Chapter Nine

Charlie pulled the car over outside the gallery.

"Why don't we wait for back up?"

Chrissy folded her arms across her chest. "Charlie!"

"Okay, okay………..but I'm allergic to being shot at….."

She frowned irritably, there were times………

They entered the gallery, there was no sign of Laura, Charlie kept up a litany of complaint, but he stuck close to her side.

Chrissy cautiously entered the office. There were signs of hasty packing, and the burnt remnants of something in the waste basket. She bent down to retrieve some of it. Charlie was more interested in the laptop, he slid into the chair to examine the records more closely. The whole scam was laid out in detail, and for a split second he admired the simplicity of it.

"Chrissy, c'm here, I………" he turned to face her, which was when he saw the gun, "er..Chrissy…"

"What now, Charlie?" exasperated.

He waved his hand. She turned round just as a tall man stepped into the room.

"Well, well, well. So what do we have here??" the mixture of teasing and menace in the tone sent shivers up Chrissy's spine. Charlie made to move towards Chrissy and the gun waved in his direction. She put a hand out in a defensive gesture, no, Charlie, please don't.

A glimmer of light, "Mr Bader I presume?"

"Quite correct, but you have the advantage?" the easy conversational tone was scaring both Chrissy and Charlie.

"Agent Kowalski, FBI." She paused, a small futile gesture in her head, mentally she shrugged, one in a million, but she had to play the card. "You're under arrest."

He glanced at the gun in his hand. "I don't think so. In fact, I think that I came in disturbed some burglars who were attempting to rob Miss Neill, and fired on them." Charlie made to move further away, trying to create two targets and draw Bader's fire, there was a cold slippery feeling in his stomach as the gun followed his movements. "What do you think?"

What Chrissy thought was destined never to be heard. As she was preparing to square up to Bader, a new voice added itself to the proceedings. A voice that caused the room to spin, and the ground to heave beneath her feet.

"I think y'gonna drop it and put y'hands up." The warm rich New York accented voice jerked Charlie to his feet in shock. Bader spun round, his hand wavered and dropped.

"But….but…" he spluttered.

Charlie and Chrissy could have joined in the punchline.

"but…….you're dead!"

Alphonse Royo stood framed in the doorway behind. In reality, "stood" was stretching it a bit. The door frame appeared to be holding him up, the big Latin was on crutches, his heavily plastered left leg stuck out at an awkward angle, his good left hand had a firm grip on one crutch and he was using it to prop himself up, his bandaged right hand was wrapped round a handgun, which Charlie's dazed brain dimly recognised as one of Lucy's.

Alphonse was a really lousy shot, but Bader wasn't to know that; however, it was painfully obvious that he was weak and ill, uncharacteristically pale, the livid bruises and scrapes on his face stood out, and it didn't take a genius to figure that with a broken leg in plaster his mobility was going to be seriously affected. But the blue eyes held a cold, hard look, and the gun was rock steady in his big square hand.

Bader paused, caught in total indecision. He could easily take Alphonse out in his current condition, but his chances of getting close to the big Latin were low, the gun never wavered and the man's partners were behind him now.

"I'm interested to know how come's you know I'm dead!" Alphonse continued in the same conversational tone Bader had used earlier. "Especially as we didn't advertise." He raised the gun a little.

Bader seemed about to say something, when his eyes widened slightly and he smiled. Alphonse held the deadpan expression as he felt the gun muzzle press into the back of his neck.

"Miss Laura Neill, I presume." The gun pressed harder into his flesh. Moving extremely awkwardly, Alphonse managed to turn slightly. An unlovely sneer plastered itself across his features as all his predictions came true in an instant. But the calculating look of utter triumph in her eyes worried him.

"Why don't you join your friends, Mr Royo." She indicated Charlie and Chrissy, "Christian, get his gun. And try to do it right this time."

Alphonse relinquished the gun, he couldn't take chances. He was rapidly approaching the limit of his strength, but he had no intention of advertising that to his enemy either. He moved over very slowly to join the others, Charlie knew without being told that his big friend was fading, surreptitiously he eased off the computer chair, so that Alphonse could rest on it. The look of gratitude that his partner shot him spoke volumes.

Alphonse pulled himself together with an effort, if the plan was going to work, he had to get a confession. But his head was swimming and pains were running up and down his leg. Suppressing a desire to throw up, he addressed his partners. "Just before I was knocked cold, I gotta good look at the driver, it was her!"

Laura smiled, it was a cold, cruel, smile. "I knew it was a mistake to just leave you. But backing up over you would have pointed straight at the gallery and the paintings. I couldn't afford that."

Chills ran up Charlie's spine. She ran 'Phonse down for some paintings!!! He'd run across a lot of violence in his criminal career, but that kind of casual cruelty. He thought about the anguish he'd gone through when he thought his fun-loving friend was dead, and started a slow burn. She'd tricked Ice, she'd threatened the team, she'd tried to kill Alphonse……… he started to rise from the desk he was sitting on.

Alphonse cast a warning glance at his partner, Charlie stay put, "….So it was all about Jacoby's paintings. You and him," he glanced at Bader, "were ripping Jacoby off, so when Jacoby was approached by Briter, the new deal was better and Jacoby was going to take it, which didn't suit you at all. So you killed Jacoby."

"Actually it was Christian who killed Stuart. But, yes, that's about right." Laura gestured with the gun, "we had a beautiful set up, somehow Stuart found out about it. He went to Christian, blustering about his new deal and how we were going to be out in the cold, and that he was going to tell the whole world about the scam. We simply couldn't allow that."

"So you killed him." Chrissy's tone was hard and cold.

"It was so easy. Stuart was in the warehouse late, packing up his precious paintings. Christian knocked him out first, and then laid the fire. A lamp falls over and sets fire to dry packing materials, a tragic accident." Laura seemed to lose patience, the gun motioned.

"Enough explanation, now move."

Alphonse looked her. "Did you get that?"

Puzzled she frowned.

"Perfectly." O'Connor opened the far door and stepped into the room. "Laura Neill, Christian Bader, you are under arrest for the murders of Stuart Jacoby, Diane Allen and the attempted murder of Alphonse Royo."

Bader seemed to fold like a wet tissue, but Laura levelled her gun directly at O'Connor.

"Ah would nae do that." Ali snatched the gun from her hand before she had time to even react to his presence, "or yon man will be addin' resisting arrest to yer list o' crimes."

Chrissy was looking from one to the other in amazement. "How……..why…."

O'Connor sighed. "Alphonse gave us the name forty-eight hours ago. Lucy figured, if he died, she could protect him better and it might make someone careless….."

"So we went through that for nothing." Charlie's tone was dangerous. "You cooked up a scheme to put us through hell for nothing," he rose to his feet.

"Charlie.." it was somewhere between a sigh and a gasp, and Charlie spun round to grab hold of Alphonse as the big man wilted.

"Shit, 'Phonse don't do this to me." He struggled to support his partner's two hundred pound weight. Ali left Laura in O'Connor's capable hands and went to help Charlie. Between them, they managed to half-drag, half-carry Alphonse to the couch. By the time they'd managed to get him reasonably comfortable, back up had appeared, O'Connor handed over Laura and Bader to them; moving up to the couch he checked on his prize witness.

"How' y'doing?"

Alphonse opened one eye, "I'll make it." And promptly went back to sleep again.

Charlie sat slumped on the end of the couch, just above his partner's head, the turn of events was making his head spin again.

He looked up at O'Connor, "so you cooked this idea up between yourselves, put us all through hell…" he waved an expressive hand.

Without any warning, Chrissy lunged at O'Connor. It had all been too much.

She never got there. Suddenly she was swept into a pair of muscular arms, her struggles stilled, squashed against a broad chest. She looked up, Ali looked straight back at her, no apology in his gaze, but something else. For a second she considered questioning that look, but this was too public a place for it. Then she leaned into him, taking what he was offering. Ali closed his eyes and hung on, he read the question in her gaze perfectly.

O'Connor was looking around him. "Where's Gregory?"

Charlie pulled himself together with an effort, turned his dazed brain to the whereabouts of his other partner.

As one, he and O'Connor turned to where they were putting Laura into the back of a squad car. She looked back, the final triumph on her face unmistakable.

Charlie spoke for both of them. "Oh shit."