Alex Archer - The Pretender's Gambit

“I need to know about the elephant piece.”

“I will not discuss that.”

“A man was killed last night, probably for that elephant. You understand how that is important, something I should know.”

“I did not kill him. I have not been inside Maurice Benyovszky’s building. Your investigation will confirm that. Or, at the least, not be able to put me inside that building.”

“Are you boasting?”

“I am merely stating the truth as I see it.”

“Professor Nguyen—” the detective laced his fingers together on the table “—maybe you don’t understand your circumstances. Potentially you’re in a lot of trouble here.”

“Have I broken any laws?”

“None that I’m aware of, but you’re at the center of a murder, and that makes you a material witness. I can hold you on that alone for a time.”

Rao had not known that. That revelation did make things more complicated.

“Tell me about you and Calapez,” McGilley went on.

“I do not know anyone named Calapez.” Rao guessed that must have been the name of the man inside the diner, the one who had come at him shooting. Rao was not lying. He did not know the man’s name, which was what he had stated, but he had known the man was also after the elephant.

“You seemed to know him earlier.”

“Calapez is the man who was in the diner.” The name of the man was new to Rao. He filed it away. “He had a weapon and seemed intent on using it. I reacted.”

“I saw you when you recognized him. I know you knew him then.” McGilley laced his hands around his coffee and Rao knew the man was drawing warmth from the hot liquid. “He knew you, too.”

“He has said this?” That would be interesting, and it would mean that the man who had sent Calapez to get the elephant knew more than Rao and his superiors had reckoned.

“I’m asking the questions.”

“Of course. I meant no disrespect. I did not know the man’s name until you mentioned it now.”

“How do you know him?”

“Only through a chance encounter earlier. He struck me as a violent man. A killer. I am certain that if you look into his background you will discover this for yourself.”

“Where did you encounter Calapez before this morning?”

Rao considered that quickly and thought that he would not be risking too much by telling the truth. “In Phnom Penh.”

“When?”

“A few days ago.”

“What was he doing there?”

“I do not know.”

The detective frowned in irritation. “Where did the two of you meet?”

“We did not meet.”

“Where were you when you saw Calapez?”

“In the museum where I sometimes work.”

The detective checked the file. “At the national museum?”

“Yes.”

“And you don’t know what Calapez was doing there?”

“No.”

“Between you and me, I don’t think Calapez is much of a history buff or art lover.”

“I do not get that impression either.”

McGilley paused for a moment as if to let that sink in. “What brings you to New York?”

“I came to see Mr. Benyovszky, as I told you in the diner.”

The pupils of the detective’s eyes dilated, giving away his excitement even though he remained stone-faced. “Did you and Mr. Benyovszky know each other?”

“No. We had exchanged email and a few phone calls.” Rao knew that would check out if the police checked Benyovszky’s phone records. He did not want to get caught in a lie. That would complicate matters regarding the recovery of the elephant.

“You should really tell me about the elephant.”

Rao didn’t reply. He had learned what he could from the policeman. They knew nothing about the elephant. McGilley asked more questions, but Rao remained silent. Finally, in frustration, the detective got up and left the interview room.

* * *

“WHAT ARE YOU going to do with him?” Annja watched Nguyen Rao through the one-way glass.

Bart’s aggravation showed in the hard lines along his jaw and the stiffness of his neck. He tossed the folder onto a nearby table. “I’m going to sit on him, hold him as long as I can. Sooner or later, someone will come looking for him, and when they do, I’ll know more.”

“Maybe I could talk to him. He did offer to speak to me, too.”

Stubbornly, Bart shook his head. “No. That’s what this guy wants, for whatever reason, and I’m not agreeing to any of his demands. I want him to sweat, let him sit in a box for a while to soften him up. I’m betting he feels more like talking then.”

“What if he doesn’t?”

“Then we’ll discuss you talking to him. If he still wants to.”

Annja knew Bart wasn’t going to budge on his decision. “What are you going to do until then?”

“I’m going to go home and get some sleep. While Nguyen Rao is sitting in a cell, freaking out and realizing I’m serious about holding him, I’ll be getting the rest I need. When I talk to him again, I’ll have a clear head and I’ll probably know more. I’ve got guys working on his background. We’ll find whatever Nguyen is hiding. We might even have the elephant by then, too. If we do, the balance of power in our discussion will probably shift.” Bart looked at her. “You need to go home, too, Annja. I appreciate all the help, and I’m sorry to have gotten you out of bed.”

“And almost got me killed?” Annja raised a mocking eyebrow.

Bart nodded. “And that.” He regarded her for a moment. “The guys who arrested you told me you took down Calapez and his friend. That was pretty gutsy.”

“I didn’t have a choice.”

“I know you can defend yourself.” Bart sometimes sparred with Annja in the dojo she frequented when she could. She’d taught him a lot, adding to the basic defenses he’d been trained on in the academy. “When Calapez forced you out of the diner, I was afraid something was going to happen to you.”

“It didn’t. We both got lucky.”

“Yeah, well, Calapez ended up with a broken hand.”

“I saw an opportunity and took it. I wasn’t getting into the car with him.”

“Why was Calapez so intent on taking you?”

“As a hostage, I suppose.”

“Maybe.” Bart took a deep breath and let it out. “I’m glad everything turned out okay.”

Annja stepped in and gave him a hug, patting his back, thinking about how close she’d come to losing him. Bart was a friend, a really good one, and she didn’t want to ever lose him. “Me, too.”

* * *

OUTSIDE THE POLICE STATION, Annja turned and walked down the street, her hands in her pockets and her collar turned up against the cold wind. Bart had offered to have an officer drive her home, but she’d refused, knowing that they were busy and she wanted to be on her own.

She thought about returning to her loft, to the work she had waiting for her there, but she knew she couldn’t focus on that or rest right now. Her mind was too busy, seeking out answers to the riddle of the elephant. Frustration chafed at her because she didn’t know enough to ask the right questions.

Before she knew it, she’d gone down a few blocks aimlessly. Spotting a cab, she hailed it, met it at the curb and told the driver to take her to Maurice Benyovszky’s building.

* * *

“ARE YOU POLICE?” The woman who asked Annja that question stood in front of a dryer in a local Laundromat two blocks down from Benyovszky’s address. Annja had noted the address of the business on some receipts on Benyovszky’s desk when she’d looked over his things.

Plump and in her late twenties, the woman looked Slavic and spoke with a Russian accent. Her dark hair was pulled back and frizzy from the heat inside the Laundromat. She held a three year old girl on her hip as she worked one-handed to put the wet clothes into the machine.