“She’s all set. Would you like to go for a spin in her?”
“I don’t have time. Did you arrange the meet?”
“Yeah. He’s only in Paris for two days.”
“At the Ritz?”
“Yeah, and he didn’t like me asking him to meet you. You know what these guys are like about honor. You have to do a lot of bowing around the guy. He’s something else. And he’s got this other guy that breathes down your neck the whole time.”
“Odd Job.”
“What?”
“Nothing. Is this guy his bodyguard?”
“Yeah. He’s got a driver-cum-heavy as well. I said we’d meet him this afternoon at the Louvre. He’s also into art. Do you know that if a Japanese person buys a painting and holds on to it for two years, it becomes his property even if it’s stolen goods.”
“No, I didn’t. I want to meet him alone, Paul.”
“What?”
“You heard me. The less we’re seen together the better.”
“I arranged the meet, for Chrissakes!”
“I know you did. But I still want to meet him alone.” He reminded Dulay to anchor a good distance off the coast the day of the robbery. De Jersey also instructed him to test the watertight crate he had told him to acquire. They spoke for another few moments, then de Jersey left.
He caught a taxi back to the airport and hired a twin-engine plane to fly to Paris. He picked up another taxi and arrived at the Louvre just after two thirty. He had half an hour before his meeting with Mr. Kitamo.
Mr. Kitamo hardly ever looked directly at de Jersey. He maintained a slow walk, pausing at various paintings, sometimes stopping to read a plaque, then stepping back to gaze at the picture. He appeared to be interested only in the art on display and let out a soft sigh when they stood in front of the Mona Lisa. The bodyguard kept a discreet distance behind them.
Kitamo finally broke the silence. “To possess a painting of such beauty is very desirable, but there are many rumors that her enigmatic smile is whispering, ‘Fake.’ I will require one of my own people to check over the merchandise. Although I trust our mutual friend, I will accept the terms only if I am satisfied that the said item is authentic. We have agreed on the price, and I understand you wish to have a show of my intention.” Kitamo turned his expressionless black eyes toward de Jersey. “One million U.S. dollars.”
“Correct,” de Jersey said.
“Agreed. Our friend will receive it as soon as I am informed that the item is in his possession. I will, perhaps, be prepared also to negotiate a price for certain smaller valuable pieces.” Kitamo ended the conversation as quickly as he had started it. “I have enjoyed meeting you, Mr. Simmons.” He gave a small bow, as if to conclude the meeting, and turned back to the Mona Lisa.
De Jersey, however, remained where he stood. Kitamo hesitated, then clicked his fingers to his bodyguard. Kitamo moved off, and his bodyguard stepped in front of de Jersey, withdrawing from his jacket pocket a white envelope and passing it discreetly to him. Then he joined Kitamo. De Jersey crossed to sit on one of the leather-covered benches and slipped the envelope inside the gallery’s brochure as he opened it. It contained confirmation of a banking facility for over $250 million U.S. in Kitamo’s name. It was issued by the Banque Eurofin. A contact number was provided.
De Jersey remained seated for a few moments. When he stood up and looked toward the end of the gallery, Kitamo, who had been watching him, gave a small bow. De Jersey inclined his head back and walked out. Mr. Kitamo, as Dulay had said, was a legitimate buyer and had the finance to purchase a good many of the jewels they were planning to steal. De Jersey was relieved to know this.
Back in England, the warehouse remained empty, but Wilcox and Driscoll timed the journey from there to the safe house several times. The date on which they would move all the convoy vehicles and the equipment was still undecided, although de Jersey planned to do it at night, one vehicle at a time, so as not to raise suspicion. After months of planning, the heist was only five days away.
Christina was at home watching television when she received a third call from Sylvia Hewitt. She again asked to speak to de Jersey and seemed angry when she was told that he was away.
“Where can I get in touch with him?” she asked.
“He usually stays at his club, the St. James’s, but I know he’s very busy at the moment, so if you would like to leave him a message-”
“I already have. I’ll call the club. Sorry to bother you, but if he should return, can you pass on these numbers?” Sylvia dictated her cell, office, and home numbers.
“How is Helen?” Christina couldn’t resist asking, just to hear Sylvia’s response.
“Still grieving for David. So, will you pass these numbers to your husband?”
“Yes.”
“Thank you,” Sylvia said and hung up.
Christina had just settled down to continue watching television when Sylvia called back. “He’s not there, and they said he was not expected this evening. Have you a mobile number I could call?”
“I’m afraid I don’t know it. I’m so sorry.”
There was a pause. Christina could almost feel the woman’s impatience.
Sylvia sounded really angry when she asked again if Christina could get her husband to call her urgently. “Please make sure he knows that he really should contact me.”
“I’ll tell him.”
Christina went into her husband’s study to look for his cell phone number. She could never remember it. She had been worried to hear that he was not expected at the club that evening. She found the number and called it, but the phone was switched off. Frustrated, she called de Jersey’s club. A moment later they were speaking.
“Christina? Is something wrong?”
“No, darling. It’s just that David Lyons’s sister-in-law called. She said it was very urgent. It’s the third time. She’s really quite persistent. I said you were staying at the club, and I think she called there.”
“Oh, God, that wretched woman.”
“The porter said you weren’t there.”
He laughed. “That’s why I stay here. Good service!”
“Well, it’s good that I caught you. She wanted your mobile number, but I didn’t give it to her.”
“Thank you. She’s a real pain. Did she say why she wanted me so urgently?”
“Not really. Something about someone called Moreno, and I can’t remember the other name she mentioned. She left an array of contact numbers. Do you want them?”
“No, I don’t want to speak to her.”
“Are you all right, darling?”
“Yes. Just had a heavy day. Back-to-back meetings. I’m not raising funds as fast as I’d hoped.”
“Is there anything I can do?”
“Not really. I’m having dinner with an American banker this evening, so things may look better tomorrow. I’ll call you later and give you an update. And perhaps after all I’ll have the woman’s numbers. I’ll call and get her off my back.”
De Jersey replaced the receiver, tense with anger. He thanked the porter and arranged a room for the night. The man passed him his room keys and told him about the call from a Miss Hewitt. “Thank you, John. If she calls again, tell her I’m in a meeting and can’t be interrupted, would you?”
“Yes, sir. Good night, sir.”
“Good night, John.”
De Jersey showered and changed into a clean shirt, which he had brought in his briefcase. He lay down on the bed and closed his eyes. He was relieved that he had decided on a whim to come to his club. It had been pure coincidence that he had walked in just as Christina called. He wondered what the wretched Hewitt woman wanted. It was almost eight, though, so he decided to go to Westbrook’s and deal with Sylvia Hewitt later.
De Jersey left the club unnoticed by the porter. He had already put a do-not-disturb message on his room’s phone-message recorder. He hailed a taxi in Jermyn Street.