“Until now,” Mary Alice corrected.
“Until now,” I agreed.
Akiko’s brow furrowed. “But how do you know Vance Gilchrist took her out? Maybe her owners were found and this is all just a coincidence.”
I ticked off the replies on my fingers. “First, Vance had to remove her personally because the security is biometric and only the Museum directors have access to the collection in storage. Two directors are dead, and that painting was added to Tollemache’s listing at the last minute. Second, when art is restored to the owners, we get an update if it’s a piece we recovered. Nobody here has heard a thing about the Sheba for almost forty years.” I held up a third finger.
“Third?” Akiko asked.
“Third, I don’t believe in coincidences. Not where Vance is concerned. He’s done this on purpose to draw us out. Auction houses don’t like to talk too much about damage to the artworks. But the description of the Sheba is very specific. It was a bullet hole in that corner, and Vance made sure that fact was put into the catalog. He wanted us to find it.”
“Why? I thought he would be hiding from you. Isn’t he in fear of his life?” Akiko protested.
Mary Alice moved her hand to touch Akiko, then seemed to think better of it. “He knows we’re after him. We’ve already taken out Paar and Carapaz. He doesn’t want to keep looking over his shoulder. He’s initiating a fight on his own terms.”
Minka scowled. “This is not safe.”
“No.” I smiled. “No, it isn’t safe at all.” I paused. “There’s one other thing you should know.” And then I told them what I’d found in the folder, the coded identity of the person who had prepared the dossier.
Mary Alice was the first to speak. “What are we going to do about it?”
“Add another name to the hit list,” I said, picking up a marker that smelled like cotton candy.
I wrote the name in pink block capitals. Then I turned back. “Anybody got a problem with that?”
CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
The auction wasn’t for another week, and I was glad of the chance to work out the details. We started with what we knew for sure—the setting.
“This will be a big sale,” Mary Alice mused as we gathered in Constance’s study one evening after dinner. Akiko and Minka were in the kitchen clearing up and working on a duet from Tangled. Helen was skimming Tollemache’s website, looking for anything we might have missed, while Mary Alice flicked through the printouts we’d compiled. I was sitting behind Constance’s desk, idly turning pages in an art book I’d found on the shelf. The Art of the Female Painter. The title was sexist as hell, but I was hoping for some inspiration.
“Lots of people will be crowding in the sale, collectors, journalists,” Mary Alice went on.
“And a shit-ton of security,” Natalie said. “Clearances, CCTV, the works, and all of it state-of-the-art.”
“And livestreamed,” Helen said, pointing to a hyperlink on the website. “For people who want to watch or bid at home.”
I thought for a minute. “That’s a lot of witnesses—too many for an organization that prides itself on discretion. They’ll have to take us out and kill us somewhere else.”
“You think he’ll come in person? That’s a big risk,” Helen said.
“Vance is an arrogant SOB. And he’s been pissed at me since I poached his Nazi in Zanzibar. Of course he’ll come in person. He’ll underestimate us, and that’s our biggest advantage,” I said.
“So,” Mary Alice said, “we need a plan to get into Tollemache’s without alerting Vance’s people. Then we need a way to kill Vance without anybody noticing.”
“Surely it’s better to abduct him and kill him elsewhere,” Helen said. “Much more discreet.”
“Much more dangerous,” Nat corrected. “If we hustle him out, there’s always the chance we’ll be followed or he’ll escape. I say we hit him at the auction house.”
“With the whole world watching?” I raised a brow at her. “Not exactly subtle. And we can’t take the chance of bystanders getting hurt.”
Natalie’s face was wearing its stubborn expression, but she didn’t argue. The first rule of Museum work was that we never touched innocent people. It was a pain in the ass—there’s nothing easier than hurling a bomb into a crowd—but it forced us to be careful and creative in our missions.