“They had to close the place down yesterday,” DeSantos said. “Because of the pickpockets. The workers went on a one-day strike to protest. They were being threatened. Apparently the gypsies operate in gangs now and they’ve gotten violent, even threatening the security guards. Leave them alone or they know where you live and they’ll go after your family.”
“You’re shitting me.”
“Nope. While I was waiting, a young couple told me they’d planned to come yesterday, got here, and were turned away. They had to rearrange their trip to come back today.” He nodded toward the left portion of the crowd. “The guy in black, the woman in gray. Watch him get the wallet out of that tourist’s pocket.”
Vail saw their methodology: they worked in a group, an attractive female pushing up against the mark while the male crowded him from behind. She engaged the victim, apologizing or making some comment about how packed it was — while her accomplice removed the booty with practiced skill.
Vail set a hand on her concealed Glock and took a step forward — but DeSantos grabbed her arm.
“You’re not a cop here, Katherine Vega. Let it go.”
Vail growled, then stepped back — but did not take her eyes off the perpetrator.
“Find anything out?”
DeSantos’s question refocused her. “Yeah. The curator was under ‘orders’ to deny that they had it.”
“He just told you that?”
“Kind of. I can be persuasive when I need to be.”
DeSantos lifted his brow. “Go on.”
“I ended up speaking with the director of ancient documents, Lufti Raboud. Seems as if the order to deny their possession of the codex came from him. I sent his prints to Tim Meadows.”
“How’d you do that?”
“I got his business card. I went into the ladies’ room, dusted it, and emailed it to Tim. Because of the time difference it may be a while before we get something.”
“Nicely done.”
“I could tell Raboud was lying and I called him on it. He came clean and said they did have a document they thought was the codex but it turned out not to be the case.”
“Shit.”
“Not exactly. I’m pretty sure that was a load of crap too. He said that when they determined it wasn’t the codex, he was relieved because of the controversy surrounding it.”
“Okay.”
“No, not okay. The Louvre’s director of ancient documents relieved he didn’t have the ability to examine, to touch, one of the most important manuscripts of all time? I’m not buying it.”
DeSantos bobbed his head. “Good point.”
“He’s either an imposter, a sleeper operative, or he’s on al Humat’s payroll.”
“Our focus is the codex.”
“He said the document that they did have was cleaned and sent away.”
DeSantos nodded slowly, then said, “You don’t believe him.”
“Assuming it’s real, and assuming it did need some restoration, which is certainly reasonable, I may know where it is.”
“And where’s that?”
“In the restoration workshop. Pretty cool lab in the basement.”
“Then we should have a look around,” DeSantos said as he scanned the large room. “They’re open late, till 9:00 or 10:00. We can’t just sit here and wait for it to close.”
“You’re right. Why pass the time actually enjoying one of the finest collections of art in the world?”
“Given your background in art history, I can see why that’s appealing to you. Ain’t happenin’.”
“Knew you were going to say that.”
“Coming back later in the same day would look suspicious if anyone happens to notice.” He turned his body to face both Vail and the Mona Lisa. “So we have to make something happen.”
“Knew you were going to say that too.” A few seconds later, she said, “We could set off the fire alarm.”
DeSantos scanned the room. “Don’t see any. Not sure how that works in a museum anyway. Can’t be hooked up to sprinklers. The art would be damaged or destroyed. Must be heat sensors and smoke detectors. We don’t smoke, so unless you can spontaneously generate intense heat, we have to find another way.”
“You always tell me I’m hot.”
“Hot enough to trigger my sensors. But not hot enough to trigger the heat sensors. I’ve got another option. The gypsies.”
“I think they prefer the term Roma.”
“Fine. The Roma.”
“You want to pay them to break in and steal it for us?”
“That’s not a bad idea. Problem is we’d never get it back from them. No, we use them as a diversion.”
“I’m listening.”
“I’m thinking.”
Five minutes later, he had the seed of a plan: they would observe the behavior of the Roma pickpockets and then select one to approach with an offer: they would pay him €500 to cause a distraction significant enough to draw security to the area. It was likely they had compatriots in other areas of the museum, so if they coordinated the disturbance, security — and those monitoring whatever surveillance cameras the Louvre had — would be drawn to respond. When they were done, assuming they performed as agreed, DeSantos would meet his contact outside and give him another €500.
“I’m not sure I like this.”
“I’m not crazy about it either. But it’s the best I can come up with that won’t put our asses on the line or our faces on camera. The Roma are used to brushes with the guards — and because of what happened yesterday, I’m sure the guards are on edge about it. The response should be bigger than usual.”
Vail hesitated.
“You got a better idea?”
“No.”
“How sure are you that Raboud was lying?”
How sure am I? Good question. She took a moment to replay the conversation, reconsider his body language. “Sixty-forty. Maybe seventy-thirty.”
DeSantos considered that. “We’re here. The codex may or may not be here. I say we go for it.”
Of course you would.
“You have doubts?”
She leaned close to him. “We’re in a foreign country on forged passports, about to break into the Louvre’s document restoration lab and steal an invaluable ancient artifact that may or not be there. With no valid exit strategy. And we’re relying on a criminal enterprise to help us.” She shrugged. “What’s there to doubt? Sounds like a flawless plan.”
“Good, then we’re in agreement.”
She gave DeSantos a look but it did not deter him.
“Let’s take some time to pick the right guy to go after.”
“And how do you know who’s Roma and who’s a tourist?”
“The tourists come and go. They look, they gawk, they shoot photos, and then move on. The thieves move in, do their thing, and then shuffle over to another area.”
“How do you know this?”
“I’ve been watching. Very little gets by me, Katherine.”
“I could provide plenty of examples, but what would be the point?”
“You realize you just said that out loud.”
“No I didn’t.”
DeSantos shook his head in disappointment. “Are you with me or not?”
“Do you really have to ask?”
“I was being courteous. Now go take a position on the far side and observe. Be discreet.”
“Thanks for the advice. I was going to make it really obvious.”
They wandered off and watched the area for ten minutes before DeSantos rejoined her. “I’ve got our candidate. Give me €500.” He held out his right hand and she peeled off the bills. “Hang back here.”
He walked over to a male who appeared to be in his early twenties and whispered in his ear. He listened a moment then nodded. DeSantos shook hands with the man — the handoff of the money — and walked back to Vail.