Paris Love Match - By Nigel Blackwell Page 0,34

the painting?”

Brunwald gripped her elbow. “You don’t know? It is The Angel, The Angel of the Cross.”

She gasped and her eyes narrowed. “From the Basilica?”

Brunwald held his index finger over his mouth. “It is something we are most keen to keep quiet, my dear. Can you imagine the hurt and anguish that would be caused by the news of this theft, if it were to be confirmed? And all for some lowlife’s tawdry desire for mere money? No, no. This is something I wish to recover at all costs.” He gripped Sidney’s hands. “Something you and I must do, if we are ever to make our country right again, my dear.”

A horn sounded. Sidney noticed the black Mercedes was parked just yards away.

“I must go now. Please do not fail me. With your help, we will rebuild our great country. Once again, we will able to hold our heads high in the world. We will be proud of our history and our achievements.”

He gave her hand, the one holding his phone number, a squeeze, and bowed his head. “Goodbye for now, my fellow comrade.”

In a moment he was in the Mercedes and the car was purring away.

She stood numb as she watched the small plume of vapor from the car’s exhaust trail around the corner and out of sight.

Boucher Brunwald! Boucher Brunwald had talked to her. To her. The man who’d used the army to take control of Elbistonia when the riots had started. The man who had installed himself in the old king’s palace. She swallowed. The man had a brutal reputation. People called him Brunwald the Butcher, but only out of earshot of his secret police. She’d even fled the country because things had become so bad.

But perhaps things hadn’t all been his fault? Riots and political unrest were tearing the country apart until he took control. He had been ruthless, but perhaps he’d had to be? Maybe it had been criminal gangs that stirred up the unrest?

Besides, he was here in Paris to find The Angel, the painting that had hung in the Basilica for five hundred years, and the single greatest symbol of their country. He was here to take it back from the criminals. Him. Personally.

She looked at Brunwald’s phone number. The Angel was going to be returned to the Basilica if she had anything to do with it.

She pulled her phone out. As she entered his number into the address book, she heard her name, half called, half hissed. She looked up. Piers stood in an alleyway across the street, staring at her.

Shit. Her skin prickled. How long had he been standing there?

She rammed the paper into her pocket, and smiled with all her might.

Chapter 15

Piers waved Sidney to cross the road and join him.

Disgust spread across her face as her eyes locked onto Rover. “What the hell’s that?”

“A dog.”

“A dog?”

“Yes, it’s a dog, all right. D-O-G. Dog. Man’s best friend and all that. He got me out of trouble, but now we’re stuck with him.”

“Whoa. You’re stuck with him. I’m not even sure I want to be stuck with you.”

“Thanks very much.”

“No offense, the dog’s probably fine, but I’ve got this whole finding-the-painting-and-not-dying thing going on.”

“And I haven’t? I went in that bloody building. Walked in through a bunch of police and escaped out the back when Inspector Clouseau returned, all on the off chance of finding a clue to a painting that might keep us alive.”

“With a dog.”

“Yes, with a dog.” Rover paced circles around Piers. “He helped me get out without getting caught. We can’t walk him back home. So, we’ll just hang on to him for a while and take him back when all this has quieted down.”

“You mean when we’ve found the painting.”

Rover circled Piers. “Yes, okay. When we’ve found the painting. What’s gotten into you? You’re suddenly all serious about finding the painting.”

“That’s how we sort this mess out, isn’t it?”

Piers untangled the leash from his legs. “Yeah.”

Sidney wrapped her arm through his free arm and they started walking. “So, what did you find?”

Piers took a deep breath. “The place was very tidy and neat.”

“And?”

“Looked like April has another apartment. She had some stuff there, but not much.”

“So that was it? That whole visit to his apartment and all you know is they were clean, tidy, and each visit comes with a free dog.” She wrinkled her nose. “And a smelly one, at that.”

“Leave the dog out of this.”

“I wish I could. This is serious, Piers.”

“All right. I