The Take(61)

“Long enough.”

A small group stood outside the bar, watching them. A man ran inside, sounding the alarm.

“Let’s go,” said Nikki. “Now.”

She ran down the alley toward the Rue des Rosiers.

Simon ran after her.



“What was that back there?”

Nikki was bent at the waist, hands on her thighs, catching her breath after the mad dash from Le Galleon Rouge.

“What?”

“Those moves. I thought you were going to kill him.”

“Nothing,” said Simon, eyes trained for pursuers. “Just some stuff I picked up a while back.”

“Another story you’ll have to tell me.”

“Yeah,” said Simon. “One day.”

“This is how you dress when you hit the town?”

“You told me to ditch the suit.”

“Gold chains. The shoes. You went all out.” A concerned look clouded her face. “You’re bleeding.”

Simon followed her eyes to the droplets spattering the ground. He lifted his shirt to reveal a gash four inches long, laid to the bone. “Maybe I should have killed him.”

“There’s an emergency room across the river. You can tell me what’s going on after you get fixed up.”

Simon touched the wound and winced. Half an inch higher and the blade would have punctured the space between his ribs, most likely killing him. “Okay.”

She raised a finger in warning. “The truth this time.”

“Yeah,” said Simon. “Fine.” He followed her a few steps farther to an imposing motorcycle. “This yours?”

“What did you expect? A pink Vespa?” Nikki unlocked her case and handed Simon her helmet. “Put it on.”

Simon touched her arm. “Thank you, Detective,” he said. “That wasn’t going the way I’d planned.”

“Really? I hadn’t noticed.” Nikki threw a leg over the seat. “Keep pressure on the wound,” she said, firing up the engine. “Any blood gets on my bike, you’re cleaning it off.”





Wednesday





Chapter 32



Cloaked in the shadows opposite Le Galleon Rouge, Valentina waited for Luca Falconi to emerge. She wasn’t a smoker, but she lit a cigarette and tapped her foot like any other tramp waiting for her date.

She’d arrived earlier, looking for the man who’d paid off Delacroix on behalf of Tino Coluzzi. Gaining entry had been a matter of loitering out front and asking the first man heading into the place where a girl could get a drink. Her leather miniskirt and tight blouse did the rest. In minutes she’d been seated at Falconi’s table, listening to a group of increasingly drunken criminals discuss their work. One made his living hijacking gasoline tankers. Another was a forger specializing in passports and identity cards for Middle Eastern refugees. All of them smelled as if they’d eaten garlic at every meal for the past month.

Valentina was careful not to ask any questions about Tino Coluzzi, or, in fact, about anything that might betray her intentions. She laughed when they laughed. She drank when they drank. And she had a hand on Jack’s leg half the time and Falconi’s the other.

Everything changed when the dark-haired man entered the bar and started asking questions about one of their friends. The drunken men were no longer so drunk. Even so, they hadn’t guarded their conversation. She learned that the man at the bar was interested in Tino Coluzzi, too, and they didn’t like it one bit. Valentina had a clear view of him. Even with the dim light and the pall of smoke, she recognized him at once. Blue suit. Purposeful gait. He was a man who left an impression. She’d seen him earlier in the day leaving the Hotel George V. He had to be the man Delacroix had mentioned. Simon Riske.

The door to Le Galleon Rouge swung open. Luca Falconi walked out, an ice pack held to the back of his head. She called his name. “Are you all right? Someone said there was a fight.”

Of course, she knew there had been a fight, as did everyone in the place. Falconi had run inside afterward screaming about Eddie’s head being knocked in and Jack having his arm ripped off. In the chaos, she’d hurried outside in time to see Riske in full flight turning the corner. It had been a difficult decision whether to follow him or to stay with Falconi.

“Guy that was here earlier,” said Falconi. “Troublemaker. That’s all.”

“And your friends? Are they all right?”

“Let’s not talk about them.”

She put a hand on his arm. “I wanted to thank you for the drinks.”

“Don’t worry about it.”

“No, really.” She gave him a smile that was too warm by half.

Luca looked at her. “Tell you what, I could use a coffee. You?”

“It’s late, but thanks anyway. Maybe next time.”

“I make a mean espresso.”

“I need to get home. I have work in the morning.”

“You don’t have to stay long. It’s not far. I could use a hand getting home.”

“That’s three reasons. How can I say no?” Valentina smiled. “All right. But I can only stay for a minute.”

Falconi put an arm around her shoulder. “Just a few blocks. And don’t you worry. I’m a gentleman. Word of honor.”