The Kiss after Midnight (The Midnight Trilogy) (28 page)

Tobias took a long drag on his cigarette. “But that’s the thing. He might have known them, but I can’t work on a single angle without proof, something connecting him to anyone in The Dominguez Organization.”

“And that’s why I came. To help you find that connection. We still have over a dozen folders to go through.”

Tobias nodded and threw his cigarette out the window. As he closed the curtains, he caught sight of a police vehicle on a side street and ducked.

“What is it?” Erwin asked.

Tobias held his hand up for silence. Tobias peeked out the window. Two police officers got into the car with cups of coffee and drove away.

Tobias took a deep breath and stood up. “It’s nothing. I’m just on edge.”

“I completely understand. These are trying times for you.”

“So which one’s next?”

Erwin sat on the bed and rummaged through the folders. He picked up a black one with “Better life for Children” scribbled in the top right-hand corner in German. “This was quite a big fundraiser. The British prime minister and the Spanish royal family attended.”

Tobias took the folder and sat on the other side of the bed. The photos all showed his grandfather shaking the hands of various important-looking people. After coming across a picture showing Albert standing between the Spanish prince and the British prime minister, Tobias waved his hands in the air.

Erwin dashed to the other side of the bed. “What is it? What have you seen?”

Tobias put his finger against the face of a blond man in a white shirt and dark vest. He was holding Albert’s right shoulder and seemed to be engaged in a cheerful conversation. “I know this man. That’s Connor Murray.”

“Ah, so it is.” Erwin leaned closer to the picture. “If Murray was here, others might have been, too.”

Tobias nodded and moved on to the next pictures. He’d looked through nearly all of them when he spotted a man in a black suit leaning into or out of an embrace with Albert. He had grayish hair tied in a ponytail. He was holding his grandfather’s arms in a way that suggested that they weren’t just business associates but also friends.

“Oh my God,” Tobias said. “It’s him. It’s Juan Cabrera, the
gobernador
of The Dominguez Family. I’m not sure who the man behind him is.” A smiling man stood a few yards behind Juan. He was an average-sized man with a thick moustache.

Erwin held the picture and looked at it for a moment. “You’re sure of it?”

“On my life. I watched him shoot Murray in the recording they’ve been chasing me across New York for.”

Erwin set the picture down and interlocked his fingers. “And this is the recording that American girl is keeping for you?”

“Yes.”

Erwin sighed. “So what do we know? By the looks of this, Juan was good friends with your grandfather, which still tells us nothing.”

“Nothing? Look at them. Does Juan look like someone who’s planning to murder my grandfather in six months’ time?”

“Maybe not.” Erwin took the folder from him and looked at the next picture. It was a shot depicting Juan, Albert and Murray engaged in a conversation, smiles all around. “But look at what this shows us. They were all good friends and possibly had a successful partnership. Murray’s problems had not yet escalated by this time, but once they did, and the rumors were rife that he would start talking, Juan acted quickly.”

“But that’s Murray. My grandfather was not going to squeal. Or was he?”

Erwin shook his head. “I couldn’t answer that. Even if something was wrong, I wouldn’t have known it. He was too good at keeping things to himself. But regardless of whether your grandfather was talking or not, I suppose Juan’s not the kind of man to take chances like that.”

Tobias sighed and walked to the minibar. He offered Erwin a sealed bottle of mineral water and opened one for himself. “So you’re saying that it actually could be Juan who orchestrated the whole thing.”

“Yes. It’s a very viable possibility. He has the connections to carry out such a feat. And if, as you say, the recording on him got to you by Penélope’s hands, it’s very possible that Juan knew about it before and ordered her death, too.”

“Or Antonio,” Tobias said. “He’s definitely capable. I still think he was the one who killed Penélope.”

“Maybe. There are some reasons why he would kill his girlfriend. He could have found out about her cheating or maybe even found out that she had made a recording of his uncle, sending him into a rage. But what’s more difficult to fathom is why he would have ordered the hit on your grandfather. We still haven’t connected them in any way. We don’t even know they knew each other.”

“He must have known him,” Tobias said, “especially since my grandfather was so close to Juan.”

“You might be right, but we have to go with the facts, and at the moment, the only connection we’ve been able to find is one with Juan. Now we need to get to the bottom of their relationship.”

Tobias nodded. “What about the night my grandfather died?”

Erwin leaned toward his bag and pulled out a green folder. “I have it all right here.”

Tom walked around his office, occasionally starting to open the door but returning to his chair instead. The picture that was bothering him now lay on the center of his desk. Where had he seen that woman? The answer lay somewhere deep in the recesses of his brain.

He picked up the phone and called Agent Vázquez again. “Hi. It’s Tom again.”

“How can I help you, Tom?”

Tom paused. “Is there anything else on Annabel Lopez?”

“I told you, I gave Agent Green everything.”

“Yes, I know that. I just ... Tom scratched his head and shifted in his seat.

“Agent Saddle!”

“I’m still here. I guess I’m just having a hard time figuring out why she wanted it. Did she say?”

“She just asked that I bring her every file Agent Briggs had on Annabel, and I ...

“What. What is it?”

It sounded as if Vázquez were sifting through paperwork. “There was one file she was looking for, but I couldn’t find it.”

Tom rushed to his feet. “Which one was it?”

“Hang on.” The line went quiet. Tom’s fingers twitched. He wanted to urge her to hurry but bit his tongue. “Right, she was especially after the files covering Annabel’s time in Mexico.”

Why? I’ve got those files, and she knew that.
Tom rummaged through his desk and pulled out a yellow folder. He flipped through some of the documents inside, all of which described Annabel’s military training and activist movements while in Mexico. He saw a number of pictures of Annabel protesting with a group of people on the streets of the capital.

“Agent Saddle?”

“Sorry. I’m still here. Are those files logged out by any chance?”

“I have most of them logged out to you except ... Got it—her graduation pictures in Mexico. That’s the only one missing, the one Agent Green was looking for.”

“And Briggs didn’t have them?”

“No. The last person to look at them was an Agent ... Agent Grimes. But he can’t—”

Tom threw the phone to the floor and rushed out of the office. He stopped outside for a brief moment to catch his breath before dashing down the corridor toward the elevator. He arrived on the twenty-fifth floor a few seconds later and dashed toward Grimes’ office. He arrived to see him speaking with a man wearing a heavy hooded top and baggy trousers, probably an informant.

When Grimes saw Tom’s sweating face, he stood and walked to the door.

“I just need a minute,” Tom said.

“Miguel, can you give me a sec?”

The hooded man nodded and walked past them and into the hall.

“So what’s this about?” Grimes asked.

“I need the file you have on Annabel Lopez, the one with her graduation pictures.”

Grimes looked at the ceiling. “I thought you had all the Lopez files.”

“So did I, but you apparently have that one.”

Grimes nodded and returned to his desk. “Okay. Let me check.” He slowly and carefully opened several drawers as if he were tending to antique objects.

Tom watched him impatiently.
Come on. Come on. Why’s he stalling?
He glanced out the door and saw the hooded man sitting in the hall. Now Grimes was going through files on his desk. “Why’s it taking so long?” Tom asked.

Grimes didn’t answer and continued flipping through sheets of paper before finally holding up a transparent folder. “Sorry, man. I must have missed it.”

Tom stepped forward, his eyes locked on the file. The visible picture showed a smiling Annabel with her right hand around a young Mexican man, also in cap and gown. He took it from Grimes and rushed past the hooded man and toward the elevator. On the way, he flipped through the pictures, but nothing stood out.

In his office, sunlight was slipping in through the windows, and he took a seat. He paused upon reaching a picture of Annabel and the deceased woman, Penélope. The sincerity in Annabel’s smile as she wrapped her arm around Penélope told him what he’d already known: The women had great love for each other.

As he looked through the pictures, he found that Penélope was in many of them. When he reached the final photo, his eyes widened. There was a felt-tip pen mark in the top right corner—probably made by Emma—and the photo pictured Annabel and Penélope standing on either side of a woman who held them by their waists. It was the same woman he had seen in the previous picture.

***

“I can just see more and more important people,” Tobias said. “There’s nothing here.”

“Perhaps we should look at the surveillance footage inside the theater,” Erwin said.

“And you’ve got all that?”

Erwin nodded and opened Windows Explorer on his laptop. After going through numerous files on the C-drive, he clicked on a folder labeled “Last Few Hours” and then a file labeled “Standard.” The video played a few seconds later. The show had ended and people were gathered in a hall, drinking and conversing. Tobias studied their movements, looking for anyone who could be the killer.

His grandfather appeared five minutes into the video. He was laughing and joking with a blond woman wearing a dark blue suit. Many bodyguards stood close to him at all times. The recording rolled for a few minutes without anything unexpected happening. Tobias glanced at Erwin. “Are there any other angles we can see it from?”

Erwin miniaturized the screen and scrolled through yet more files before clicking on “Alternate 1.” The recording started where the other one had begun, but it showed a bird’s-eye view, as if shot from a balcony twenty feet above.

Tobias waited for the hall to fill with people. He saw many of the same people he’d seen from the previous angle. His grandfather appeared in the far left corner of the screen, having the same conversations Tobias had seen earlier, but someone crept into Tobias’ view, a man he hadn’t noticed before.

A well-built brown-haired man stood completely still a few yards from Albert’s bodyguards. Tobias moved closer to the screen. The man stood at such an angle that the camera used in the other recording could have shot only his side. This shot caught the top of his head and his distinctive brown suede jacket. But that was all Tobias could make out.

“What is it?” Erwin asked.

“That man there. We didn’t notice him earlier. Look at how close he is to my grandfather, but he has no business being there. He’s on his own, too. Where are his friends?”

Erwin moved closer to the screen. “Yes, you’re correct. He’s doing absolutely nothing.” The recording continued for a few more minutes, and then Albert whispered into the ears of one of his minders. “That’s the moment,” Erwin said. “He’s about to go for a cigarette. That’s when the killer struck.”

Just then the suspicious man turned—away from the cameras—and disappeared. “Where did he go?” Tobias said.

Erwin squinted. “I don’t know.”

“Change the angle, quick. We’ve got to find him.”

“There’s one more we can try.” Erwin opened another file, and this time the camera faced the fire exit through which Albert would have gone. After fast-forwarding for a few minutes, Erwin resumed playback and they soon saw the frame of the man in the brown jacket rushing toward the entrance, his head down the entire time. Then he walked out the door. Seconds later, Albert approached the exit and walked out, gesturing for his bodyguards not to follow.

Tobias sat back on the bed, and Erwin stopped the video. The room remained silent for many minutes. Tobias frowned at the ceiling, anger bubbling through his mind, his fists clenched.

“I’m so sorry you had to see that,” Erwin said.

“He was there. He was right there and everyone ignored him. My grandfather didn’t stand a chance.”

“He was careful. He was well trained. An assassin, no doubt. We find him and we’re a step closer to finding the killer who ordered the hit on your grandfather and possibly Penélope.”

Tobias laid his head on the bed. “He must have been local. Either that or he had been casing the theater for a while. Either way, he must have known where all the cameras were and that my grandfather didn’t like smoking with his guards around.”

“I think you’re on to something, but maybe he wasn’t even local. It wasn’t a secret that your grandfather planned to watch plays every day that week. The assassin would have needed no more than a few days to shadow him during the earlier shows.”

“That’s it then! We need to look at earlier recordings.”

Erwin shook his head. “That’s not what we should be doing. He seems far too clever. He would have studied the plans of that place beforehand. You won’t catch him on camera there. What we need to look out for is somewhere his guard wouldn’t have been up, somewhere he could make a mistake.”

“Where?”

Erwin opened a search engine on his web browser and searched for hotels near the theater in Düsseldorf.

“What are you doing?” Tobias asked.

“If he did arrive early to do his homework, he probably stayed in a hotel. We just need to find which one. It will be a tactical choice, one that would suit him perfectly.”

“I hope you’re right.”

Erwin browsed through information on a number of three to five-star hotels. He studied fire exits, nearby roads, previous clients and various other details that the average customer wouldn’t be interested in. Tobias stared at him intently.
Who’s this guy who worked for my grandfather? He knows his shit.