The Pretender's Gambit. Alex Archer
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He hadn’t gotten caught earlier. Once he’d seen that Annja Creed had overcome her captors, he’d allowed the police pursuing him to overtake and arrest him. He wanted to talk to the policeman again, the one who had investigated the old man’s murder. Rao needed to know what had become of the elephant piece Benyovszky had listed on his site.
The door opened and Rao looked up at the arrival. The young detective, Bart McGilley, entered the room with a file in one hand and a cup of coffee in another. His expression was neutral, but Rao easily read the tension in the other man’s movements.
McGilley set his coffee and the file on the table, then sat, as well. As he moved, he carried himself gingerly.
“Are you in pain?” Rao remembered the man had been shot in the diner.
“I’m fine.” McGilley’s answer was flat and final. “You should be worried about you.”
“I have not done anything wrong, therefore I do not see anything I should be concerned about.” Rao was pretty certain that fighting to defend himself was allowed in the United States. The laws here could be exasperating, but he thought he was correct about that. He had not killed anyone, and he had been attacked first. “I only turned myself in because I knew there would be questions as to my involvement in the violence at the diner.”
“We’ll see about that.” McGilley stared him in the eye. “They said you wouldn’t talk to anyone but me.”
“You, or Professor Creed. Is she still here?” Actually, Rao wanted to talk to the woman more. He wanted to know how much she knew, if she could add anything to the amount of knowledge he had about the elephant.
“You’re talking to me.”
“Of course.” Rao made himself be patient. The wheels of bureaucracy turned slowly in any country.
“Tell me about the elephant you’re looking for.”
“It is an object that I would like to have.”
“Why?”
Rao considered that for a moment, thought that his business and that of the temple need not be discussed with the American police and decided to withhold a replay regarding those interests.
“Did you hear the question?” the detective asked.
“I did.”
“Then talk to me.”
“I choose not to. That has nothing to do with the events that occurred at the diner.”
A flicker of anger darted through the detective’s eyes. The corners of his mouth tightened in displeasure. “Things will go easier for you if you cooperate.”
“I am cooperating. I turned myself in. Surely you can see that I am cooperating.” Rao kept his voice calm and easygoing, offering no threat nor confrontation.
“I need to know about the elephant piece.”
“I will not discuss that.”
“A man was killed last night, probably for that elephant. You understand how that is important, something I should know.”
“I did not kill him. I have not been inside Maurice Benyovszky’s building. Your investigation will confirm that. Or, at the least, not be able to put me inside that building.”
“Are you boasting?”
“I am merely stating the truth as I see it.”
“Professor Nguyen—” the detective laced his fingers together on the table “—maybe you don’t understand your circumstances. Potentially you’re in a lot of trouble here.”
“Have I broken any laws?”
“None that I’m aware of, but you’re at the center of a murder, and that makes you a material witness. I can hold you on that alone for a time.”
Rao had not known that. That revelation did make things more complicated.
“Tell me about you and Calapez,” McGilley went on.
“I do not know anyone named Calapez.” Rao guessed that must have been the name of the man inside the diner, the one who had come at him shooting. Rao was not lying. He did not know the man’s name, which was what he had stated, but he had known the man was also after the elephant.
“You seemed to know him earlier.”
“Calapez is the man who was in the diner.” The name of the man was new to Rao. He filed it away. “He had a weapon and seemed intent on using it. I reacted.”
“I saw you when you recognized him. I know you knew him then.” McGilley laced his hands around his coffee and Rao knew the man was drawing warmth from the hot liquid. “He knew you, too.”
“He has said this?” That would be interesting, and it would mean that the man who had sent Calapez to get the elephant knew more than Rao and his superiors had reckoned.
“I’m asking the questions.”
“Of course. I meant no disrespect. I did not know the man’s name until you mentioned it now.”
“How do you know him?”
“Only through a chance encounter earlier. He struck me as a violent man. A killer. I am certain that if you look into his background you will discover this for yourself.”
“Where did you encounter Calapez before this morning?”
Rao considered that quickly and thought that he would not be risking too much by telling the truth. “In Phnom Penh.”
“When?”
“A few days ago.”
“What was he doing there?”
“I do not know.”
The detective frowned in irritation. “Where did the two of you meet?”
“We did not meet.”
“Where were you when you saw Calapez?”
“In the museum where I sometimes work.”
The detective checked the file. “At the national museum?”
“Yes.”
“And you don’t know what Calapez was doing there?”
“No.”
“Between you and me, I don’t think Calapez is much of a history buff or art lover.”
“I do not get that impression either.”
McGilley paused for a moment as if to let that sink in. “What brings you to New York?”
“I came to see Mr. Benyovszky, as I told you in the diner.”
The pupils of the detective’s eyes dilated, giving away his excitement even though he remained stone-faced. “Did you and Mr. Benyovszky know each other?”
“No. We had exchanged email and a few phone calls.” Rao knew that would check out if the police checked Benyovszky’s phone records. He did not want to get caught in a lie. That would complicate matters regarding the recovery of the elephant.
“You should really tell me about the elephant.”
Rao didn’t reply. He had learned what he could from the policeman. They knew nothing about the elephant. McGilley asked more questions, but Rao remained silent. Finally, in frustration, the detective got up and left the interview room.
* * *
“WHAT ARE YOU going to do with him?” Annja watched Nguyen Rao through the one-way glass.
Bart’s aggravation showed in the hard lines along his jaw and the stiffness of his neck. He tossed the folder onto a nearby table. “I’m going to sit on him, hold him as long as I can.