“Sorry if I’m lecturing,” she said sweetly. “But you deserve it, Mr. Lucan. You actually thought I was the one behind the illegal arms sales. How could you believe such a thing?”
Max fixed her with a considering expression. “Maybe because you ran?”
“I ran because I found those files on my computer and I knew I’d been set up.”
“You should have come directly to me.”
“Oh, yeah, like you would have believed me instead of Julian.”
“And maybe I liked you for the dealer, because of all the people I’ve got working in Department A, you’re the one with the talent to pull it off,” Max said.
“So my talent made me look good for the part of the bad guy, is that it?”
“It was certainly a major factor.”
She thought about that. “Okay, that’s a much better reason.”
Fallon’s eyes gleamed with amusement but he said nothing.
“There was also the fact that you were a relatively new hire,” Max continued. “You’d been here less than six months. And when I pulled your personnel file, I got a real queasy feeling.”
She was incensed. “What was wrong with my file? It was perfect.”
“A little too perfect,” Max said. “Trying to track down your previous employers or close relatives turned out to be impossible. It was as if you were a ghost.”
“Good description,” Fallon said. “I ran into the same problem when I hired her.”
Isabella gave him her most repressive glare.
“On the other hand, Garrett and Phillips had been working for me for a few years and had an impressive track record,” Max continued. “In addition, they were very convincing. When Caitlin vanished under suspicious circumstances and Garrett made a production out of finding the record of the last deal with Sloan, I gave Garrett everything he needed to track you down.”
“All he cared about was recovering the mirror,” Isabella said. “After that he probably planned to pull the plug on his career at Lucan and disappear with the artifact.”
“I may have to rethink my employee benefits program,” Max said. “Clearly I’m not offering a competitive salary package. I’ve lost three high-level talents this month. You, Phillips and Garrett.”
Isabella glared. “That is not amusing, Mr. Lucan.”
“You have my most sincere apologies,” Max said.
“Fat lot of good that would have done me if I hadn’t had J&J watching my back.”
Fallon stirred ever so slightly. “I think it would be a good idea if we all stay focused here. Is there a drug lord involved in this thing?”
“No,” Max said. “Looks like Julian embellished that story a bit. But a certain black-ops agency did pick up the rumors of the artifact and asked Lucan to try to get it off the market.”
“Well, Julian certainly had a client,” Isabella said. “And I doubt very much that it was a spy agency.”
“We’re still waiting for him to come out of the woodwork,” Max assured her. “Don’t worry, if and when he shows up, we’ll grab him.”
“Surely you have a list of possible suspects,” she said.
“We do,” Max said. “We’re checking it, trust me.”
“For heaven’s sake, how many collectors would be interested in old weapons infused with paranormal properties?”
Max and Fallon looked at each other. Fallon shrugged. So did Max.
Isabella sighed. “Okay, more than a handful, I take it.”
“You’d be surprised,” Max said.
“We’ve got two problems,” Fallon said. “We need to find both the client and whoever was supplying Phillips and Garrett with the para-weapons.” He looked at Max. “I take it that you didn’t come up with anything helpful on Sloan’s computer?”
“My people are still digging but so far nothing,” Max said. “Sloan was a very careful man. Which makes me wonder who got to him.”
“Given the timing of his death, I’m thinking whoever was supplying him with the para-guns was the one who shot him,” Fallon said.
“Really?” Isabella asked, fascinated.
Max frowned. “Hadn’t thought about that possibility.”
“But why would the person who was obtaining the weapons want to ice the broker?” Isabella asked. “And why kill him before the mirror sale was completed. Seems to me the supplier needed Sloan just as much as Caitlin and Julian did.”
“That may have changed,” Fallon said. “Arms dealing is a dangerous line of work. Lot of tough competition. We can assume that the supplier concluded that he no longer needed Sloan and that the broker had become a liability.”
“Sloan was the one person with a direct connection to the supplier,” Max said. “With the broker out of the picture, there is no one who can identify the person who provided the weapons to him. I agree with you, Fallon. Sloan’s death was no coincidence. The supplier was severing all connections in preparation for firing up a new business arrangement.”
“But what about the mirror?” Isabella said. “It was worth a lot of money and it was good as lost in the Vantara mansion.”
“Looks like in the grand scheme of things, the mirror was no longer important,” Fallon said. “The loss of the artifact was minor collateral damage.”
Max leaned back in his chair. “Which makes you wonder what the supplier’s new business arrangements look like.”
“Yes,” Fallon said. “It does. It also makes you wonder what he plans to sell next.”
Isabella shivered. “Whoever it is must think he can make a lot more money with his new partners than he could with Caitlin and Julian.”
Fallon contemplated Max. “Keeping an eye on Garrett and identifying the client who commissioned him to acquire the mirror is your problem. You know the paranormal black market better than anyone, including me. The supplier, however, is a J&J problem.”
“I agree,” Max said. “The Quicksilver Mirror came out of an Arcane museum. It probably wasn’t the first artifact that Phillips and Garrett got from that source.”
“Got a hunch someone has been cleaning out the museum basements for a while,” Fallon said. “Easy to see how it could happen. The Society has been collecting for more than four hundred years. Like most museums, most of the collection is in storage. Who would notice if occasionally a couple of items went missing?”
“I’ll leave the problem of identifying the supplier to you, Jones.” Max sat forward. “Been meaning to ask you, where did you get the black eye? You look like you fell off a cliff.”
Fallon touched his ribs and winced. “Feels like it, too.”
Max opened the bottom drawer of his desk and took out a bottle of whiskey. “Try some of this stuff. Good for what ails you.”
“Thanks.” Fallon eyed the bottle. “I believe I will.”
“Hold it right there.” Isabella held up a hand. “Is this some kind of male bonding ritual?”
“It’s what colleagues in the investigation business do occasionally when they are working a case together,” Max said.
“Got it.” Isabella smiled. “Pour me a glass as long as you’re at it. I’m in the investigation business, too, remember?”
Fallon smiled his rare smile. “Not likely to forget.”
FALLON’S PHONE RANG just as they walked out the front door of the office tower. Isabella waited while he took the call.
“Dargan. What have you got for me? Right. No surprise. I thought that might be it. You’re done. Send us the bill. What do you mean, who is us? I’ve got a new full-time assistant and investigator. I’m not the only one in the office anymore.”
He closed the phone.
