A Thief Revealed, page 10
Neither picture looked like the Lola I was starting to know. She was magnificent at disguising herself with makeup, wigs, accents. As Kristina, her makeup gave her the appearance of fair skin, with pink blush and pale tones on her eyelids. Her eyelashes and brows were lighter, too. And in the picture from last night, her eyebrows and eyelashes were thick and black to match a different wig, and she wore so much eyeliner that no one was going to mistake her for Schaeffler. But between the two photos, the message was clear: Tapout999 knew the woman he was looking for wore disguises.
“Who are you?” I said aloud. Who was this person who had a hundred thousand pounds to flash around in exchange for information?
Then I had an idea. If this man was after Kristina, I would give him information—but only if he met me face-to-face.
I began typing. Meet me in King’s Cross Station. Eurostar champagne bar. Seven p.m. I’ll be wearing a red cap. Will have info re: K. Schaeffler.
If he agreed to meet, he was an idiot, but it was worth a shot.
I was still staring at the computer when my doorbell sounded. After pressing a few keystrokes on my keyboard, Lola’s picture popped up on my screen, standing outside my door. She was wearing a short trench coat over a black turtleneck, a short black skirt, black ankle boots, and the same black wig she’d worn the night before. She liked black. Or at least this persona liked black. She looked very cosmopolitan.
I pressed another button. “You came back,” I tried to hide my relief.
She looked up, searching for the camera, which was well hidden. Not finding it, she held up a white paper bag. “I brought food.”
“In that case, come on in.” I pressed a couple of keys to unlock the door.
I walked down the hallway to meet her.
She set the bag on the kitchen counter and dropped a black backpack on the floor. The backpack was heavy duty, made to hold equipment. I knew because I owned one just like it and used it to carry around surveillance equipment.
I still hadn’t said anything when she turned to me. “Sorry I left without saying anything.”
I shrugged. “I’m not your keeper.”
“No, but it was rude of me, and I’m sorry.”
She was an enigma. On one hand, she was a thief—a professional criminal. But on the other, she often spoke softly, seemed shy even. Then again, when I first met her in Paris at the bar with Arias, she’d had no problem standing up for herself. And she certainly hadn’t appeared shy when we danced at the Cavern.
I crossed my arms and leaned against the kitchen counter. “I will say, it’s much easier to protect someone’s life when I’m with them, or at least know where they’re going.”
“I had somewhere I needed to go alone.” Her confidence was back.
“Clearly.” I pointed at the backpack. “What’s in the bag?”
She twisted her hands in front of her stomach. She was nervous. It was cute.
“Look, Dimitri.” Her eyes met mine. “I appreciated the place to stay last night, but I’ve been thinking that maybe it’s better that we don’t work together.”
“Is that why you brought lunch? Because you wanted to back out of our agreement.” I walked over to the white bag and peeked inside. Saw what looked like sandwiches wrapped up in white paper.
“I brought lunch because I wanted to say thank you. Thank you for the place to stay and for helping me escape Viscount’s last night. I realize I probably owe you a lot more than a sandwich, but…”
“Bollocks! You don’t owe me food. You owe me information. It’s bloody well in your best interest to help me complete my assignment without having to turn you over to the earl of Somerset.” And dammit if I didn’t feel the need to save her from the danger she was in.
She flinched at my harsh words, then squared her shoulders. Her narrowed eyes looked determined. “You and I are not a team. We have very different objectives.”
“And what is your objective? To steal priceless paintings?”
She cocked her head. “Why did you say that?”
“I hacked into your computer last night. You don’t have very good security.”
She threw her head back and laughed.
“What’s so damn funny?”
“You are. And you’re unbelievably predictable. You found exactly what I wanted you to find. I’m only surprised that you admitted to breaking into my computer so quickly. I hadn’t expected that.”
Now I was curious. “What do you mean?”
“You think I don’t do my homework? I might not be a master hacker, but I did my research into the great Dimitri Tobias.”
Now she was taunting me. “And you found nothing,” I said. I spent time every day making sure there was no information about my true identity on the internet.
Her smile faded. “Don’t underestimate me, Dimitri.” She spoke as if she was issuing a challenge.
“What did you find?”
“Interpol has you on a list of contract intelligence officers to use as a last resort. They say you’re not to be trusted because you have no sense of loyalty.”
I rubbed a hand across the stubble on my jaw. I knew that the list existed. It was one of the only things accessible on the dark web that I’d had to take down multiple times. Someone out there kept circulating it. It was the reason I used different aliases to own property and move about the world. What I found most funny about that reputation was that I was always in high demand. Some of the wealthiest people in the world hired me to work on their security team, and even Interpol hired me from time to time. I was desirable because I was that good at what I did. And I wasn’t limited by government bureaucracy.
“So what? You want me to believe that you set a trap for me?” I asked.
“Yes. And you fell right into it. You really think I would leave my plans to steal paintings in a place for you to find so easily?” She took a glass from one of my cabinets and got some water from the tap. “Not to mention that no one knows if the auction will even still take place now that the family is dealing with the death of Lady Sarah.”
“So you’re not planning on stealing a painting from Viscount.”
She turned and lifted a finger as she took a drink of water. “I didn’t say that.”
Of course she hadn’t. “Okay, so now what? If you knew I was going to betray you, why did you come back?”
“I still need to know who killed Sarah. I need to know if that person is going to come after me.”
I thought about the messages I had uncovered. She needed to know that the threat against her was real. “I thought you didn’t want to work with me any longer.”
She angled her head. “I didn’t say I didn’t want to. Only that I thought it might be better if we didn’t. We’re a risk to each other.”
“Why don’t you let me worry about what risks I’m willing to accept?” I was finding the woman standing in front of me worth whatever risk I had to take on. “Besides, you need me. I’ve been surveilling the killer online. He’s not exactly hiding.”
“Don’t you find that strange?”
“It’s definitely arrogant. Or stupid. So far, I haven’t uncovered his identity. Unfortunately, he’s fishing for information about you, and he’s getting closer. He posted photographs of Kristina Schaeffler. And he’s got money to dangle.”
“Posted pictures? Where?”
“Grab the sandwiches and follow me.”
I logged into the dark web chat room where I’d found Sarah’s killer. “I’ve encountered this person twice now: once looking for information about the diamond, and now looking for information on a blond female thief. I decided I would lure him to a crowded place and see if I recognized him. If he’s stupid enough to show.”
“You did what?” Lola leaned over the desk to examine my computer. As she did, I got a whiff of her intoxicating scent. She backed away and began pacing. “Are you insane?”
I was definitely crazy for becoming interested in her, which was obviously not what she was asking. And now was probably not a good time to tell her all the reasons why some cowardly killer didn’t scare me as much as falling for her did. “No. I have a plan.” I glanced back at the computer, pointing a finger at the response to my earlier query. “And look, it’s falling into place.”
Tapout999 had agreed to the meeting.
“You really think he’ll show?” Lola asked.
“Never underestimate the stupidity of people. But what I would like to do first is come up with a list of possible suspects that were present at both parties.”
Lola lifted a finger. “I think I can help with that.” She left the room and returned moments later with her laptop. “I have a complete guest list for both parties, and I’ve already cross-referenced them.”
She sat the laptop in front of me. On it was a spreadsheet with two guest lists. Lines were drawn between several names, and those names were highlighted in hot pink. There were other colors on the spreadsheet: blue, green, purple, and yellow. She’d also made notes beside each name that didn’t make sense to me.
“What are these notes?” I asked.
“Those don’t matter. What you want are these names.” She pointed to a list. “Ten people were at both events, six if you exclude the catering staff. If you click on their names, it will take you to a photograph.”
I looked up at her. “How do you already have all this? I asked Interpol for this last night, and I still haven’t heard back from them.”
She shrugged. “I do my homework before every job. I already had the lists. I always study up on who’s likely to attend the events I go to. I don’t like surprises. And when we got here last night, I just organized a few things.”
I studied the faces of the ten guests she’d highlighted. “Where did you get photographs of these people?”
“Again, stop underestimating me.”
Fine. “So… which of these people are capable of murder?”
She stiffened. “How am I supposed to know? The idea that anyone is capable of that is lost on me.”
The question had been rhetorical. I turned in my desk chair, my knees knocked against hers, and I smiled up at her. “You surprise me, Lola.” Was she trying to convince me that she was naïve to the ugliness of this world?
“Why? You think because I’m a thief, I shouldn’t be surprised that someone would kill over a stupid diamond?” She crossed her arms. “Let’s just focus on who might have done this. You don’t have to like me to do your job.”
I stood and grabbed her shoulders. “You misunderstand me. I wasn’t trying to insult you.” Though her defensiveness was cute.
She tried to pull away, but I held her in place. When her head tilted backward, I stared down into her eyes, letting my gaze drift to her lips. She had definitely misunderstood me. “I’m happy to explain myself, but what I really want to do is kiss you.”
Her breathing picked up, and her gaze drifted toward my mouth. She wanted my lips on hers; I was not misreading the signals.
But just as I was about to find out how Lola Parks tasted, she pulled back and turned from me. “We can’t do this.”
“It’s just a kiss, Lola. Well, it was about to be.”
She turned back to me. “I know. But I think I gave you the wrong impression of me.”
I angled my head. “And what impression was that?”
“That I’m some immoral thief who—”
I closed the distance and placed a hand over her mouth. “Stop. I am not someone who should ever judge you. Like I said, you misunderstood.” Her eyes blinked up at me, but I didn’t remove my hand. “You surprise me in good ways. I know you have your reasons for doing what you do. I know they’re complicated, and for some reason that I can’t explain, I hope that you’ll share them with me someday. But I am the last person who will judge you for it.”
What was I saying? What “someday” was I talking about? The way I was talking, you’d think I was a long-term-relationship kind of person, when all I really wanted was to take Lola Parks to bed so that we could move on with finding the killer.
She didn’t speak. Just stared at me.
“Look,” I said, sitting back down at my desk. “Why don’t you tell me what interaction you had with the people on your list.”
She turned to her computer. Just like that, she was back to business. “I can’t say I had interactions with any of them. Except Sam.” She pointed to Sam’s name. “Sarah flirted with him the first night, and Viscount introduced me to him last night.”
I studied Sam harder. He looked vaguely familiar. Maybe I’d seen him at the parties. “Can you tell me anything more about him?”
“Nothing other than I found him to be creepy. I used him as my alibi when you told me to return to the party. I would have left with him had the police not gotten there so fast.”
I turned to her. “You would have left with him? And gone where?”
She lifted a brow. “Not back to his place, if that’s what you’re insinuating.”
I stared at Sam’s picture again, wondering if I had sent her directly to a killer. “What about Reynard?” I asked.
“What about him?”
“Is he capable of murder?”
She didn’t even think about it. “Probably. But whoever killed Sarah presumably went to her in search of information about who really stole her ring. And Reynard already knew it was me.”
“Good point. Did you know anyone else at either of the parties?”
“I’ve seen some of the people before. The world of socialites and wealthy people who attend galas and art shows isn’t as large as you would think. I attend these see-and-be-seen parties all over Europe.”
“To steal jewels and art?” I tried to imagine the many looks and identities she’d perfected over the years.
She narrowed her gaze. “I do what I have to do.”
I didn’t press for more info. “Well, one of these people is Sarah’s killer. And now they’re coming after you.”
She seemed uneasy at that thought, and I resisted the urge to rub warmth into her arms. “You think this person you made contact with will show tonight? Why would he?”
“Because desperate people do desperate things.” I probably didn’t have to tell her that. “I mean… Why are you still planning to steal Viscount’s painting? Even after the police, Interpol, and a murderer are all hunting you?”
Lola looked at the computer, thought about the question. “Because it’s the job I was told to do. The consequences of failing aren’t something I’m willing to accept.”
I was curious what those consequences were. I’d seen the way Reynard touched her the other night, and the way he looked at her last night. This man had way more control over her than I was comfortable with. But it proved my point. She had a certain desperation about her that made her do the jobs she did for Reynard.
“Exactly,” I said. “This person was hired to acquire that diamond. He needed it badly enough to cut off a finger. You prevented him from succeeding. And now a woman is dead.”
She walked around my desk and over to the door leading out to the courtyard. “What time are you supposed to meet this guy?”
“Seven p.m.”
“I’ll go with you.”
“The hell you will.”
She whipped around. “Did you forget what we talked about? You are not my keeper.”
“Look, I get it. We just met. You don’t trust me. But there’s no fucking way I’m letting you walk into a place to meet up with someone who might want you dead.”
“I wouldn’t be going as Kristina Schaeffler.”
“I don’t care if you’d be going as Queen Elizabeth.”
Chapter Eighteen
Dimitri
I positioned myself outside the St. Pancras Champagne Bar by Searcys to watch Kate, the young American woman I’d hired to wear a red cap and sit at the counter. She definitely stuck out, because most people didn’t wear casual hats to drink £65-a-bottle champagne. I’d attached a tiny microphone to her hair that wasn’t visible to the naked eye. I would hear anything said in her vicinity.
I wore a disguise so that whoever showed up didn’t recognize me. I had been present both nights at Viscount’s house, and it was no secret that I was connected to the Somersets. If this murderer saw me and knew who I was, he’d bolt.
When a man approached Kate, I straightened. He was wearing a raincoat, his hair was wet from having walked in the rain, and he wore a scarf.
He placed a hand on the counter and leaned in to her. “May I buy the pretty lady a drink?”
She looked up at him. “Why?” She lifted the glass. “I already have one.”
He smiled. “Then may I join you?”
“I’m meeting someone. Thanks anyway.” She turned to put the back of her head in his face.
I studied the man. I didn’t recognize him. Was this just some sorry playboy trying to pick up what he thought was a naïve tourist? Kate was far from that. “Move along,” I whispered softly to myself.
Mr. Scarf shook his head as if in disbelief that he’d just been turned down, then walked over to another woman drinking alone.
“What a creep show,” Kate said softly so that I could hear it.
I watched Mr. Scarf as he sat beside the second woman. A server arrived and poured champagne for both of them. Mr. Scarf slipped the server something, and nodded toward Kate. The server looked from Mr. Scarf to Kate, then nodded in understanding.
Something wasn’t right. The server went to Kate and handed her whatever Mr. Scarf had given him. She looked down at it, unfolded a small piece of paper, then looked up at the server.
“What’s it say, Kate?” I whispered.
