. Antonin liked to talk. He talked a lot. We’ve been working together for many years. In the last year or two, he’s been telling me a lot about the people he did deals with. I can tell you everything he told me. It will help get a lot of people arrested. The police should love that. Just please get me out of here.”
“Why such a great need to leave?” Colin’s question was quiet and kind.
“He’s going to get to me. I know it.” Tomas nibbled on his thumbnail, then pushed the heels of his hands against his eyes for a moment. “My friend told my lawyer about Doctor Jan Novotný. They don’t know this, but I know Shahab killed him. I know it. And then Shahab made Antonin crazy. My friend says Antonin is in a catatonic state in the hospital. I’m going to be next.”
“How d-do you know Shahab killed D-doctor Novotný?” Colin asked.
“Who else? I’ve heard many stories about Shahab Hatami.” He looked at me again. “Please say you’ll help me. Get me out of here. I’ll disappear. No one will find me.”
“I believe you m-made it easy for the police to catch you with the Sirani,” Colin said. “You evaded capture for years. Why let them catch you and now change your m-mind?”
“I made a mistake.” He shook his head. “I thought the police might catch Shahab quickly and I would be safe in prison.”
“Why did you want Shahab caught?”
“Ant knew.” Tomas swallowed as if his throat was dry. “He knew Shahab was losing his frigging mind. Ant called me last week and said Shahab had been to his gallery and threw stuff around. Ant had been doing business with Shahab for years, but had never seen this crazy side of him. Ant was beyond rattled. He was freaking out and told me I had to make a plan to stay so far below the radar that Shahab could never find me.” He took a deep, shaky breath. “That’s when I decided to phone the police with an anonymous tip about the Sirani.”
Colin lowered his head, his gaze conveying his disbelief. “That’s far too naïve for someone of your intelligence.”
“It was an irrational decision in a moment of great fear,” I said. My theory was immediately confirmed when Tomas jerked and nodded once.
“In all the years I’d known Ant with all the jobs, he’d never, ever been anything but cool and calm. When he phoned me that day, freaking out? It scared me. Really scared me. And now that Doctor Novotný’s dead?” He shuddered. “I have never been so scared in my life. Never.”
Colin narrowed his eyes. “How d-do I know we can trust you?”
“A show of good faith.” Tomas’ expression brightened. “I will tell you everything I know about Shahab—what I knew before and what I’ve learned since. You can follow up on it and if it proves helpful”—he looked at me—“you can negotiate a deal for me. Freedom for a lot of arrests.”
“We can’t promise anything,” Colin said. “Tell m-me you understand that.”
“I understand.” Tomas looked at Colin, some of his confidence returning. “I’ve built my reputation over years of success because I’ve always followed my instincts. I’m extremely good at reading people. And I know that she will do everything she can to help me.”
“Not m-me?” Colin’s lips twitched with a smile.
“No.” He swallowed. “I don’t want to lose the rapport we’ve built, but to be honest, I see something of myself in you. Something I don’t trust.”
Colin’s neutral expression didn’t deny or confirm Tomas’ astute observation. “Tell us what you know about Shahab.”
“Thank you.” Tomas collapsed against the back of his chair in relief. “Okay, you know that I stole Sirani’s Venus and Cupid from the Zeman family house, right?”
“Yes.”
“Do you know if they have it back yet?”
“I d-don’t know. I can ask.”
“Don’t bother. Ant talked to me. When he gave me the job to steal the Sirani, he said that this was for one of his most important suppliers. But something was off with Ant that day. So I asked him what the problem was with that job.” Again he bit his thumbnail. “I should’ve backed out right then. But Ant begged me to get the painting. He said Shahab had been supplying him with art for years. Valuable pieces. And Shahab gave Ant more than double the usual commission.
“Ant didn’t want to work with Shahab and accept the double commission at first, but he’s always been weak when it came to money. He loves it. So he accepted it even though he knew he would have to pay the price for it one day. That day came when Shahab demanded Ant find someone to steal the Sirani.”
“Why that specific painting?”
“Because of who owns it.”
Colin’s eyebrows rose. “The Zemans? Shahab was after them? Whatever for?”
“Ant told me that he sold the Sirani to the Zemans ten years ago. They wanted the painting because Sirani painted it the year before she died. It shows her fine-tuned style, her accomplished technique.”
“The way she used a simple palette of white, red and golds to effectively m-make the scene come to life.” Colin’s pleasure as he talked about this work of art was genuine. “It’s no surprise that in her short life, she stood out in the Bolognese art world, not with her amazing talent and her fresh interpretations of old themes.”
“Exactly. It wasn’t just about owning the Venus and Cupid for the Zemans. It was about the value of the artist, who she was and what she accomplished.”
“Then why d-did Shahab want to take it away from them?” Colin tilted his head. “You had it all these years. Why d-didn’t you give it to Shahab?”
“He was using it to blackmail the Zemans. I don’t know what he wanted from them, but I wasn’t going to let Shahab use this masterpiece as a pawn.” He rubbed the heel of his hand against his chest. “I had a feeling that it would be nothing for Shahab to damage or even destroy the painting just to get what he wanted.”
“And you couldn’t let such an amazing piece of art and piece of history get lost.”
“Or get used in some sick person’s game.”
“Why d-disappear?”
Tomas swallowed. “He told Ant he’d take the painting the week after I’d stolen it. That was when Ant told me what he suspected would happen to the painting. I told Ant I would not stand for it and wouldn’t hand over the art. Ant was horrified. He told me Shahab would kill him.
“So I told him that he could tell Shahab I had absconded with the painting and that once Ant had realised I was gone, he made some enquiries and found out that it was not the first time I did something like that.”
“Is that true?” Colin asked.
“Of course not.” Tomas looked offended. “A man is only as good as his word.”
“I assume Shahab believed Antonin’s story?”
“I contacted Ant two months after the theft. He told me that Shahab was at first angry, but then he thought it was funny. As long as the painting was nowhere near the Zemans, he was happy. But he did tell Ant I was a dead man if he ever found me.”
Colin studied Tomas for a few seconds. “D-did you d-do any more jobs after that?”
“Three.” Tomas blinked. “But I think I shouldn’t say anything else now. Not until you organise a deal for me. And I should maybe phone my lawyer.”
Colin lowered his chin, his expression stern. “If we find out that there is even the smallest d-detail you d-didn’t share about Shahab, I will personally make sure you get no deal.”
“I told you everything.” He looked up and to the left, recalling information. “Yes, I can’t remember anything else to do with Shahab.” His expression turned pleading. “Please help me.”
“Let’s first see what your information gives us.” Colin got up with a groan. “Until then, you m-might want to consult with your lawyer.”
Tomas swallowed and nodded.
I followed Colin out of the interview room. He’d just closed the door when the door of the technical room opened and Manny rushed out.
Colin immediately raised one hand, palm out. “Before you huff and puff, I didn’t make any promises.”
“Bugger off, Frey. I wasn’t going to huff and puff.” He turned to me. “I was going to ask Doctor Face-reader what she thought of all the blarney.”
“If by blarney you mean dishonesty, you are wrong.” I waited until Ivan and Daniel joined us in the hallway. “Tomas Broz’s fear is real and I detected no deception when he spoke to us.”
“Hmm.”
Colin looked at Ivan. “Would you be able to work out a deal with him and his lawyer?”
“The bosses already approved it.” Ivan nodded. “They’re very pleased with the good PR it will give the department if there are such high-profile arrests.”
I pointed at his face. “There is something about your bosses that is causing you great concern.”
“Not here.” Ivan nodded upwards, his eyes not making contact with the security cameras.
Manny was staring at Ivan. Usually, he would have a caustic remark, but now I observed empathy. He understood the intricacies of interdepartmental politics within law enforcement agencies. He’d even once admitted that the backstabbing and pettiness was the reason he would never go back to that line of work. And why he preferred working with a group of pseudo-criminals. That had elicited a loud and prolonged response.
Manny gave a curt nod. “Let’s visit the Zeman couple and find out why Shahab targeted them specifically.”
“They’re not answering their phones.” Ivan lifted the smartphone in his hand. “But I got a patrol car to drive past their house. They saw the security shutters open, so the Zemans are at home.”
Ivan’s concern about his superiors and the information that he’d been withholding from us was becoming of greater interest to me. And concern. As soon as we finished speaking to the Zeman couple, I was going to confront him. We needed to know what he knew.
The drive to the exclusive area just west of the Old Town took us twenty-three minutes due to heavy traffic this time of the morning. The street we were in was unlike the affluent area where Karel Maslák lived. These properties had higher walls, larger areas with sprawling lawns surrounding houses that could easily be defined as mansions.
We slowed down and followed Ivan into the driveway of a house that looked like a grand country manor. From the street most of its glory was hidden, but as we followed the driveway around the side of the house, my appreciation grew. The mature garden at the back of the house flowed into a public park, separated by a palisade fence. All the ground-floor windows were large, looking out over the garden and the old Brevnov Quarter in the distance. The mansion had two long wings to the sides and a round central section with glass doors leading to a beautiful patio.
We parked in the circular driveway. Daniel, Ivan and Manny got out, both Manny and Daniel holding up their hands towards us. Colin opened his window when Manny stepped closer to our vehicle.
“Something is off here.” Manny was looking at the patio door. “The gate is open and one patio door is ajar. We’re going to clear the house first, then you can come in.”
“Should I phone Vin?” Colin reached for his smartphone.
“Not yet.” Manny slapped lightly on the SUV’s roof. “Sit tight.”
Manny walked away, taking his handgun from its holster. Ivan and Daniel were flanking the patio door, weapons in their hands. Manny stopped behind Daniel and tapped his shoulder. Ivan pushed the door wider and they disappeared into the house.
I crossed my arms. “Phone Vinnie.”
“Yeah, I think so too. Millard can shout at me later.” Colin made a quick call while I stared at the front door until my eyes felt dry from not blinking.
I looked away for a second to regain control over the panic building in my mind. Colin ended the call and nodded at me. “Vin’s on his way.”
Just then Daniel appeared on the patio and waved us over. We walked up the wide wooden pathway leading to the patio and the elegant furniture carefully arranged to make most of the view. If all the French doors to the patio were to be open, it would create a feeling that the garden flowed into the house.
Daniel stepped away from the door and walked towards the impressive staircase by the front door. “Manny wants you upstairs.”
Cold dread entered my mind when I registered his expression. “They’re dead.”
Daniel nodded. “But it’s not Shahab’s usual MO. There’s no torture or blood.”
Colin and I walked past the dining room with a table that could easily seat twelve guests. To our right was the living area with large paintings on the walls, Persian rugs on the floor and exclusive furniture creating an entertainment area both warm and luxurious.
The stairs were on our right, sweeping to the top in a half-circle. The wall forming the right-hand side of the staircase was covered in art. Colin uttered a sound of surprise and stopped in front of a colourful portrait of an easily identifiable woman. “This is a Kahlo.” He looked at the painting next to it. “Huh. This is a Cassatt. And the next one is a Fontana.”
“What does that mean?” Manny asked from the top of the stairs.
Colin took a moment to look at all the paintings on the wall. “Wow. These are all masterpieces by female artists.” One by one he pointed them out. “Frida Kahlo was known for self-portraits. Mary Cassatt was an American who moved to France in her adulthood and became close friends with Edgar Degas. She was known for her works depicting the social and private lives of women and had exhibitions among the masters of impressionism.
“Lavinia Fontana was an Italian artist who died twenty-four years before Elisabetta Sirani was born. But they lived and painted in the same era and Fontana is said to be the first female artist to have painted female nudes and possibly used live nude female models. She had quite a lot in common with Sirani. Or Sirani with her, depending on how you look at it.”
“Hmph.” Manny shook his head. “You two better come and look at this.”
I didn’t want to. But my desire to stop Shahab killing more people was stronger than my revulsion at seeing more dead bodies. I followed the men up the stairs and down a wide hallway. The décor was elegant and no effort had been made to disguise the wealth displayed on every wall, in the furniture and ornaments. Colin’s eyebrows kept shooting up as he passed more artworks and sculptures.
“They’re in here.” Manny walked into the room at the end of the hallway. The open double doors revealed a king-size bed, antique nightstands, a Victorian-era chaise longue and paintings that made the walls look like a gallery exhibition. There was only one painting above the bed.
It was easy to identify Elisabetta Sirani’s Venus and Cupid.
A lavish and sophisticated Venus was looking into the room, her right hand pointing towards a cupid whose micro-expressions were hard for me to reconcile. They vacillated between playful mischief and deep concern. In the background two arrows were lodged in a tree, a quiver with more arrows resting on Cupid’s hip. The bright, warm colours brought the scene to life.
It was beautiful.
I kept staring at Cupid’s face, trying to understand which emotion Elisabetta Sirani had tried to convey. Looking anywhere else was going to draw my eyes to where Ivan, Daniel and Manny were looking at the floor. Colin took my hand, interlaced our fingers and tightened his grip. “Want to leave?”
“No.” I inhaled deeply and started mentally playing Mozart’s Violin Sonata No. 18 in G Major. After the first two lines of the Allegro con Spirito, I looked away from the painting and stepped deeper into the room.
On each side of the bedside tables were large windows with views of the landscaped garden. The window on the right looked badly damaged, cracks marring it and the wooden frame broken in places. Under the window were two bodies.
“This is Marta Zemanová and Radek Zeman.” Ivan was on his haunches, taking care not to touch anything, but trying to see as much as possible. “I’m no expert, but I’ve seen enough overdose victims to think that is not what killed them.”
The woman was a bit overweight, her features softened by the extra few kilograms. A scattering of freckles on her rounded cheeks provided evidence of time in the sun, wrinkles around her eyes evidence of laughter. But in death her eyes were stretched wide open, her gaze empty. The man had the same expression on his handsome face.
But what distressed me most was their position. Marta was lying in Radek’s arms, her head resting on his chest, her hand fallen to the side of his face as if she’d been touching his cheek. Radek’s left arm had fallen to his side, but his right arm was still around Marta, his eyes staring unseeing to the ceiling, tracks of tears dried on their faces.
Daniel walked around to Marta, leaned over and studied her face. “I don’t see any of that foamy stuff around their mouths. That is what is usual with opioid deaths. The petechiae around their eyes and their blue fingernails show a lack of oxygen, but that can also be due to opioids.”
“That’s what I’m thinking too, but we will have to wait for the ME to give us a real cause of death.” Ivan got up and looked around. “How did they suffocate to death?”
“And why does it look like they tried to break out?” Colin pointed at the damaged window.
“What the bleeding hell happened here?” Manny stepped away from the bodies and looked around the room. He took his smartphone from his trouser pocket and swiped the screen. Ringing sounded through the phone.
“Hey, sexy.” Francine sounded distracted.
“You’re on speaker, woman.” Manny stared hard at his phone. “We found the Zemans.” His tone softened. “They’re dead. What did you find out about them?”
“Oh, no. That’s so sad. I researched them as soon as you told me, but I’ve only had twenty-five minutes.” It sounded like she was typing on her laptop. “Okay, what I have so far: The Zemans are the ninth richest couple in Czech. An interesting Czech language titbit is that Marta’s surname changed to Zemanová, the female version of Zeman. Anyhoo, their wealth comes from construction. It seems like Marta got lucky when she invested in a project through her first job. They had been married for six years by then and had just a small bit of savings, but she put everything in it.
“Eight years later, they got their first payout of hundreds of thousands. Radek used half of that to start his construction company and within fifteen years they were number fifty on the rich list. He sold his construction company ten years ago and invested heavily in a tech start-up. In a recent article, they boasted that their home was almost completely a smart home. They have AI for all their appliances and... the list is long, so I’m just going to say you are standing in one of the most technologically advanced homes in Prague.
“A few interesting titbits I found: They don’t have separate finances, even though Marta said in an interview they had both been advised to change this many times by their lawyers and financial advisers. They liked being connected in all ways.
“They have one daughter who took after her mother. Ooh, I forgot to be more chronological. Sorry, Genevieve. To backtrack, once they made their fifth million, Marta stopped working altogether and devoted herself completely to charities that focused on women’s causes. It’s estimated that the Zemans have donated around twenty million euros over the years to these foundations.
“Their daughter Natálie did her degree in some kind of women’s studies and immediately got a job with an NGO, her work connected with CEDAW—that’s the UN’s Committee on the Elimination of Discrimination against Women. She’s now thirty-one and is still working for them. And here’s where it gets really, really interesting. Natálie has done a lot of work with Iranian women. She’s part of a team that hel—”
“Francine?” Manny shook his phone after a second of silence. “What the hell? Hello?”
The call had been terminated. No sooner had I realised this than the security shutters closed with an alarming speed. All the windows in the bedroom were secured within four seconds, dumping the room in dark shadows.
“What’s happening?” Ivan took his weapon from its holster and looked at Daniel.
“I locked all the doors before we came upstairs.” He also unholstered his weapon.
“We cleared the house.” Manny walked to the bedroom door and pressed the light switch. Nothing happened.
A hissing sound had all of us turning to the air vents. Colin took a step back. He looked at the vents, then walked closer and held his hand in front of one. “That’s not good.”
“Frey?”
“I’ve only seen this in art preservation rooms in museums and galleries.” Colin walked back and took my hand. “If this is what I think it is, the shutters have made the house airtight and these vents are sucking out the oxygen. In museums and galleries, this is used in case of fire. These systems are extremely sophisticated and will never be triggered if they register human presence.”
Daniel walked towards the door. “We need to split up and find a way to stop this.”
“I don’t know if that’s the best use of time.” Colin looked at the air vents. “We might need Francine when we find the panel to the system. It might be better to find a weak window and break it open to allow air in.”
“That’s most likely what they were doing.” Ivan pointed at the Zeman couple, then at the air vents. “And this is most likely what killed them.”
“Bloody hell.” Manny also took his gun out of its holster. “Frey, you and Doc come with me since you don’t have weapons. Dan, you take this floor. Ivan and I will do the ground floor.”
Daniel nodded and left the room. Ivan followed us out the bedroom and down the stairs. The whole house was in dark shadows as if it were dusk and not seventeen minutes to nine in the morning. There was still enough light to find our way around, but I didn’t feel comfortable not being able to see clearly.
On the ground floor, Ivan went to the rooms on the left and we went right. Manny went into each room first, his posture alert and ready to act, his weapon held out in front of him. The first room we entered was an office. There was nobody and the two windows were locked and impossible to open.
Instead of spending more energy here, we went into the next room and then the next. By the time we’d circled back to the front door, I was feeling weak. My breathing was becoming shallow and it felt like I had been on an exceptionally long morning run.
“I found nothing upstairs.” Daniel slipped on the last step, but steadied himself. “And I’m feeling the lack of oxygen.”
“Me too.” Ivan joined us.
Daniel and Ivan tried, but they couldn’t unlock the front door and decided not to waste any more time on it. Ivan shook his head. “Everything is tightly locked.”
“Not this window.” Colin pointed at a long, narrow window to the left of the front door. The shutter appeared to have stopped five centimetres above the ground, light from the lower part reflecting on the tiled floor.
“Stand back.” Ivan aimed his weapon at the window. He glanced at us and frowned. “No, even further back. Get behind the wall.”
He waited until we were out of sight. The loud report of a gunshot rang through the house. Darkness entered my peripheral vision and I didn’t know whether it was from a looming shutdown or the lack of breathable air. Or both.
“Fuck!” The anger was easy to hear in Ivan’s voice. We stepped back into the entrance to see Ivan pressing his hand against his left upper arm.
“Bloody hell, man.” Manny rushed forward and took Ivan by the shoulders. “Did you shoot yourself?”
Ivan burst out laughing. “Seems so.” He lifted his hand to reveal a tear in his jacket and blood seeping through.
Manny leaned in closer. “Looks superficial.”
“Yeah, it wasn’t the bullet that got me. It was the ricochet off the wood it hit.” He pointed at the damaged, but unbroken window. “These windows are bulletproof.”
“Oh, man.” Daniel sat down on the floor. “I’m not feeling so good.”
“Makes two of us.” The light coming from the narrow window highlighted Ivan’s pallor. He was looking even paler than a minute ago.
Slight tremors started shaking my body and light-headedness overwhelmed me. I looked down at the ground, trying to slow my breathing. It didn’t help. My lungs were gasping for more air.
Colin’s grip on my hand loosened and he joined Daniel and Ivan on the ground. He looked up at me. “I can’t any more, love.”
“Holy hell.” The desperate look on Manny’s face as he took us in sent even more darkness into my peripheral vision. “We’re not going to bloody, fucking die here.”
I blinked and found myself sitting on the floor next to Colin. He was cradling me against his side. “We’re still here, love. Millard is going to swear us out of this bloody place.”
“Bugger off, Frey.” Manny was swiping on his smartphone screen.
I blinked again and found Colin lying on the floor next to me. His eyes were still open, but he was gasping. Manny was sitting on the floor, still swiping his phone screen, his actions no longer coordinated. Daniel and Ivan were both unconscious. Tears formed in my eyes as I fought against the blackness trying to take me away. I didn’t want to die. And definitely not like this.
Manny jerked when there was loud banging on the door. I concentrated to hear what was happening, but everything was fading. The banging stopped, but someone was shouting a lot of obscenities and something about moving away from the front door.
“Doc.” Manny sounded completely out of breath. “We’ve got to move.”
He crawled on the floor and pushed Ivan towards the stairs. His arm slipped out from under him and he fell flat on the floor. He pushed himself up and pushed Ivan even further away. “Doc! Get your lazy arse moving and get Frey away from the front door.”
Colin’s eyes were closed, but he was still breathing. Barely. Manny was now pushing Daniel’s legs with weak movements. I forced myself to my knees and pulled Colin’s legs towards the room on our left. It felt like I was trying to move a building.
I heaved again and his legs slid on the tiled floors. It took all my strength and felt like hours, but I managed to move him two metres. Sweating profusely and gasping for air, I collapsed on top of Colin just as I heard a loud crash at the front door.
I gave myself over to the darkness.
