The Take(45)

In between was everything from A to Z.

Simon found nothing that indicated Delacroix’s involvement in the robbery—no mention, for example, that it was he who had suggested that the prince alter his route—but plenty of background to hint at the close relationship between the two men. It was evident that Prince Abdul Aziz trusted Delacroix absolutely.

The phone rang. He checked the screen. “Hello there, young lady,” Simon answered pleasantly. “How are things?”

“Fine,” said Lucy Brown.

“Just called the shop. Harry said you were MIA.”

“MIA…what’s that?”

“Missing in action. You sick?”

“You checking up on me?”

“As a matter of fact, I am.”

“Fuck off, then. I can take care of myself.”

“You sound like you’re fighting a pretty good hangover.”

“Maybe I am.”

Simon took a breath, wondering how to play this. Like Harry Mason had said, he wasn’t her dad. He was her boss. A concerned boss, but that was as far as it went. “You coming in tomorrow?”

“Yeah.”

“You’re sure?”

“Look, Simon, it was my friend’s birthday last night. We were out at the pub. It was the first time I’ve been able to buy a round in a long time. It felt good to show off a bit. Anything wrong with that?”

“No, Lucy. There’s nothing wrong with that. But next time, do it over the weekend. And if you’re going to miss work, call in. Harry was worried sick about you.”

“Harry?” asked Lucy. “Bullocks!” And they both laughed. “How’s Paris?”

“Paris is Paris.”

“You promised to take me one day.”

“Just show up for work tomorrow. Goodbye, Lucy.”

Simon finished his sandwich and went back to the laptop. He concentrated on Delacroix’s emails. Again, he found nothing about the robbery. Nowhere was there a mention of a connection to Coluzzi—no emails and no texts. But Simon hadn’t expected to find anything. He figured Delacroix to be a smart operator. He knew better than to leave a digital trail of crumbs.

Simon continued on his hunt, nosing through Delacroix’s apps. He found the treasure buried in one named “Notes,” within a subfile with the prince’s name. The breadth of the information confirmed his impression that Delacroix enjoyed the prince’s full trust, and amplified his disgust at Delacroix’s subsequent betrayal of it. Among the information listed was the prince’s passport number, his date of birth, nine credit card numbers along with corresponding security codes, and multiple phone numbers with telecom companies.

“Something else for you?” asked the waiter.

Simon glanced up from the laptop. “Just the bill.”

His phone rang again. He didn’t recognize the number. “Hello?”

“I’ll be at Julien’s in fifteen minutes,” said Nikki Perez. “I can’t stay long.”

“I’ll be there.”

Simon slipped his laptop into his shoulder bag and stood, leaving a fifty-euro note on the table.

It was the waiter’s lucky day.





Chapter 24



So here’s the tough guy.”

Alexei Ren stood in front of Coluzzi, staring down at him. An hour had passed since the match ended. Coluzzi had passed the time doing shots of vodka, hoping they’d kill the pain in his ribs. They hadn’t, and now he was half in the bag. “Have a seat. Your boat.”

“You owe me two security men.”

“Is that what you call them?”

“One has a fractured wrist. The other won’t be walking for a few days.”

“Send me the bill.”

Ren studied him. “You know,” he said, unbuttoning his collar and rolling up his sleeves, “I’m actually glad to see you.”

“Your boys let me know,” said Coluzzi. “Thrilled.”

“You remind me of how things used to be.”

“That right?”

“When things were a little tougher and a man had to know how to look out for himself.” Ren picked up the vodka. “Can I pour you another?”

“Better not,” said Coluzzi. “Just in case you want to let me know how glad you are to see me again.”

Ren poured himself a shot and Coluzzi saw that Jojo hadn’t been lying. Ren’s arms and chest were covered with a latticework of inked art.

“Nastrovje,” said Ren, raising his glass and downing the vodka. “Did you see the game? Almost had them, but they were too strong in the end.”

“You need a new fullback.”

“We need two, but we can’t afford them at the moment. It’s a principle of mine that all my businesses pay for themselves.”

“Good idea.”

“Only way,” said Ren, falling into a low-backed chair. “Otherwise you find yourself throwing good money after bad.”

He poured them both another shot. “I admit it was a surprise hearing from a friend of Jojo’s. We go back quite some time. If you’d been a bit more discreet, I wouldn’t have had to make my boys teach you a lesson.”

“Sure you would have.”