Chapter Ten
Gabriela stepped out of her cab, crossed the sidewalk, and opened the door to Café Dillywaingarten.
Her hair was pulled back into a loose twist, and her makeup was subdued.
She was wearing a coordinated lightweight, sooty-gray knit sweater and knee-length skirt with Louboutin Kate pumps in Blush.
This was her go-to dress-up travel outfit.
It was comfortable in any weather, and no matter how much abuse it received it refused to wrinkle.
The dining room was intimate and clubby. Dark wood paneling, comfortable leather armchairs at the tables. White linen tablecloths and napkins. Gold-rimmed Limoges china.
Gabriela recognized Harry Bench from his internet photos.
Six foot and trim. Gray hair with a slight wave and an expensive cut.
Clean-shaven. Forty-six years old. White shirt and striped tie.
Gray suit that looked tailor-made. Only in London and New York would you still find a man at breakfast in a suit and tie, Gabriela thought.
Gabriela followed the host to the table, took the seat opposite Bench, and introduced herself.
“You have an impressive reputation,” Bench said. “And now you’ve done the impossible and found the Rosetta Stone.”
“That was a piece of good luck,” Gabriela said. “After a couple of false starts and a little bad luck.”
A waiter approached and Gabriela ordered French press coffee and a croissant. Bench got coffee and an omelet.
“I’m interested in your methods,” Bench said to Gabriela. “How did you manage to find the stone. And where did you find it?”
“I found it in a garage in Brixton.”
“I’m not familiar with Brixton.”
“It’s a neighborhood on the other side of the Thames.”
“I expected it to be in a vault in a private collection somewhere,” Bench said. “What sort of garage was this? Were you able to capture the thief? I only heard that the stone was safely returned.”
“The thief doesn’t interest me,” Gabriela said. “I was tasked with finding and returning the stone.”
“So, you have no leads? No names?”
The coffees were set on the table. The waiter pressed the plunger of the French press and poured a cup of coffee for Gabriela.
“I have nothing worth sharing,” Gabriela said. “I heard a bit of gossip in a pub, and I followed a trail of breadcrumbs. The stone was in a random, abandoned garage.”
This was mostly true, Gabriela thought. At this point in time, she saw no reason to give Bench more information. She would give names and details over to the proper authorities when they got in touch with her.
“In Brixton,” Bench said.
“Yes. And I tried many garages before I found the right one.” She took a sip of coffee. “You must be relieved to have the stone returned. I understand your bank insured it.”
“Unfortunately, we had a foolish president who made many bad decisions. Insuring the Rosetta Stone was one of them. What is your next adventure? I imagine you’ll be going back to New York now.”
“I haven’t decided on my next stop. I’ve been asked to find the major missing pieces that the bank insured. My next stop most likely will be Paris.”
Gabriela already knew that her next stop would be Cairo, but she didn’t see any reason to share this with Bench.
Something about Bench had her radar humming.
He had a purpose for this meeting, and she didn’t think it involved giving her a Bentley.
She thought a little misinformation might be prudent until she had a better grip on his agenda.
“Who hired you to do this?” Bench asked.
“Someone who has an interest in the bank and wishes to be anonymous.”
“That’s hard to believe. Why would someone want to do that? The bank is conducting its own investigation. Every institution affected is conducting their own investigation.”
“Nevertheless, here I am,” Gabriela said.
“I’m sure the authorities aren’t happy to have you poking around, muddying the water. Certainly, the bank isn’t.”
“I found the stone. I’d think the bank would be delighted.”
“Maybe you already knew where the stone was hidden. Maybe you’re a part of this. Maybe you’re working with Harley Patch. He listed your father as a former employer.”
Okay, Gabriela thought. Now we’re getting somewhere. Bench has done his homework and reached some strange conclusions.
“Harley worked on my father’s fishing boat when he was in high school and college,” Gabriela said.
“I think you’re complicit in this,” Bench said.
“You pretended to find the stone, so it would look like you were acting in a legitimate capacity and wouldn’t be considered an accomplice to Patch.
I want to know where you have the rest of the stolen pieces hidden.
We want them returned. If they’re returned now, we won’t press charges or divulge our source. ”
“I’m sure you aren’t serious,” Gabriela said. “It’s a fun idea, but not really my thing.”
Gabriela looked beyond Bench at the large windows in the front of the café.
A black Range Rover four-by-four had just double-parked, and three large men in black suits got out.
One had his phone in hand. Hard to tell through the window, but it looked to Gabriela like he was texting.
Moments later Bench glanced down at his phone and then he slid a quick glance at the window.
The men could be here to get take-out bagels for the king, she thought.
Or they could be Bench’s goons. Hard to believe that someone would try to muscle her out of the restaurant, but stranger things had happened to her.
There was that time at the Royal Opera House when she was injected in the neck by the man sitting behind her and she woke up in a cell in Marrakech.
Not something she would want to repeat. The current conversation wasn’t heading in a good direction anyway, so it was probably time to move on.
Gabriela placed her napkin on the table. “If you’ll excuse me for a moment, I need to visit the restroom. I’ll share some details when I return if you promise not to eat my croissant while I’m gone.”
Gabriela pushed away from the table and walked to the back of the room, toward the short corridor that led to the restrooms. She entered the corridor, paused, and took a quick look back at the dining room. Two of the black-suited men had just entered.
The restrooms were to her right. The kitchen was to her left.
She pushed through the two swinging doors into the kitchen.
She walked through the kitchen, past the line cooks and prep area.
She snatched a croissant off a cart, dropped it into her handbag, and exited through the back door, into a small parking area for deliveries and dumpsters.
She quickly moved past the dumpsters into the service alley, hiked her skirt up, and sprinted the half block to the cross street.
She reached the cross street just as the two men burst out of the café into the alley and took off after her.
She was about to cross the street when Rafer pulled up in the rental car.
The car window rolled down and Rafer looked out at Gabriela. “Need a ride?”
Gabriela wrenched the passenger-side door open and jumped in, and Rafer pulled into traffic.
“What a coincidence that you should be lurking at that street corner,” Gabriela said.
“I was going to lurk in front of the café, but I couldn’t find a good lurking spot and had to drive around the block.”
“That’s why I took a cab. There’s no place to park here.”
“I almost ran up on the curb when I saw you barreling down the alley running flat-out in those heels. How do you run in those things without killing yourself?”
“I get a lot of practice running down cabs in New York.”
“I imagine the guys who were chasing you weren’t just looking for a cheap date.”
“My best guess is that they were with Bench. He accused me of working with Harley to steal all those treasures.”
“That’s crazy. You returned the Rosetta Stone.”
“His reasoning was that it was part of a plan to avoid suspicion on my part.”
“That makes no sense,” Rafer said.
“Exactly. He started out by telling me to cease and desist looking for the remaining stolen items. Then he progressed to accusing me of being complicit in the thefts.”
“Are you going to cease and desist?”
“No. I’m flying to Cairo as planned. We have reservations for a two o’clock flight. We need to get back to the Soho and check out before they stake out the hotel.”
Gabriela watched the approach to Cairo International Airport from her window seat.
The city below her was bright with lights against the dark night sky.
The five-hour nonstop flight had taken her over the Med and then over the vast Nile delta, which was chockablock with strips of farmland and dotted with towns.
The southern point of the delta was settled in 3000 BC and grew into Cairo, sprawling into the desert on the east, merging with Giza on the west. The airport had been built on the eastern edge of the city where the terrain was more desert than delta.
Even in the dark it was a flat, harsh landscape.
Gabriela felt the wheels touch down, and she got the rush of excitement that she always felt with the start of a new adventure in an exotic location.
The rush was cut short by the knowledge that Rafer and Harley were sitting three rows in front of her, and that they were going to be with her for the duration of this project.
Rafer because he was stubborn and ditching him would take more time and energy than simply taking him along.
Harley because she felt it was dangerous to leave him unprotected in New York or London.
Okay, so it’s not the end of the world, she told herself.
It could be worse. Truth is, she liked them.
Mostly. Maybe she even loved them. Sort of.
She compared them to her favorite jeans from high school that no longer fit.
She still loved those jeans, and from time to time she’d try to wear them, but within minutes they were giving her an atomic wedgie.
She retrieved her small travel bag from the overhead compartment and checked her watch. It had already updated to Eastern European Summer Time, two hours ahead of London time. It was a little after nine o’clock, and she had immigration and customs in front of her.