That got my attention, and I sat up straight. "What do you mean, bored?"
"Okay, look. If everything they say is correct about him... He's what, maybe sixty? He probably can't heist things anymore because he's older. Probably less mobile. And I haven't heard anything about a good Theroux heist in a while. He always claims his heists, you know. Maybe he's just tired, or bored, or… whatever, I don't know. But the point is, he has been pretty quiet for the last five years at least."
"You think this guy could be an imposter?"
"I mean, that guy kind of looks like he could be Theroux. He's the right age. We can run him through a facial app, but it’s likely that's not Theroux but an actor. Chances are he's dicking with you. But if he says he has the painting, a missing painting at that, an important one, and he wants you to come and get it, it's an invitation from Francois Theroux. You can't ignore it."
"I fully intend to ignore it."
"Well, you can if you want. But there's a reason he's sending it to you. He could get a lot showier with his request, and maybe that is not what the London Lords need right now, considering there was just a whole, you know, heist and coup d’état. You don't want him connecting the dots, yeah?"
I frowned. "Right. So what do you suggest we do, then?"
Telly shrugged. "I don't know. I'm not going to tell you to mess with him. But I do think that maybe he wants to wage a battle with someone. The problem is you don't want to get involved in that."
No. No, we did not. "Can we at least trace where the video came from?"
"Sure. We can find out where the last relay was sent from, but I promise you he won't be there."
I ran my hands through my hair. "Then what the fuck am I supposed to do, Tell?"
"I don't know.” She tossed the pillow aside. “Have you considered actually taking him up on his offer and helping him with whatever it is he wants?"
"I feel like it should be clear and apparent that we're not taking some random thief's bait."
"Okay, let me ask, then. Why would you even consider it?"
"Because he’s offered Jameson on a platter. And he threatened to expose the Van Linsted heist if we don’t comply."
She whistled low. "Jesus. Well the bait is tempting. The blackmail I’m less fond of. And you can almost guarantee Theroux has baited other people as well."
I leaned forward in my seat and planted my elbows on my knees. "What do you mean, a guarantee?"
"Guys like this, they live for the chase. You want the best on your team because he undoubtedly will bring his A game. What does he want from you specifically?"
I had to fight my natural instincts. What I wanted to do was keep things close to the vest until I knew more, but to find those things out, I needed her help.
“He’s not told us yet.”
Her delicate brows furrowed. “What, so this is some kind of blind-faith blackmail?”
“See, the operative word there being blackmail.”
“So what’s the play?”
That was a very good question. One I wasn’t sure of the answer to just yet. “Well for starters, the goal stays the same. Jameson is our target, so I need to gather more intel. Getting distracted is a bad idea. And Theroux is no friend of ours, so we need to keep an eye on him as well.”
“We might also try to see if Lucas knows Theroux. Honor among thieves and all that.”
“Yeah, we talked about that, and Ben is going to call him.”
She shrugged. "Just doing my part. See? That was easy. And we didn't even have to bust out any of your fancy processors. Just good old-fashioned brain power."
"Well, thank you.” I tipped my imaginary hat. “Looks like we'll be needing more of your brain power, because I have every intention of catching Theroux."
"Oh my God, do you understand how many law enforcement officers have tried that?"
"Does that matter? He's messing with our business. He claims to have the lost Kruger painting.” I shrugged. “I don't like it. I want answers."
"You might have to get used to the fact that you're not going to get them. Theroux's a ghost. I don't think for a minute that we will figure out who he is unless he allows it."
I gave her a wolfish smile. "And I think you underestimate me."
Nyla
My father had always been inventive when describing my personality. He liked to use words like impulsive, bulldog, one-track mind. Words he never used to describe me were liar or disloyal.
I did have a tendency to get myself into trouble though, and I wouldn't let things go until I had a clear answer. And if I didn't have a clear answer, that meant the fight continued.
But even I wasn't so stupid as to try and hold back the information about the mysterious phone call from my father. I always did the right thing. Even if it was to my detriment.
Which was why as I peered through file after file on my jewelry theft ring, I couldn’t stop thinking about the call.
I was so focused on what to do, even though I knew the answer to that, that I almost missed a glaring lead. I sat up, quickly adjusting my reading glasses. Most of my leads thus far had been dead ends, but this one could give me something to unravel.
Three years earlier, the Royal Museum in Monaco had encountered a nearly perfect heist that involved replacing the originals with forgeries before a major exhibit featuring part of a new collection sent to them on loan from the
