Chapter Three
“Donovan?”
Startled, he darted his eyes up. Phoebe was walking towards him.
“Hello, Phoebe. How’s Jane coping?”
“She’s scared, though I think she’s also relieved. But you looked like you were a million miles away.”
“I was, and we need to talk,” he began solemnly. “I don’t think this was as random as it appears. I think Jane’s boyfriend was targeted and exploited.”
“What are you saying?”
“I’m saying we’re a hair’s breath away from the sophisticated gang behind all this. Phoebe, we’re already wading in shark infested waters. I’m calling Sam.”
“Can we do this in our room? It’s a suite actually. It’s gorgeous.”
“I need to do this right away,” he replied, placing the call.
After updating Sam, Donovan suggested apprehending Jimmy Pike and his cohorts when they arrived to collect the painting.
“Sounds like a plan. I’ll contact my counterpart in London and make sure he’s on his way. Just make sure they’re locked up somewhere secure. Donovan, I’m very impressed. You and Phoebe make a great team, but you need to wrap things up as fast as possible. There’s been another theft in Knightsbridge.”
“I don’t believe this. How the hell did anyone break into a home in Knightsbridge?” Donovan exclaimed. “There are people everywhere, and what about the security?”
“I don’t have all the details yet, but it sounds like all the others. Regardless, you and Phoebe need to be there. Move things along as quickly as you can.”
“I will, Sam. You’ll hear from me shortly.”
As he ended the call, he thought about the crime families he’d dealt with in the past. They always had a weak spot. In his last case Manny Trubello, a mafia kingpin, had been obsessed with a priceless necklace which had ultimately been his undoing.
Donovan caught his breath.
Manny had been murdered by a Russian oligarch named Alexi Koslov. The Russian had snatched up the priceless jewelry, and even though he could have stolen other priceless pieces, small and easy to slip into his pockets, he’d chosen a Renoir. The painting had been cumbersome and obvious.
“Is it possible…?” Donovan muttered.
“So, what’s the news?” Phoebe asked, breaking into his thoughts. “How’s Sam?”
“A bit panic stricken.”
“Really? I haven’t dealt with him much, but I can’t imagine him panic-stricken.”
“He tried to hide it but I know him and he’s stressing. Another painting has disappeared from a home in Knightsbridge. He wants us there now.”
“Um—excuse me,” a tentative voice called.
Glancing across to the door they saw Jane poking her head in.
“May I speak with you?”
“Sure, come in,” Donovan said, thinking how pretty she was without the garish makeup.
“I have an idea,” she began as she walked quickly over to join them. “Dad and I—we just had this really heavy talk. We haven’t been getting along since mum left. Well, she hasn’t actually left, but she’s involved in all sorts of things in London so she’s not here very much and I really miss her. He thinks that’s why I went a bit off the rails—that’s what he called it. Anyway, I spoke to her on the phone just now and she’s blaming herself for all this. It’s not her fault…not really…but the point is, now I feel terrible about it all. Dad said Jimmy just used me and he’s right. So, I have a thought. You want me to tell you about Jimmy and his friends. The problem is, I don’t actually know that much, but if I go back to his place maybe I can get some information for you.”
“I appreciate the offer, Jane, I really do, but it’s much too dangerous, and if he suspects—”
“But, Donovan, I have to do something,” she said urgently, cutting him off. “I really want to help.”
“Let me think…you can’t see him, but you can call him. In fact, I need to get to London but I can’t leave until he tries to pick up the portrait. Tell him you’re calling because there will be workers in the basement tomorrow. Is your father busy? He needs to be involved in this.”
“He’s in his study.”
“Perfect. Let’s go there now and work this out.”
* * *
Jimmy Pike was edgy, and it wasn’t because of the coke he’d just snorted. He’d been desperate to escape his boring country life and move to the city. But he didn’t want to be in a crappy flat in a crappy area. He wanted to arrive with money in his pocket, live in a cool place, and enjoy the expensive clubs where the hot, sexy girls hung out. Now, because of a bizarre twist of fate, he was finally on the verge of making it happen.
A month earlier, he’d been in the village and met Jane Hawthorne, the daughter of the local aristocrat. To his shock she wanted to spend time with him, and just a week later she’d taken him into her family’s amazing home.
Things suddenly soared from great to fantastic.
Out of the blue his dealer, a tough biker known as Johnny Boy, called asking about stately homes in the area. The moment Jimmy described Hawthorne Hall, Johnny Boy asked if he’d like to make fifty-thousand pounds for a night’s work. All he had to do was steal a painting.
Jimmy had almost screamed with joy.
Jane Hawthorne had been wearing the slutty makeup he’d insisted on, and when he called, she came running. Twice he’d almost taken her V-card, but she’d changed her mind at the last minute.
He’d invited her over, managed to get her tipsy with a bottle of cheap red wine and tried a third time. When she’d refused, he’d told her she could make it up to him by helping him steal a painting, and if she didn’t agree he’d have to stop seeing her. The entire thing, from getting her on board to moving the portrait into the basement, had been as easy as shoplifting.
Now all he had to do was collect it.
But the thought of creeping into the huge home and moving it out was nerve-racking. His phone rang, making him jump. But seeing Jane’s name on his screen he hastily accepted the call.
“Hey, Jane.”
“Hello, Jimmy. Sorry, but I need to make this quick. I just heard workmen will be going into the basement tomorrow. You’ll have to get the portrait out tonight.”
“Tonight? Fuck. I hope I can reach Roger and Charlie. I sure as hell can’t involve anyone else.”
“I hope they don’t have far to come.”
“No, thank God. They live on the other side of the village, and they’re brothers, so it’s not like I’ll have to chase them up separately.”
“This might sound silly, but I hope the portrait is going to a good home.”
“I have to deliver it to an address near Mayfair, so yeah, I’m sure it will be well taken care of.”
“Do you know how to get there? London can be a nightmare.”
“I’ve been there dozens of times, and once I get my money for this job I’ll be getting my own place. You can come and visit. We’ll have a blast.”
“Jimmy I would love that.”
“Great. But now I have to get this worked out. What time would be good? When does everyone go to bed?”
“Just like last time, around ten, so by midnight things will be quiet.”
“I’ll walk in again, but the van will be out of sight under the trees on the road across from the house.”
“That will be perfect. I’ll be on the front verandah waiting.”
“Okay. I’ll see you tonight. But if there are any problems be sure to call.”
“Of course I will. See you later, Jimmy.”
* * *
“Jane, you’re a star,” Donovan exclaimed, giving her a quick hug. “That was brilliant.”
“It certainly was,” her father agreed. “What now? How do we catch the blighters?”
“That’s up to the man I work for, but rest assured you’ll soon have your portrait back. Now if you’ll excuse me, I must make that call,” he finished as he and Phoebe headed out.
Entering the hall and closing the door behind him, he began striding forward.
“Donovan, slow down,” she said tersely. “Let’s do this in our room. I know where it is.”
“Sure, lead the way.”
“I will if you’ll let me.”
“Sam needs to know about this immediately. He might ask me to follow the painting into London to see exactly where it goes. If he does I’ll need to rent a car.”
“A minute or two won’t change anything.”
“What’s wrong? You don’t look very happy,” he remarked as she turned down another hall.
“Happy? What is there to be happy about?”
“Phoebe…”
“Where do I start?” she retorted, stepping into the opulent suite and glaring at him. “I’m totally jet-lagged, we’ve barely eaten since we arrived, and now, apparently, you could be following a van to London. What will I be doing? Sitting here twiddling my thumbs? I feel completely superfluous. I think I’ll just take that jet and go home.”