Chapter Five—Foul Deeds #4
She felt the blood draining from her face as the room swirled, and then Lucas was holding her head down, a steady hand on her neck.
“Breathe deep,” he said.
She struggled not to hyperventilate and slowly sat up. Lucas’s fingers lightly massaged her shoulder and, for once, she felt only comforted by his touch.
With a slight glare at him, Michael picked up her hand. “The place was ransacked. Whoever did it was looking for something.”
A slow dread began to build, like a piece of molten lava in her stomach. She whispered, “The papers?”
“I think so,” Michael answered. “Nothing seemed to be missing. All his antiques were still there. His wallet was on the floor, the money still in it.”
The lump hardened in her stomach. “This is my fault. If I hadn’t taken the papers to him, he’d still be alive. Or if I’d let him keep a copy—he was so thrilled to read the manuscript—now I’ve killed him.”
“Ye dinna,” Lucas said, smoothing her hair back from her face. “The person who did this would have killed him anyway.”
“You know who did this?” Sara asked as tears welled in her eyes.
“I think I know who ordered it.”
“Maybe someone who doesn’t want anyone else to know what the document said,” Michael replied. “Just where were you Friday night?”
Lucas’ eyes deepened to whiskey-color as he regarded the warlock. “I’ve no alibi, if that’s what you’re asking. I went for a drive to familiarize myself with the surroundings. And how did you find out that the professor was dead?”
Sara felt the electrical charges flow through her as Michael probed Lucas’s mind.
“I will not be a conduit!” She flashed the message to Michael mentally.
“You must ask permission before—” To her surprise, she felt the surge of energy reverse itself and flow back to Michael.
Did he withdraw the force or had Lucas returned it?
Michael arched a dark eyebrow. “I drove out there this morning. Since I talked with Sara Friday night, I had a few questions of my own to ask. Robert filled me in on what happened.”
Sara wiped at her tears with an edge of the blanket. “And where was Robert during all this? He’s supposed to take care of him!”
“He says he got a phone call from Parkland that his daughter had been in a car accident. The professor told him to go.”
“Let me guess. The hospital never called?” Lucas’s face was grim.
“No.” Michael said and then narrowed his eyes. “You said you think you know who ordered this?”
“He goes by the name of Adam Baylor. On the surface, he runs a brokerage house in London.”
“London?” Sara asked. “Do you think he was at Sotheby’s? Is that how he knew about the document?”
“He knew. He doesn’t like to be seen. He probably sent one of his henchmen to bid on it.”
Sara thought back. “There was a nervous young man there who bid on it. He kept looking back, but there wasn’t anyone there. Or at least not for long. I thought I saw a swarthy-looking person with a patch over one eye—” She stopped as Lucas hand stilled on her shoulder and then dropped. “What?”
“So he was there, then.”
Her eyes widened. “That was the man responsible for the professor’s murder?”
“You need to call the police,” Michael interjected.
Lucas sighed. “It won’t do any good. He cloaks himself in layers of protection. Whoever the hit man was, he wouldn’t know who really hired him.”
“How about Caldwell?” Michael asked. “I find it suspicious that both of you happened to show up so conveniently.”
“I asked Scotland Yard to run an Interpol check on him,” Lucas answered and smiled at Michael’s look of surprise.
“Nothing definitive came back. He’s been involved in a few questionable disputes regarding some angry husbands, but nothing criminal.
Anyway, Balor would never use someone who could be so directly identified.
He’s far too clever to use mass communication, also, when he has other sources he can use. ”
“What sources?” Sara asked.
Lucas grimaced. “The brokerage is set up to launder money and provide funds to terrorists. Afghanistan, Iraq, Iran…the civil unrest in Lebanon and Nigeria…the pending oil problem with Venezuela…the drug cartels in Mexico…you name it.”
“But if you know this, why can’t the British arrest him?”
“Don’t think they haven’t tried. The open set of books he keeps is legitimate. He never deals directly with the funneling of the funds. Again, layers of protection. Even those who were arrested could only give the partial names of who had hired them.”
“But why does he do it?” Sara asked. “And why kill an innocent old man who didn’t have what they were looking for?”
“Because he can, Sara. Because he can. He likes inflicting pain and misery.” A hard, predatory look came into Lucas’ eyes and, again, she thought she saw the angles of his face change and narrow slightly and then the image was gone. “Some men are Satan’s own spawn.”
He didn’t have to tell her what would happen if the Hallows fell into this Baylor’s hands. She shuddered. He hadn’t been exaggerating. Civilization really would be destroyed.
From her perch on the mantel, Nim began to keen softly.