‘Full auto pistols? Suppression barrels? You call that art? You know there’s no legitimate reason to request such modifications. You think these guys were hunters? Let me tell you, the only places you hunt with something like that are city streets.’
‘Like I said, we have no interest in what becomes of our products.’
‘Well I do,’ Dial countered. ‘If you’d like, I can dedicate my life to shutting you down, or you can help me find some of the criminals you’ve sold to. In exchange, I swear to keep your name out of things. No one will ever know the information came from you. Furthermore, you can keep pretending that your father is still running things — which I assume is important to some of your Middle Eastern customers. After all, who would want to buy a gun from a girl?’
She knew he was right. ‘Which criminals?’
He smiled. ‘Let’s start with the bastard who attacked my friend. His men were armed with Beretta knockoffs with biometric palm scanners.’
‘Biometric palm scanners?’ she asked, confused. ‘You’re joking, are you not? We have never dealt in such things. You must be mistaken.’
‘Josephine,’ he said with a laugh, ‘I thought we were finally beginning to understand each other. You do me a favor, and I do you a favor. Unfortunately, that only works if you hold up your end of the bargain. Remember, one phone call from me and your business disappears.’
‘Do not move,’ ordered a voice from behind him. The demand was followed by the unmistakable click of a pistol being cocked.
‘Natalia!’ Josephine shouted. ‘What are you doing?’
Dial turned slowly to see a younger version of Josephine standing behind him. It was obvious that Natalia was Josephine’s daughter. It was also obvious that she knew how to handle a gun, based on her steady aim and perfect stance. Of course, that made sense, given that her mother was one of the best gunsmiths in the world.
‘Lower your weapon,’ Dial insisted.
‘Why are you here?’ Natalia demanded.
‘Natalia, he is from Interpol,’ Josephine explained in French. ‘He has only come to talk. We have done nothing wrong. Please put down the pistol.’
After a few more seconds of posturing, Natalia uncocked the hammer and holstered the weapon. As she did, Dial caught a glimpse of the same biometric palm scanner that Payne had discovered on the gun in Pittsburgh.
‘I must apologize for my daughter,’ Josephine said. ‘You came to our farm in the middle of the night. A stranger she did not know. She was merely trying to protect me.’
‘Heir to the family business?’ he guessed.
Josephine nodded. ‘She has been studying the craft since she was a child.’
‘Oh, I’d say she’s been doing a little more than studying, haven’t you, Natalia?’ He pointed at her holstered weapon. ‘That grip sure looks familiar.’
Natalia looked down at her weapon.
‘Natalia, what does he mean by that?’ Josephine asked.
Natalia tried pulling her sweater over the holster, but the gun was simply too big to be concealed.
Josephine stepped forward, pulled back the sweater, and drew the gun from its holster. She examined the grip, immediately recognizing the palm-scanning technology that Dial had just mentioned. ‘Natalia … what have you done?’
‘It is nothing. A custom order. I do them on my own.’
‘Your job is to take orders and see they have been shipped,’ Josephine argued. ‘You are not ready to design your own line, and you have no right to alter my creations!’
‘They aren’t buying your creations! They are buying my modifications!’
Dial reached under his jacket and unholstered his own gun. Then he slid his hands under the table, just in case Natalia panicked. ‘Let me see if I got this straight. Your mom makes the guns, but you make the changes before you box them and send them off?’
Natalia answered his question with a subtle nod.
Dial laughed at the absurdity of the situation. He couldn’t believe that one of the most respected arms dealers in the world was a defiant teenager.
‘Why are you laughing?’ Natalia demanded.
‘Natalia, be quiet,’ Josephine said.
He continued to laugh. ‘Your customers are going to love this. So will your competitors. And so will my friend. I forgot about him. He’s gonna be pissed when he finds out her custom order almost got him killed.’
‘She is only a girl. She stays out of this!’
‘Of course,’ Dial said as he nodded to the empty chair to his right, ‘but only if she sits down and tells me everything I want to know. In fact, that statement applies to you, too. By the time this conversation is over, the three of us are going to be the best of friends. But before we get started, I need you to do two things for me. First, I want you to hand me that gun …’
Josephine, who was riding a crest of emotions, glanced down and realized she was holding her daughter’s gun so tightly that her hand was turning white. She apologized for the oversight and placed the weapon on the table in front of Dial.
‘Thank you. You were making me nervous,’ he said.
She nodded. ‘What’s number two?’
He smiled at her. ‘Where’s that coffee you promised me?’
49
The car crested a small slope and stopped near a meticulously groomed wall of shrubbery that shielded the property beyond from the prying eyes of those on the street. Between the road and the hedge was a wide iron gate: another deterrent that ensured privacy.
Payne watched as Stanley lowered the window and pressed his hand against a scanning device. A series of six lights lit up in turn — the first for his palm, then one for each of his fingertips — and Payne could hear the distinct ping of the magnetic locks disengaging. The electric gates retracted, allowing access to the driveway.
As they drove past the protective blockade of landscaping, the back half of the magnificent estate came into view. Though no stranger to prime real estate, Payne was impressed with the natural design. The multi-tiered structure was a collection of distinct bungalows. In the center was a larger main area. Together they appeared to Payne as southern California’s opulent version of a quaint bed and breakfast. They passed a small fountain in the middle of the driveway’s roundabout and pulled up next to the building’s stately entrance.
‘Let me show you around,’ Gambaro said with a smile.
Payne, Jones and Sahlberg exited the car and followed.
On the other side of the carved wooden doors, they found a warm, inviting lobby with floor-to-ceiling glass walls that faced the back half of the property. Payne could see more bungalows lining the rocky bluffs and a perfectly manicured lawn that stretched more than two hundred feet. At the far end was a patio that overlooked the pounding surf of the Pacific Ocean below.
‘Holy crap,’ Payne whispered to Jones. ‘Frank Lloyd Wright outdid himself on this one. I might need to buy this place.’
‘If you do, please hire me as the pool boy.’
‘Pool? What pool? I haven’t seen one yet.’
‘Me neither,’ Jones admitted, ‘but let’s be honest, I’m not going to clean it anyway.’
Gambaro led them to the second floor, a trip that took nearly a full minute. At the top of the stairs, the landing opened on to a rooftop terrace dominated by a massive circular table. It was like something out of Camelot, only with ocean views. Seated around the table were an elderly woman and two men who were considerably younger.
‘Welcome,’ the woman said without standing. ‘I am Rita Dawson. And you are Jonathon Payne and David Jones, correct? Come now, which is which?’