not the one who needs help. He does.
“You really don’t have anything on him, do you?”
Nick frowns. “I know he’s guilty.”
“But that’s not enough, not to arrest him, or have any chance of winning a trial.” I sit back, feeling more in control. “You’ve got nothing.”
Lennox leans back into the leather booth and strokes his stubble. He makes a tiny shrugging motion like he’s decided it can’t hurt to tell me. “Okay, Grace, here’s the deal. I checked his travel and the dates match up. I know St. Clair was in the city of each stolen painting on or near the date of each robbery.”
I feel weirdly relieved. If Lennox already knows that, I don’t have to tell him – or betray St. Clair. But then it hits me – Lennox does have some evidence, after all.
He watches my reaction. “You don’t seem surprised.”
“St. Clair travels a lot. So do many other high-profile businessmen,” I say, trying to keep cool. “I bet there are dozens of people whose travel patterns fit the same dates.”
“But St. Clair is the one who fits the psychological profile,” Lennox says, looking stubborn. “This guy has rule-breaker all over him. Look at his family, his upbringing. He was punished for breaking his father’s strict guidelines and now he won’t play by anyone’s rules, including the law.”
“Lots of people were raised with strict parents.” I find myself defending him, even though I don’t know why.
“Yes, but combine that with his need to win, to possess anything he wants…” Lennox shrugs. “His profile speaks for itself. He has motive, he has means, and we can prove he had opportunity. Lots of it.”
“So according to you, all rich men raised by overbearing fathers are destined to become white collar criminals?”
He shrugs. “Not all. But definitely this one.”
My mind races. Lennox hasn’t told me anything I don’t know – and all his evidence so far is circumstantial. A coincidence. It’s certainly not enough for a jury to be convinced. That means he’s not even close to arresting St. Clair.
Why does that make me feel relieved?
“What I’m hearing is a whole lot of theory, and no hard evidence,” I tell him, even though it all seems plenty damning to me.
“That’s where you come in.” He leans in, his brown eyes intense and sharp. “Career criminals like St. Clair are good, smart. Hard to catch. And I’ll tell you something else—I need a break in this case soon or I’ll lose it. That’s the truth. He’ll make a mistake eventually, but by then my bosses will be onto the next thief.”
“Maybe you’ll be able to catch that guy.”
“I’m going to catch this one,” Lennox vows. “You can get close to St. Clair, Grace. I need your help to get the proof we both need.”
“You want me to spy on him?” That’s too far. “I won’t betray him like that.”
“It’s not betrayal! You’d be bringing him to justice.” Lennox looks around to make sure no one heard him.
“But what if he’s innocent?” I still have hope that he is. He has to be.
Lennox smirks, like he knows I’m clutching at straws. “Well, then you won’t find anything, will you? And I’ll have to move on. Everyone wins.”
He’s good. It’s a Catch-22 for me: either tell him to go to hell and then risk getting charged as an accessory to St. Clair’s crimes, or spy on the man I care about in order to prove his innocence.
But I don’t have to play Lennox’s games, I remind myself. I can buy some time, and figure out what I’m really going to do next.
“I shouldn’t have come here,” I say, rising from the chair. “I have to go.”
Lennox sighs. “He’s not innocent, Grace. Trust me, he’s behind these heists.”
That’s the thing, I don’t trust him. I’m not sure if I trust St. Clair fully right now either, but I trust how I feel when we’re together, trust that his sweet caresses are genuine, his generosity not a cover for ulterior motives. “Sometimes instincts are wrong,” I point out.
“They certainly are,” he says as I head for the door.
Outside, I walk along a cobblestone path that winds along the Thames. I watch the grey water lap at the embankment, my mind racing to figure out what to make of this situation.
Is it a mistake to believe in St. Clair? To believe in the man who has made me feel special and safe, who makes me laugh and makes me weak in the knees, the man who