Read Rogue Angel 51: The Pretender's Gambit Online
Authors: Alex Archer
Chapter 17
Annja sat at Detective Joe Broadhurst’s desk in the homicide bull pen and worked on her tablet, searching through the archaeology websites she’d used in her search for the elephant. With all the carnage that had been found in Onoprienko’s apartment, she, Klykov and Serov had been immediately taken into custody. Not arrested. At least, not yet, but judging from how upset Bart had been—as well as his bosses—that could happen soon.
She glanced around. Bart still hadn’t come back from the investigation at the crime scene. He hadn’t been happy. They’d started out with two murders that morning, or last night depending on perspective, and now they were going to be in double digits if a couple of guys died in the hospital as expected.
Annja wished she could help, but trying to help had brought them to this place. She needed to find that elephant and figure out what this was all about.
Onoprienko had apparently gotten away scot-free.
How can a man dressed in underwear covered in bright red hearts just disappear
? But this was New York and stranger things than that had happened.
She’d gotten a few hits on the elephant posting.
HEY ANNJA,
SAW YOUR ELEPHANT. LOOKS REALLY COOL. I’M SURE YOU’VE NOTICED THAT IT’S PROBABLY INDIAN IN ORIGIN. SMALL EARS? IF THIS IS AN ARTIFACT, AS YOU SEEM TO THINK, AND IT’S REALLY OLD, MAYBE IT HAS SOMETHING TO DO WITH PLINY THE ELDER’S QUOTE ABOUT THE ELEPHANT BEING THE ONLY ANIMAL NEARLY AS SMART AS A MAN. ALEXANDER WAS TRAINED BY THE GREEKS, AND HE CONQUERED A LOT OF TERRITORY WHERE INDIAN ELEPHANTS WOULD APPEAR. MAYBE LOOK IN THOSE AREAS? OR AT ALEXANDER?
Annja wrote a quick note of thanks, but knew the subject matter was too broad. She’d already thought of those possibilities. She needed something that would narrow down the hunt, give her more of a true target. She moved on through the list.
HEY, DID YOU EVER READ “THE TOWER OF THE ELEPHANT” BY ROBERT E. HOWARD? I DID. IT HAD AN ELEPHANT IN IT UNTIL (SPOILER ALERT) CONAN KILLED IT TO SAVE IT FROM BEING TRAPPED BECAUSE IT WAS A BEING FROM ANOTHER WORLD TRAPPED BY AN EVIL WIZARD. I LOVE YOUR SHOW! JUSTIN (AGE 10). ADDRESS WITHHELD.
HEY JUSTIN. I DID READ THAT STORY AND LIKED IT A LOT. THANKS FOR WRITING.
The missive wasn’t helpful, but it did make Annja feel better. She’d done school visits to promote her books and the television show (something Kristie Chatham had done exactly once, a high school, and was blacklisted from doing so again) and enjoyed the curiosity kids exhibited without holding back. Curious minds were awesome to engage with.
The next entry was from [email protected]
EVER HEARD OF GANESHA? THE GOD OF WISDOM IN THE HINDU PANTHEON? EVERYBODY LOVES THAT ELEPHANT. HE HAS A HUMAN BODY AND AN ELEPHANT HEAD.
ONE VERSION OF THE STORY GOES LIKE THIS. THE GUY WAS SUPPOSED TO HAVE BEEN CREATED BY PARVATI, THE CONSORT OF SIVA, WHEN SHE WAS LONELY. SHE WANTED A SON BUT SIVA DIDN’T WANNA BE NO BABY DADDY, SO SHE COVERED HERSELF IN OIL, ROLLED IN DIRT, THEN RUBBED THAT OFF AND SHAPED THE RESULTING MUD PIE INTO A KID. ONLY HE WAS FULL GROWN.
SHE TOLD THE KID/YOUNG GUY TO GUARD HER HOME. THEN SIVA CAME BACK AND THE KID WOULDN’T LET HIM IN HIS OWN HOUSE. SO SIVA WHIPPED OUT HIS SWORD AND LOPPED OFF THE GUY’S HEAD, NEVER KNOWING HIS WIFE MADE HIM.
WHEN PARVATI FOUND OUT WHAT HAPPENED, SHE GOT ALL UP IN SIVA’S GRILL AND TOLD HIM IF HE DIDN’T BRING THE GUY BACK TO LIFE, SHE WAS GONNA MAKE HIS LIFE MISERABLE. SO SIVA NEEDED A HEAD.
HIS SERVANTS WENT AND FOUND AN ELEPHANT, KILLED IT AND TOOK ITS HEAD. DON’T KNOW WHY SIVA JUST DIDN’T KILL ONE OF THE SERVANTS AND TAKE THEIR HEAD. THAT’S WHAT I WOULDA DONE.
ANYWAY, HE STICKS THIS ELEPHANT’S HEAD ON THE GUY AND BRINGS HIM BACK TO LIFE. AND THAT’S WHERE GANESH COMES FROM.
THANKS, BUDDHA. YEP, I’VE HEARD ABOUT THAT ONE. SADLY IT DOESN’T FIT WITH WHAT I’VE GOT GOING ON HERE.
Annja flicked her finger to move on to the next post.
HELLO ANNJA
PLEASED AM I TO BE MAKING YOUR ACQUAINTANCE! PERHAPS YOU COULD HELP ME. IN MY COUNTRY, BEFORE ARAB SPRING, I WAS A PRINCE. UNFORTUNATELY, I WAS DRIVEN OUT OF MY PALACE AND LEFT $2.3 MILLION EUROS IN THE BANK. NO ONE BUT ME CAN TOUCH THIS MONEY, THOUGH. I NEED ASSISTANCE IN RECOVERING THESE FUNDS AND I WOULD BE WILLING TO GIVE YOU A PERCENTAGE. COULD YOU HELP ME OUT? HUMBLY YOURS, PRINCE SEMMI.
Even though the posting was spam, it still made Annja smile.
She deleted the post and blocked the sender.
DID YOU KNOW THAT ELEPHANTS COMMUNICATE THROUGH ULTRASOUND? I DIDN’T UNTIL I STARTED LOOKING AROUND ELEPHANT STUFF. THEY KIND OF “FEEL” WORDS AT EACH OTHER. WOW! THAT’S REALLY AWESOME!
PRETTY AMAZING, ISN’T IT, TURTLEGIRL?
Annja kept reading but wasn’t holding out much hope. The subject matter was too broad, and maybe elephants were too interesting, as well.
The next post was from [email protected] and addressed history.
COULD THAT ELEPHANT HAVE A TIE TO CHARLEMAGNE, THE KING OF THE FRANKS? MAYBE AN HEIRLOOM PASSED DOWN THROUGH A FRENCH FAMILY? SUPPOSEDLY HARUN AR-RASHID, THE FIFTH ARAB ABBASID CALIPH, GAVE AN ELEPHANT TO CHARLEMAGNE BACK IN THE NINTH CENTURY. THAT WAS A LONG TIME AGO THOUGH.
I’LL CHECK INTO THAT AND LET YOU KNOW, ZIGGY. RIGHT NOW I’M STILL IN THE FACT-GATHERING STAGE.
The next post took a tack that Annja hadn’t thought about. It didn’t help her solve the puzzle, but it was interesting nevertheless.
I DIDN’T KNOW THIS BEFORE I STARTED LOOKING, BUT THERE ARE A LOT OF PICTURES OF NOAH AND THE FLOOD THAT HAVE ELEPHANTS IN THEM. MAYBE ARTISTS JUST LIKED TO DRAW ELEPHANTS, BUT YOU KNOW THEY WERE DEFINITELY SHOWING SOME LOVE.
THAT’S INTERESTING, PAINTERLAD. YOU’VE OPENED UP A WHOLE NEW LINE OF POSSIBILITIES. *SIGH* THANKS FOR THE HELP!
COULD THE ELEPHANT BE PART OF A SET? THE FIRST THING THAT CAME TO MIND WHEN I SAW THE ELEPHANT WAS THAT IT MUST BE A PART OF SOMETHING ELSE.
I KNOW YOU’VE PROBABLY HEARD OF THE COSMIC EGG THAT HATCHED AND CREATED THE SUN, BUT THE STORY GOES ON TO SAY THAT THE GOD BRAHMA TOOK THE SHELLS AND CHANTED UP AIRIVATA, THE ELEPHANT SHIVA WOULD RIDE INTO BATTLE.
THE POSSIBILITY OF A SET EXISTS, BUT I DON’T KNOW YET. THANKS!
Annja wanted to believe there was only the one piece, but she had to admit that it was certainly possible there were more. She’d seen Indian chess sets that featured elephants as rooks, but never this particular style of elephant.
The next letter caught her attention and pumped up her hope even though she knew it was a long shot. She would take a long shot now, though, because she didn’t have anything else.
Unless Onoprienko turned up somewhere.
HI ANNJA. I THOUGHT ABOUT NOT WRITING, BUT THAT LOOKS A LOT LIKE AN ELEPHANT I REMEMBER SEEING AT THE HOUSE OF A FRIEND OF MINE. I WAS JUST A KID THEN, AND WE’RE NOT REALLY FRIENDS ANYMORE BECAUSE STUFF HAPPENS AND YOU MOVE ON. SHE SAID THAT HER GREAT-GREAT-GRANDFATHER OR SOMETHING CAME FROM RUSSIA. ACCORDING TO HER, HER GREAT-GREAT-GRANDFATHER STOLE IT FROM CATHERINE THE GREAT.
WE WERE LIVING IN BRIGHTON AT THE TIME, SO MAYBE THAT’S SOMETHING. MY DAD GOT A JOB IN SEATTLE A FEW YEARS AFTER THE PICTURE WAS TAKEN, AND THAT’S BEEN NINE YEARS AGO.
IT’S PROBABLY NOT THE SAME STATUE, BUT I ATTACHED A PICTURE OF US AND YOU CAN SEE THAT THE ELEPHANT IN MY PICTURE LOOKS A LOT LIKE YOURS.
GOOD LUCK!
Annja studied the attached jpeg and had to agree that the elephant in the photo looked a lot like the one she’d seen on Benyovszky’s computer. The jpeg was small and she couldn’t blow it up much, but she wanted to.
In the picture, two girls that might have been eleven or twelve stood at a desk where an old man sat. Several other presumably made Russian things—coins, paper money, pewter replicas of buildings with spires and onion domes—were spread over the table. The girls held the elephant, displaying it proudly.
Excitement stirred in Annja as it nearly always did when she started getting closer to a goal.
Annja wrote back to [email protected].
HEY RACHEL,
YOUR ELEPHANT CERTAINLY DOES RESEMBLE MINE. CAN YOU GIVE ME MORE INFORMATION ABOUT THE FAMILY THAT HAD THE ELEPHANT? AND PERHAPS SEND ME A LARGER JPEG? I’D LIKE TO BLOW UP THE IMAGE.
BEST,
ANNJA
She saved the file to her hard drive and the Cloud in folders she’d created for gathering news stories, pictures and anything else she came across in her search.
Annja kept reading, but most of the next entries were repetitive. No one out there seemed to know anything more about the elephant than she did.
The results could have been discouraging. Annja chose to remain focused on what she was doing.
An hour later, Bart returned and he looked even more stressed than before. He walked over to Annja and shook his head.
“What are you doing at Joe’s desk?”
Annja chose to ignore the combative tone. She understood how frustrated Bart felt. She was frustrated, too.
“Detective Broadhurst said I could use his desk while the two of you were gone.”
“You were taken into custody. You should be in a cell with your gunslinging buddies.”
Annja made herself be calm. This wasn’t Bart talking. This was frustration and lack of sleep. “Do you want to lock me up?”
The question, asked so casually, stopped Bart in his tracks. He tried to speak, couldn’t, then ran a hand over his face and let out a sigh. Everyone in the detective bull pen was watching with avid interest.
“We’re not going to do this here,” Bart said. “Come with me.” He turned and started off.
Annja thought about ignoring the command and sitting, but she didn’t because she knew that wouldn’t get her any closer to getting out of the police station and back on the hunt.
Provided she could pick up the trail again. She packed her computer away in her backpack, slung it over her shoulder and followed Bart.
Chapter 18
“What were you thinking, Annja?” Bart stood on the other side of the room with his arms folded across his chest. He looked tired and frazzled.
“What was I thinking about going to Onoprienko’s?” Annja tried to concentrate on the fact that Bart was her friend and not take offense at his confrontational manner. But it was difficult.
“Yes.”
“I was thinking maybe I could help you find Benyovszky’s killer.”
Bart took in a breath and let it out. “If you had a lead, you should have come to me.”
“I didn’t know if Onoprienko murdered Benyovszky. Leonid Klykov is the one who thought that. And I still don’t know if Onoprienko killed anyone. Other than the guys I read about him killing.”
“And you just took Klykov’s word and went after Onoprienko?”
“I didn’t have anything else to follow up on. Klykov sounded convincing.”
“You asked Klykov to go with you?”
“No. Going with me was part of the deal he made with me for his help. He wouldn’t give me the address. I think he was trying to look out for me. Onoprienko just got out of prison a few weeks ago after serving a second-degree murder sentence.” Annja thought Bart should go easier on her and be more focused on the real criminal.
“I know that. I’m a cop. You should have called me as soon as you had Onoprienko’s name.”
Annja shot Bart a look. “I should have called you?”
“Yes! You should have called me.”
“Take a minute. Think about how that would have gone over with Klykov. Asking him about Benyovszky was one thing, but he’d have drawn the line at inviting the police along.”
“If we’d had the name, Klykov wouldn’t have gone.”
Annja looked at Bart, wondering if he was even listening to himself. “That wouldn’t have worked.”
“Ruffling Klykov’s feathers isn’t my problem. If you’d called me, Joe and I could have picked up Onoprienko for questioning.”
“On what grounds?”
“Onoprienko is a convicted felon. Once a guy’s in the system like that, I have a lot of latitude in how I deal with them. I don’t need a reason to check up on Onoprienko. I could have pulled him in anytime I wanted to. That’s the law. He gave up a lot of rights when he killed those two guys. And Joe and I think Onoprienko is responsible for some other open unsolved cases we have. Getting a search warrant for that apartment, getting to look at evidence before it was compromised, might have helped with some of the other cases Onoprienko is connected to. If I’d known Onoprienko knew Benyovszky, I would have already had him in here for questioning. So, I repeat, why didn’t you call me?”
“I thought about it,” Annja admitted. “I chose not to.”
“Why?”
“Because you’d have cut me out of this.”
“You bet I would have.” Bart was more angry than Annja had ever seen him. “I started out with one body last night. We picked up another one that may be related to the first murder. And somebody killed the two guys we thought had killed Benyovszky and that guy across the street. We were looking at four homicides. That shoot-out the Trigger Twins pulled has put nine more bodies in the morgue we have to work. And it’s not the work I’m concerned with. It’s the fact that you were hanging out with those two killers.”
“Leonid and Pitor were only defending themselves. And me.”
“Now you’re on a first-name basis with these guys?”
“Bart, I could tell you I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about Onoprienko when I learned about him, and I am, but that’s not going to undo this.”
“No, it’s not.” Bart ran a hand through his hair.
“Then this is where we start.”
Bart rolled his neck on his shoulders.
“Have you found Onoprienko?” Annja asked, hoping to change the direction of the conversation.
Bart’s eyes narrowed. She felt like most of his anger wasn’t directed at her. She just happened to be the one he could get to at the moment. Klykov and Serov had already lawyered up.
“Annja, this is not your case.”
Stung, Annja clamped down on her frustration. In all the years she had known Bart, they’d never gone head-to-head over something. They’d had disagreements and tension occasionally, but that was more from external situations rather than something directly between them.
This was different, and she wondered if their friendship would weather the storm. She didn’t want to lose it, and she didn’t want it permanently damaged. Bart was an important person in her life.
“You invited me into this,” Annja said in a neutral tone.
“Not to team up with guys like Klykov and Serov. Do you realize how lucky you are that you’re not one of those bodies cooling in the morgue?”
“That’s the thing, though. I’m not. I’m fine.”
“I’m aware that I got you involved in this, but this investigation wasn’t supposed to get all crazy like it has. You were supposed to come in, look at a few things, give us some insight and go home.”
“I couldn’t just stop with so many questions unanswered. You know me. And you know that about me.”
Bart shifted, loosening up a little. “I know. I see how you get when you’re chasing one of those artifacts that take you away so often. I should have known that you’d do the same thing with this.”
“If Nguyen Rao hadn’t shown up at the diner, I might have walked away. But when Nguyen did, and he was asking about the elephant, I knew that something weird was going on. I don’t walk away from stuff like that.”
“I get it. I do.” Bart paused. “I just saw you almost get killed this morning at the diner, then I hear about this shoot-out in Onoprienko’s apartment, and I go over there to have a look, and I honestly don’t know how you got out of there alive. That apartment and hallway looked like a war zone.”
“I did get out of there, Bart. That’s the important part. I did get out of there alive. Leonid and Pitor helped. I could have taken care of myself. And to be honest, I’ve been in tighter scrapes than that while I’ve been out of the country.”
For a moment the silence stretched between them. On the other side of the closed door, detectives talked to each other and made phone calls, a drunken woman had a screaming fit and had to be taken away and footsteps passed by.
Annja spoke first, hoping to dodge the personal issue between them. Bart felt responsible for her safety, and he felt like she’d betrayed him by joining forces with Klykov and Serov. She knew she probably would have felt the same if she’d been in his shoes. But he wasn’t responsible for her and she wasn’t going to let him be. She also wasn’t going to be ordered around.
“Did Onoprienko murder Benyovszky?” she asked.
Stubbornly, Bart didn’t answer.
After waiting for a full minute, Annja picked up her backpack and started for the door.
“You can’t just walk out of here,” Bart protested.
“Yes, I can.” Annja turned to look at Bart. “Unless you plan on arresting me.”
“I could.” The challenge hung heavy in his words.
“Okay, that’s what you’ll have to do.” Annja knew she couldn’t back down. If she did, she might evade the argument now, but their relationship would never be the same. They had to each stand on their own and go the distance.
“No.” Bart straightened. “That’s not what I want to do.”
Annja waited.
“Onoprienko is still in the wind.” Bart’s tone turned softer and he sounded more tired. “We don’t know where he’s gone. We found a hammer at his house that the ME’s office says might be a fit for the weapon that killed Benyovszky. We’ll know more when we get the report back from forensics. One of the assistants in the ME’s office has already confirmed that Benyovszky’s blood was on the weapon. Onoprienko tried to wash it off, but you can never completely get rid of blood.”
“Then he’s your killer. You can close the case on Benyovszky’s murder.” Annja knew she couldn’t rest until she’d tracked down the elephant or believed the piece was unrecoverable.
Calapez and Nguyen Rao were chasing after the elephant; it had to mean something, and if they knew what it was, Annja felt confident that she could learn what was going on, as well.
“Maybe we can close that investigation. We still have to be able to prove that hammer is the weapon that was used to kill Benyovszky and then put that hammer in Onoprienko’s hand doing that. The same way you verify that an artifact is what you say it is, that it was made in a certain place at a certain time by a certain person.”
“Certificate of authenticity.”
“Right. That. We still have that to do. But Joe and I are pretty confident Onoprienko’s the murderer. We just have to find him. You don’t suppose Klykov has any more ideas about where Onoprienko is, do you?”
“You’d have to ask him. He didn’t mention anywhere else to me on the ride over, and we haven’t exactly had time to talk since everything occurred.”
Bart grinned crookedly. “Asking him questions isn’t going to be possible.
I
am not one of Klykov’s favorite people right now.”
“Is he still here?”
“Yeah. I haven’t cut him loose yet, but I’m going to have to. His lawyer got here thirty minutes after we brought you guys in. They’re playing the quiet game, waiting to see what we have and what we’re going to do. Even charging him with shooting those men in the apartment is off the table for the moment until we get all the evidence sorted.
“Or if we didn’t have your statement saying he and Serov shot back in self-defense.”
“They did act in self-defense. Their own and mine.”
“They didn’t have to be so good at shooting back.”
“He was just defending himself. And if we hadn’t gotten there, Guro’s men might have killed Onoprienko.”
“You
know
Guro’s people?”
Annja shrugged. “I don’t really know them. I only met them tonight, and that was only for about a minute before they started trying to kill us.”
“You got really lucky there. Although nobody’s talking, and most of those guys aren’t even alive
to
talk now, the way Joe and I read it is Guro’s head enforcer—”
“Kaneev.”
Bart frowned. “Yeah. Kaneev. We think he was there to kill Onoprienko, but he was also doing a bit of gun smuggling on the side. I guess he figured Onoprienko’s apartment was safe to do it in. So while Kaneev was getting ready to blow Onoprienko’s brains out, he was making a little extra side money selling weapons. One of the buyers gave us that.”
Picturing the scene in her mind again, Annja shook her head. “If Kaneev was there to kill Onoprienko, Onoprienko would have been dead. They wanted something out of him.”
“Had to be money. Guro is a loan shark.”
“Onoprienko had something they were trying to get. Otherwise they wouldn’t have tortured him. The only thing I can think of is the elephant that Benyovszky had.”
“Onoprienko was tortured?”
“He’d been hit a lot. His face was busted up pretty good.”
“Doesn’t that bother you?”
“What?”
“That a guy was tortured? That people got dead real fast tonight?”
Annja considered that. She was bothered, but there was nothing she could do about it. There were things a person could fix, and things that could not be fixed. To get through life sane, a person had to figure out what went on each list. A kind sister had taught Annja that back in the New Orleans orphanage she’d grown up in. The same sister had also helped Annja start martial arts because knowing herself better would help her separate those lists.
“Yes, it bothers me. Probably on the same level that it bothers you.”
“I see a lot of this in my job.”
“I’m sure you do, but have you ever seen children dying of malnutrition and disease while lying in their mother’s arms only a short distance from a medical facility they’re not allowed to go to? Those trips I go on, Bart, it’s not all about digging a hole in the ground and trying to find a treasure. I see people at their lowest. And to be honest, there are a lot worse things happening in a number of countries than happen here. Tonight was bad, but no innocents were killed. You need to be thankful for that.”
Bart just stared at her for a moment. “You know, I’ve never stopped and thought about that. What you see, I mean.”
A knock sounded on the door.
“Come in,” Bart said.
The door opened and an older plainclothes detective stuck his head in. “Sorry to interrupt, Bart, but Creed’s attorney is here.”
Bart glanced at Annja and she saw the flush of anger in his face. “You called a lawyer?”
“No.”
“Excuse me, detective,” a new voice interrupted. “Perhaps it would be better if I explained.”