Shattered Mirror (Eve Duncan #23)(37)

“There are too many he’s and him’s in this conversation. A name, Napier.”

He was silent.

Go in another direction. “And where is your wife now, Napier?”

He didn’t speak.

“Where?”

“How do I know?” He burst out. “She was pissed off that I’d gotten us both into trouble, and she didn’t want to see me again. I was surprised that she was even willing to do it. She must have been really scared. She hated my gambling. The bitch never understood me. She told me that once she’d delivered Sylvie, that she was going to have to think of a way to deal with Darcy until she got the kid back.” His lips twisted. “And she said my free ride was over and to expect divorce papers within a few months.”

“And where was she supposed to go to deliver Sylvie?”

“After we picked up Sylvie at the sanitarium, Felicity was to drive into the hills to Paillon, a little town near the coast, and turn her over. I guess that’s what she did.”

“Guess? Not good enough. And I need a name.”

“I can’t.” His face was white. “Look, he’s left me alone just like he said he would after we gave him Sylvie. He even gave me a little bonus for cooperating. But I know if I talk, I’ll be a dead man.”

“If you don’t talk, you’ll be a dead man,” Jock said quietly. “I’m leaning that way anyway. You’re wasting my time, Napier.”

“Take my money,” Napier said desperately. “Maybe I can get you more if you let me go.”

“I want a name. I want to know everything you know.”

“I can’t tell you.”

“Can’t? You’ll be surprised how easy it is,” Jock said. “I don’t usually deal in torture. My training was in ending life, not extending it to agonizing lengths. That doesn’t mean I’m not very competent at it. So you’d be wise to terminate this interview to my satisfaction.”

“Take the money,” Napier repeated desperately.

Jock sighed. “You’re very stupid, Napier. Though to tell you the truth, your decision is very satisfying to me. It just doesn’t meet my goals.”

He reached and delicately stroked Napier’s throat. “It’s amazing how much pain can be inflicted in these muscles without actually killing…”

Napier whimpered, then began to groan.





LAKE COTTAGE


“The man who was behind Sylvie Jordan being taken from that sanitarium was Jacques Manard,” Jock said when Joe Quinn picked up the phone. “He’s a big-time bookie and gambling kingpin who controls a hell of a lot of the action along the Riviera. Napier owed him a bundle, and he jumped at the chance of getting out from under before he was tossed into the Mediterranean. But Napier had to have his wife cooperate to get Sylvie released, so he had to involve Felicity.”

“Why the hell would Manard want Sylvie Jordan?”

“Napier didn’t know or care. He’d told Manard the situation about Sylvie and her twin. He thought it might be kidnapping, or just a way to force Felicity into turning any money Darcy earned over to him.”

“Too complex. And no ransom was ever asked. There was just the skull…”

“And what would a big-time gambling czar be doing sending a skull to Eve?”

“Why don’t you ask him?” Joe suggested. “Politely, of course. And if that doesn’t work, call me. I’ll be glad to fly over there and deal with him in a less than polite manner. I don’t like the idea of having Eve and Michael being exposed to that kind of shit on my own turf.”

“Presently. Right now I’m on my way to Paillon, the little town where Darcy’s mother was supposed to have turned Sylvie over to Manard. It’s fairly close, and I want to check out why he chose that town to meet, then try to get information where she went from there. Then I’ll go to Manard’s beach house and tell him that you wanted politeness at all costs. But it wasn’t Jacques Manard who left that fingerprint at the Carnegie residence. Can you see if there’s a connection between Manard and Norwalk?”

“I’ll get on it. But I told you that he usually limited his operations to England and Ireland.” He paused. “You’re thinking that perhaps the target is Darcy?”

“I don’t know what I’m thinking. Check and see if Manard has any connection with Kaskov. None of it makes sense yet.”

“If it makes a difference, Kaskov told Cara that he had nothing to do with that attack on her.”

“Told her?”

“He called her tonight and said he thought she should come to him earlier than scheduled.”

Jock was muttering curses. “Son of a bitch. What else?”

“Only that he knew you were on your way to Nice. And that he was keeping an eye on her here.” He added dryly, “He’s evidently filled with grandfatherly concern. Touching.”

“Keep him away from her.”

“She won’t go anywhere without telling me,” Joe said. “Right now, she’s just worried about Darcy.” He added grimly, “And I’m worried about whether I’ll end up killing one of Kaskov’s men trespassing on my property.”

“Dammit, I need to get back there.” With an effort, he smothered the anger and exasperation. “I’ll call you after I’ve had my chat with Manard.”