dragged along behind his plane like a banner advertising balding Englishmen.’
‘The difference is, this kind of stuff is what I do.’
‘No, it isn’t! Not any more. You work for the United Nations now, not a stunt troupe. Every time I watch you doing something like this, I almost have a heart attack because . . .’ Her voice fell. ‘Because I’m scared that I’m about to watch you die.’
‘I’m not gonna die, okay?’ he said firmly. ‘Just ’cause I don’t bounce as much as I used to doesn’t mean I’ll smash like Humpty bastard Dumpty if I take a bit of a fall.’
‘There’s a difference between a bit of a fall and a hundredfoot drop off a cliff,’ Nina pointed out. ‘And when people are actively trying to kill you . . . ’
‘You’d think they’d learn,’ Eddie snorted. ‘Anyone who tries to kill me gets fucked up.’
‘Who’s trying to kill you?’ Kit asked, appearing in the doorway.
‘Nobody at the moment, thank God,’ said Nina. She gave Eddie a look that promised the discussion was not over, then turned to the Interpol officer. ‘Have you searched the rest of the house?’
‘Yes. Some of his other artworks are on the CPCU’s list of stolen items, although nothing on the scale of that.’ He indicated the sun disc. ‘And the bag Eddie recovered contained a phone with a list of de Quesada’s contacts around the world – that should be very useful.’ His optimistic look clouded. ‘I just wish it hadn’t cost twelve of the good guys’ lives to get it.’
‘Almost thirteen,’ Nina said quietly. Eddie decided to ignore her.
‘There’s another thing,’ Kit said. ‘Eddie, can you take a look at something?’
‘What is it?’ asked Nina.
‘Just . . . something Eddie might be able to identify with his military experience. Nina, can you photograph the sun disc so we can send pictures to Interpol and the UN, please?’ He handed her a digital camera.
She realised Kit was being evasive, but nevertheless took the camera. ‘What about the khipu?’
‘It’s with de Quesada’s other items. You can examine it as soon as we’ve finished checking them.’
‘Okay . . .’ She exchanged curious looks with her husband as Kit led him from the room.
‘So what’ve you found?’ Eddie asked as they walked down the hall.
‘It was in de Quesada’s office, among his papers.’ Kit stopped outside the arched doorway, glancing almost furtively into the room to make sure the other agents were occupied before taking something from a pocket. ‘Here.’
Eddie took it: a plastic evidence bag, containing a business card. ‘What’s so special . . . ’ he began – then he read it. He said nothing for several moments.
‘It’s . . . it is your father’s, isn’t it?’ Kit asked, breaking the silence.
‘Yeah,’ said Eddie, voice flat. ‘Yeah, it is.’ The card was identical to the one his father had given Nina, which had been taken from her by Stikes. It definitely wasn’t the same card, though, this one pristine and uncreased. ‘Think I’ll have to have words . . . ’
29
Bogotá
Larry Chase poured himself a whisky from the minibar, then sat back in an armchair and took a drink, the warm glow as the spirit went down his throat adding to his sense of satisfaction. Not a bad few days’ work, considering the ridiculously tight schedule. But for the amount of money on offer – which was now in the company’s bank account, as promised – he would have been an idiot to turn it down.
So the clients had hardly been savoury. So what? In his line of work, that was often a given. He was simply providing a service. The seller had an item at point A; the buyer wanted it at point B as quickly – and quietly – as possible. That was all it was, just business.
He had to admit that he was quite proud of himself. Getting something that weighed two tons out of Venezuela, just before the country exploded, and into Colombia had called upon all his years of moving through the more slippery lanes of international shipping, and even necessitated calling in several favours. But he had done it. Which would be good for future business, now that he had proved himself the equal of that fat bastard Stamford West in Singapore. Granted, he wouldn’t be getting any future custom from General Callas, but Francisco de Quesada had certainly seemed impressed . . .
Someone knocked on the door. Larry was surprised; he hadn’t ordered room service, and