Kenzie stashed the katana, figuring the casino staff might have issues on sighting the trusty blade. The pair then locked their handguns and the vase in the glovebox and got lucky by finding that the owner of the car kept his key in the center console. Along with the tracker device. Not clever, but useful for now. Dahl grabbed the key and they left the car cooling, heading for the casino steps.
“Four minutes,” Kenzie said.
“Perfect.”
Inside, they crossed a wide inner sanctum, surrounded by dark wood paneling and golden fittings, to a small, barred booth where they purchased tickets to enter the casino. Past a security check and they were inside a wide room filled with blackjack and roulette tables and lined by two restaurants. Kenzie sauntered over to one, looking for all the world as if she were inspecting the menu, whilst scouring the room for their enemy.
Treacle sat alone at a roulette table, a pile of chips before him.
“Finally,” Kenzie sighed. “He’s getting serious.”
She wandered over, counting the men around the room that were probably part of his entourage. Twelve. Fuck it then. She’d faced worse odds with Dahl.
“Ah, don’t sit, darlin’,” Treacle said. “Pretty ass like that should always be seen.”
“One more sexist comment from you and the odds of landing on red on this table will suddenly be incredibly improved.”
She seated herself next to the slime ball. “Talk.”
“You did good. Real good. Now, Tweacle, listen up ’cause I will say this only once.” He opened his mouth to speak, then took a proper look at her. The oily gaze then switched to Dahl.
“Where’s the vase?”
She desperately wanted to say “In the jam jar, Tweacle”, but kept the comment to herself. “Outside. In the car.”
“Understood. Bags are searched an’ all that. Awight, listen up. Seller’s been at this caper for a decade. Sellin’ this, that and the other. All Inca shit, y’know? An’ when I say shit, I mean only the fuckin’ best. Real trophy pieces. I got ’em all, one way or another. Comes from that Gold Room stash, an’ I been tryin’ to track this mother down but I got zilch. Nothing.”
Kenzie followed as best she could, understanding the general gist of it. Dahl was close enough to listen too, watching over Kenzie’s shoulder.
“Seller’s a clever bastard. Goes by the name Dantanion. Lives in some chateau somewhere with his pets.”
Kenzie envisioned kittens. “His pets?”
“Don’t ask me, Tweacle. Some kinda cult. Has an army, by all accounts. That’s why he needs the dosh regular. Shit, girl, it took me five years to strip away all this info, little bit by little bit. Better be worth it.”
“Oh, I’ll personally make it worth your while.”
“Grrr. Awight then. Cusco in Peru is where all the cover up gets done. It’s as close as I came to the treasure, girl.” Treacle shook his head and gambled on black. “Fifty-fifty chance, eh? So, I got names.” He reeled off more than half-a-dozen names which Dahl, efficient as ever, jotted into a small notebook. “We’re talkin’ major officials there. A judge. Top cops. Ex-cops. A physician. Property developer. Knights of the realm, all.”
“Says the Queen of Egypt,” Dahl commented drily.
“Whatever, dude. I got some major info on that bird too, ever you want it?”
Kenzie blinked despite herself. “Say again.”
“You don’t know? Thought you were a relic smuggler? Shit, it’s about to go down hard all around the world, starting in Egypt. Nasty bastards from all over the world are headed there. Small armies being shipped in, they say.” He shook his head, the blond mane shaking wildly.
“Why the hell—” Dahl began, then clammed up quickly.
“Why? You never heard of the earth’s four corners?? The horsemen? Ancient warriors? Seems it’s the biggest thing yet, mate.”
Kenzie brought the odd tangent to an end. “You gave us the chain? And you say these objects are part of the Gold Room?” She couldn’t keep the disbelief nor excitement out of her voice. She knew the Inca legend off by heart.
“Ah, yeah, now you’re getting hot for me. Or Atahualpa’s gold. But you’d best take a cold shower, baby. This Dantanion’s a clever bastard. Once he gets wind you’re on to him, he’ll switch. Move it all elsewhere.”
Kenzie nodded. “Then why are you telling us so easily?”
Treacle smiled from ear to ear. “ ’Cause I’ll end up with it all anyway. One way or another.” He flicked his last chip onto the table, leaving it where it landed. “And I’m a major twat. I enjoy conflict.”
Kenzie thought they might be the truest words ever to leave Treacle’s mouth. She followed his original statement to its cleanest outcome. “You think the Peruvian government will end up with the artifacts and you’ll be able to acquire them?”
“Better that than all this cloak and dagger, one piece per month bullshit.”
To a criminal it made sense. Kenzie saw the logic. She figured they’d rinsed all they could from Treacle’s dirty laundry, at least on this subject, and pushed the chair back. “You done here?”
“Ready for my reward.”
Kenzie moved away from the table, knowing exactly how Treacle would react and how he would follow her, and felt a jab of relief when Dahl gallantly and purposefully pushed in right behind her. Not that the criminal’s comments particularly bothered her, but it meant she could properly concentrate on what happened next.
Outside the casino.
CHAPTER TWENTY THREE
Sunlight, gleaming cars and swarms of bystanders greeted her eyes as she left the Casino de Monte Carlo. A true assault on the senses. To the right, hundreds of people were seated outside the Café de Paris, whiling the day away. The blue Maserati still sat behind the black AC Cobra, a couple of young photographers angling for the best picture of the two together.
Treacle pressed beside them, uncomfortably close. “Point the way, Tweacle.”
Kenzie saw bad choices everywhere. Bad outcomes. But she walked toward the car and sent a glance over at Dahl.
What to do?
The Swede always stepped up and today was no different. Kenzie knew he’d be factoring the crowd of people nearby and all around. Treacle’s goons walked close by, ignoring everything except what their boss wanted — expendable robots. Kenzie imagined all the options flashing through the Swede’s mind, as they were flashing through hers. The training always stood at the forefront of your mind — didn’t matter how many years had passed since you used it for good. She might be a dirty-faced, broken-down, trod-upon angel, but she was still an angel.
In the end, she saw only one outcome. Dahl walked to the blue Maserati, took out the key and used it to remotely open the passenger door. Dahl reached inside and stared at Treacle.
“I give you this, you walk away. Agreed?”
“ ’Course, Tweacle. ’Course we will.”
Kenzie had never disbelieved someone so much in her entire life. She stopped at the passenger door, which was also unlocked.
Dahl lifted the bag with the vase inside, unzipped it and took the Inca relic out in the street. Treacle swallowed hungrily, eyes alight.
“That’s it. We’re good. Now hand it over.”
Dahl allowed the vase to fall from his hand, watched as it fell toward the concrete and Treacle’s expression changed from greed to terror.
“Noooo!”
Dahl caught the vase on the top of his boot, holding it in place with expert balance. Treacle’s mouth dropped open so that his jaw almost hit the ground.
“For fu… don’t you know what that is? Stop it, Twea… stop it!”
Dahl reached out, caught hold of Treacle’s chin and tilted his face upward. “If you cause trouble. If you try to hurt us or anyone else, I will hunt you down and break you down. Into dust. Do you understand me?”