Red After Dark (Blackwood Security #13) - Elise Noble Page 0,18

look like?”

“Uh, older than the average political aide. I guess in his early fifties? Or maybe his late forties? Most of us are worn out by the time we hit thirty. His hair was thinning, though. Probably due to the stress.”

“What colour was his hair?” Alaric asked.

“Medium brown.”

Alaric glanced at Emmy. Had she had the same thought? Hegler’s description fit Dyson, the last man they’d known to be in possession of Emerald. Alaric had crossed paths with him eight years ago and only lived to tell the tale thanks to Emmy’s shooting skills.

She shrugged. “Could be.”

“Could be what?” Harriet asked.

“That description matches a suspect on our list.”

“Well, great. You want Stéphane to pick him out of a line-up?”

“Unfortunately, we can’t find him. Did anyone notice what vehicle he arrived in?”

“Sorry.” Hegler shook his head again. “I don’t recall seeing a vehicle at all, which is odd now that I think about it. But I could have missed a car, or possibly he came in a cab? Irvine called me into the sunroom right after the gentleman left, and as I said, he was in better spirits than he had been for weeks. We drank tea together, and Irvine told me the future was brighter. I assumed he meant politically.”

“So really, we’re no farther forward than we were before.” Harriet rose to her feet and moved to the window. A mare and foal had come into view, waiting at the fence, ears pricked. “Dammit, this is their home. This is our home. I’ll hand the painting back, of course, but even if they give me the reward rather than throwing me in prison, that’s still only half of the amount I need to save the ranch.”

Alaric got up to join her. “There’s another fifty thousand on offer for Emerald.”

“But I keep telling you, we know nothing about that.”

Emmy took another sip of tea. Secretly, Alaric had always been envious of the way she stayed so calm under pressure. It seemed effortless to her, whereas he’d constantly had to fight to maintain a cool facade.

“Let’s go through the chain of events again,” she said. “A man came to visit the senator. Your belief is at that point, he negotiated an endorsement for Kyla in exchange for a stolen painting. If we apply Occam’s razor, that probably isn’t a bad assumption. The senator then dispatched Stéphane here to pick up Red from London, and at the same time, he released a video praising Devane. And that’s where the theory falls apart. Why would the two sides trust each other? What would have stopped the senator from simply picking up the painting and keeping his mouth shut? The other party could hardly go to the police.”

Good point. “What if he recorded the speech in advance?”

“A possibility. But if that was the case, then what incentive did the other side have to deliver Red? There’s no honour among thieves.”

“Dyson always had a reputation for keeping his word until…you know.”

And the outcome of that day hadn’t been entirely Dyson’s fault. One of Alaric’s “team” had shot first, and then events just spiralled out of control.

“He’s still a bloody criminal.”

“Who’s Dyson?” Harriet asked.

“Our suspect. Have you got any more cookies? I skipped breakfast.”

Hegler headed for the nearest cupboard while Emmy continued.

“So, as I was saying, there had to be a safeguard in place. Stéphane, you mentioned that you called Irvine from the plane?”

“I did. Chocolate chip?”

“Perfect. I bet that your call was the senator’s cue to hand over the recording. Do you know when it was filmed?”

“Neither of us heard a thing, did we, Harry? Frankly, I’m amazed he managed to record it at all. Before he got sick, he used to film his own sound bites for Twitter, but I still had to edit out the pauses and the mumbling.”

“Daddy always was determined. When he set his mind on something…”

“I’ve seen the video,” Emmy said. “Watched the whole thing half a dozen times last night on a big-screen TV. How long was it? Two minutes? And the quality was on point. That thing was made for broadcast. Even if your father managed to film it on his phone, the file must have been two gigabytes, which meant he couldn’t simply email it. He’d have needed to use a file transfer site. Or…”

Alaric saw where she was going with this. “Or our culprit picked it up on a flash drive. You were both away on that day, but someone must have let the visitor in if your