The Collector, Page 50

  “They were partners, so they both said. As it appears you are. What happened to them is tragic. It was, from what I’ve heard, drug- and alcohol-induced. Perhaps an argument taken to extremes by whoever provided him with the pills he was unfortunately careless with.”

  “And Vinnie?”

  “Ah, the uncle. Again, tragic. An innocent, by all accounts. His death wasteful and unnecessary. It should be clear to you their deaths gained me nothing. I’m a businessman, and I do nothing without an eye to gain or profit.”

  Ash leaned forward. “Jai Maddok.”

  There was a flicker in Vasin’s eyes, but Lila couldn’t be sure if it was surprise or annoyance. “You’ll need to be more specific.”

  “She killed Sage Kendall, my brother, Vinnie and, just days ago, Capelli.”

  “What has that to do with me?”

  “She’s yours. I’m here on your turf,” Ash snapped before Vasin could speak. “I have what you want. You won’t get it by lying to me, by insulting me.”

  “I can assure you I gave no one orders to kill your brother, his woman or his uncle.”

  “And Capelli.”

  “He’s nothing to you, and nothing to me. I offered Oliver forty million dollars for the delivery of the two eggs, twenty each. As I acquired one myself, the twenty stood. He required a down payment—ten percent. I gave him this in good faith. He made the deal, took the down payment, then tried to double his asking price. Greed killed him, Mr. Archer. I did not.”

  “Jai Maddok killed him. She’s on your payroll.”

  “I have hundreds on various payrolls. I can hardly be held responsible for their crimes and indiscretions.”

  “You sent her after Vinnie.”

  “Assigning her to talk to Vincent Tartelli, to ascertain whether or not he knew the location of my property—my property—is hardly sending her after anyone.”

  “Yet he’s dead, and the Fabergé box she took from his shop sits in your collection room.”

  “A gift from an employee. I’m not responsible for how it was acquired.”

  “She went after Lila, threatened her with a knife. Cut her.”

  That was a surprise, Lila realized, as Vasin’s mouth tightened. So Maddok hadn’t told her employer every detail.

  “I’m sorry to hear that. Some employees are overenthusiastic. I trust you weren’t seriously injured.”

  “More scared than hurt.” But Lila allowed her voice to tremble a bit. “If I hadn’t been able to break away and run . . . She’s dangerous, Mr. Vasin. She thought I knew where the egg was, and I really didn’t. She said no one had to know I told her. She’d just take it and disappear, but I was afraid she was going to kill me. Ash.”

  “It’s okay.” Now he put a hand over hers. “She’s never going to touch you again.”

  “I still get the shakes when I think about it.” She poured a glass of wine, made sure he could see the tremor of her hand. “Ash took me to Italy for a few days, but I still get spooked just going out of the house. Even in the house . . . She called and threatened me. I’m scared to answer my phone now because she said she was going to kill me. That it was personal, not a job anymore.”

  “I promised you, we’re going to end it.”

  “Your difficulties with someone in my employ are unfortunate.” A little color had come into his face, a rise of faint pink, of anger. “But again, I’m not responsible. To the goal of ending it, I’ll offer you exactly what I offered Oliver. Twenty million.”

  “You could offer me ten times that, I wouldn’t take it.”

  “Ash, maybe we could—”

  “No.” He rounded on her. “It’s my way. That’s it, Lila. My way on this.”

  “What is your way?” Vasin asked.

  “Let me make something clear. If we don’t walk out of here unharmed and with a deal, my representative is authorized to make an announcement. Those wheels are in motion, and in fact, with the time we’ve wasted, if he doesn’t hear from me in”—he checked his watch—“twenty-two minutes, they’ll roll.”

  “What announcement?”

  “The discovery of one of the lost Imperial eggs, acquired by my brother on behalf of Vincent Tartelli. Already authenticated by leading experts and documented. The egg will be immediately transferred to a secure location, and donated to the Metropolitan Museum of Art—on permanent loan from the Archer family.

  “I don’t want the damn thing,” Ash whipped the words out. “As far as I’m concerned it’s cursed. You want it, you deal. Otherwise, go ahead and try to get it out of the Met. It won’t be my problem either way.”

  “And what do you want if not money?”

  “Jai Maddok.”

  Vasin let out a quick chuckle. “Do you think you can turn her over to the police? That she can be pressured to give evidence against me?”

  “I don’t want her in prison. I want her dead.”

  “Oh, Ash.”

  “Stop it. We’ve been over this. As long as she’s alive, she’s a threat. She said it herself, didn’t she, it’s personal with her. She’s a paid murderer, and she intends to kill you. She killed my brother.” He turned, furious, to Vasin. “And what have the cops done? Hounded me, harassed Lila. First it’s murder-suicide, then a drug deal gone bad. My family’s suffering over this. Then it’s Vinnie, who never hurt anyone. And the cops? They try to tie me into it, tie both of us into it. So screw the cops. You want the egg, you’ve got it. All I want is Jai Maddok.”

  “You expect me to believe you’d commit cold-blooded murder?”

  “Cold-blooded justice. I protect what’s mine. My family, Lila. She’ll pay for putting her hands on my woman, and she won’t have a chance to do it again.”

  “Oh, baby.” This time Lila tried for thrill, poorly masked. “You make me feel so safe, so special.”

  “Nobody touches what’s mine,” Ash said flatly. “And I’ll get justice for my family. It costs you nothing.”

  “On the contrary. It would cost me a very valuable employee.”

  “You’ve got hundreds,” Ash reminded him. “You can get more. One woman,” he continued, and went with Lila’s improv, “who would’ve taken the egg for herself if Lila had known where I put it.”

  Ash drew a photo from his pocket, set it on the table between them. “That was taken in my loft—I imagine you can verify that easily enough as your bitch has been inside. It’s not there anymore, and it’s where you’ll never get it. Clock’s ticking, Vasin. Make the deal, or we walk away. You can see the egg at the Metropolitan Museum of Art like any tourist. It’ll never be in your collection.”

  Vasin drew thin white gloves from his pocket, put them on before picking up the photo.

  Color flooded into his face, a kind of quick, wild joy as he studied the photograph of the Cherub with Chariot.

  “The detail. Do you see the detail?”

  Ash tossed down another photo. “Surprise.”

  “Ah! The clock. Yes, yes, just as I thought. More than exquisite. A miracle of art. This was made for my blood. It belongs to me.”

  “Give me the woman, and it will. I have all the money I need. I have work that fulfills me. I have a woman. I don’t have justice. It’s what I want. Give me what I want, I give you what you want. She fucked up. If she hadn’t fucked it up with Oliver, you’d have it already. You’d have it for the down payment. Instead the cops have her on Vinnie’s surveillance, and have Lila’s statement about the attack. They’ll tie her to you, if they haven’t already. She pays for my brother, or you get nothing. I’ll take a hammer to the fucking thing before you get it.”

  “Ash, stop. You promised you wouldn’t. He won’t.” As if panicked, Lila held out her hands in appeal to Vasin. “He won’t. He’s just upset. He blames himself for Oliver.”

  “Damn it, Lila.”

  “He needs to understand, that’s all, baby. He needs to end it, and fix it. And—”

  “And you, Ms. Emerson. You condone his brand of justice?”

  “I . .
.” She bit her lip. “He needs to be at peace,” she said, obviously reaching. “I . . . I can’t live always being scared she’s going to be there. Every time I close my eyes . . . Then we’re going away. First to Bali, then, maybe, I don’t know . . . wherever we want. But he needs to be at peace, and I need to feel safe.”

  Shiny fish, she reminded herself, and reached for Ash’s hand. “I want whatever Ash wants. And he wants what I want. I mean, I have a career, and he believes in me. Right, baby? He’s going to make an investment in me, and maybe I can get a film deal. Moon Rise could be the next Twilight or Hunger Games.”

  “There’d be blood on your hands.”

  “No.” She jerked straight, eyes wide. “I wouldn’t do anything. I’m just . . . I’m with Ash. She hurt me. I don’t want to live closed up in the loft anymore. No offense, but I don’t want to live the way you do, Mr. Vasin, where we can’t go out and have fun and see people, go places. You’d have what you want, Ash would have what he needs. We’d all just . . . be happy.”

  “If I agreed, how would you do it?”

  Ash looked down at his hands—strong, artist’s hands—then back into Vasin’s eyes, the implication clear. Lila immediately looked away.

  “Please, I don’t want to know. Ash promised we’d never have to talk about it again after this. I just want to put it all out of my mind.”

  “Bloodlines,” Ash said simply. “What would you do to the men who killed your ancestors if you had the chance?”

  “I’d kill them, as brutally as they did mine. I’d kill their families, their friends.”

  “I’m just interested in one. I don’t care about her family, if she has one. Just her. Yes or no, Vasin. Time’s running out. Once it does, neither of us gets what we want.”

  “You propose an exchange. Value for value. When?”

  “As soon as possible.”

  “Such an interesting proposition.” He reached under the arm of the chair. In seconds the door opened to Carlyle.

  “Sir?”

  “Have Jai brought in.”

  “Right away.”

  “Oh.” Lila cringed back in her chair.

  “She won’t touch you,” Ash promised.

  “You have my word on it. A guest must never be harmed in the host’s home. It’s not only bad manners, but bad luck. I will tell you, if this deal is struck and you, like your brother, aren’t true to your word, Ms. Emerson will be more than harmed.”

  Ash bared his teeth. “Threaten my woman, Vasin, and you’ll never fill your trophy case.”

  “Terms, not threats. You should understand what happens to those who renege on a deal, or provide unsatisfactory service. Come,” he said at the brisk knock on the door.

  Jai wore black—snug pants, fitted shirt, tailored jacket. Her eyes gleamed at Lila. “How interesting to see you here. Both of you. Mr. Vasin told me you were visiting today. Should I show them . . . out, sir?”

  “We haven’t quite finished. I’m told you and Ms. Emerson have met.”

  “A brief encounter in the market.” Jai skimmed her gaze down. “You’re wearing better shoes today.”

  “And again, another encounter you didn’t include in your report. Where was this, Ms. Emerson?”

  Lila only shook her head, stared at the floor.

  “In Chelsea,” Ash said. “A couple of blocks from the gallery that shows my work. You held her at knifepoint.”

  “She exaggerates.”

  “You failed to mention this encounter to me.”

  “It was so inconsequential.”

  “I hit you. I punched you in the face.” Lila let the show of bravery dissolve as Jai stared at her. “Ash.”

  “I count on details, Jai.”

  “My apologies, sir. An oversight.”

  “Yes, an oversight. As your phone call to Ms. Emerson was, I’m sure, an oversight. Mr. Archer and I have reached an agreement as regards my property. Your assignment in this regard has concluded.”

  “As you wish, Mr. Vasin.”

  “You failed to do as I wished, Jai. This is very disappointing.”

  He drew out the Taser. Her reaction was swift, the weapon under her jacket nearly in her hand. But the shock hit, and shuddering with it, she fell. From his seat, he gave her a second jolt, then with absolute calm pressed under the chair arm again.

  Carlyle opened the door. Her gaze flicked down to Jai, rose again impassively. “Have her taken out and secured. Be certain she’s relieved of all weapons.”

  “Of course.”

  “I’ll show our guests out. Ms. Emerson, Mr. Archer.” Lila’s legs wobbled. She felt as if she was walking over a layer of mud as they crossed the pristine floor, descended the graceful curve of stairs.

  “Tonight would be best,” Vasin said conversationally. “We’ll say two A.M. A quiet spot, don’t you agree? Considering Jai’s skills, the sooner the exchange is made, the better for all.”

  “Your time, my place. My representatives meet yours, two A.M., Bryant Park.”

  “Considering the value, it’s best if you make the exchange personally. The temptation for a hireling to walk away with the prize would be great.”

  “Maddok’s of equal value to me. Will you bring her, personally?”

  “Her only use to me now is your desire for her.”

  “The egg’s only use to me is yours for it,” Ash countered. “It’s down to business, nothing more. Once I have what I want, I intend to forget you and the egg exist. You’d be wise to do the same about me and mine.” Ash checked his watch again. “You’re cutting it close, Vasin.”

  “Two A.M., Bryant Park. My representative will contact me at two-oh-five. If the egg isn’t delivered, as agreed, it won’t go well for you. Or yours.”

  “Bring Maddok, and it’s done.”

  He took Lila’s arm, walked out. One of the security guards stood beside his car. He handed Lila her purse, opened the passenger door and remained silent as Lila got in.

  She didn’t speak, barely breathed, until they were through the gates and speeding along the road beside the high wall.

  “You need to make that call, and I . . . Could you pull over for a minute? I feel a little sick.”

  When he veered to the shoulder, she shoved the door open, stumbled out. She bent over, closed her eyes as her head spun—and felt his hand on the small of her back.

  “Take it easy.”

  “Just need some air.” Something fresh, something clean. “He’s worse than she is. I didn’t think there could be anything worse, but he is. I don’t think I could’ve stood another five minutes in that room, in that place. It was like suffocating.”

  “You could’ve fooled me.” But he could see it now that she’d let down her guard. The light tremors running through her body, the pallor of her face when she lifted it.

  “He would have killed her himself, right there, right in front of us, if it would’ve gotten him the egg. And he could’ve walked away, snapped a finger for some servant to clean up the mess.”

  “She’s the least of my worries.”

  “We would never have walked out of there if you didn’t have what he wants. I know that. I know that.”

  “He’ll keep his word. For now.”

  “For now,” she agreed. “Did you see his face when you showed him the pictures? He might’ve been looking at God.”

  “It’s one of his.”

  She let herself lean against him, closed her eyes again. “You’re right. He’s not crazy, not the way I imagined, anyway. He believes everything he said, about the Romanovs and bloodlines. All those beautiful things, placed so precisely behind glass. Just for him. Just to own. Like the house, his castle, where he can be tsar, surrounded by people who’ll do whatever he tells them to do. Any one of those pretty boxes means more to him than the people who do his bidding. And the eggs, they matter most of all.”

  “We’ll finish it, and he’ll have nothing.”

  “That would be worse than death for him. I’m glad. I’m gla
d it’ll be worse for him. When he put on those stupid gloves, I wanted to lean over and sneeze in his face, just to get a reaction.