The Collector Page 122

“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 f**ked up. If she hadn’t f**ked 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 f**king thing before you get it.”

Source: www_Novel22_Net

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