Page 85 of The Wolves Come at Night
“With your arm around his throat, preferably.” That feral grin flashed, the one Taylor was starting to recognize as the wolf inside Angelie. At Taylor’s narrowed eyes, she waved her hand dismissively. “He will give us what we want. When we have access to Game’s accounts, we can ascertain who’s been paying him, and where he’s been. All of his life will be revealed. Once we know that, we will be one step closer to finding where he’s stashed Carson. Kidnapping and hiding people, it takes money, and resources. It will all be in his banking records.”
“How do you know, though? And as a part of your former team, wouldn’t he expect you to come looking for the money trail, and change bankers?”
Angelie smiled sweetly. “Game overestimates his cleverness. And he may expect this of me, but he would never, ever, expect it from you, which is why we need you to go in.”
“But you’ll be with me.”
“Not through the front door. I will come in later.”
“A man like La Boulanger, who does banking off-book…I assume he’s been threatened before.”
“We will not threaten. We will explain, and we will offer a deal. Once we know what Game has been up to, we will be in the power position. That’s what Santi will be doing while we go on whatever errand La Boulanger asks of us. You’ve heard the term quid pro quo? The little shit will give us what we want, but only if we give him something in return.”
“I’m curious, how would the money give you these details? You said everything was done with anonymous wire transfers?”
“They are. But Game is an idiot. He likes Bitcoin, and with that, every transaction is traceable, given the appropriate knowledge and leverage. With the source of the transaction identified, we’ll be able to find where he had the money wired.”
“But if Game kidnapped Carson to draw you out, what does tracing the money have to do with it? You don’t think he was paid to kidnap her, do you? That would mean someone else was involved.”
“Non. I believe he is acting alone. But I do think that he’s spent a great deal of money slipping her away. Money is always the best place to start when you’re searching for someone.”
Taylor shook her head. “It’s too simple. Hack his accounts, and find where he’s been sending and receiving his cash? If he’s remotely good at what he does—which I assume because he was once your teammate, he is—that feels sloppy. Also, if he’s made a ransom demand, and you’re planning to give him the money…that also doesn’t fly for me. Now, if you’re planning to rob the man of his assets to get his attention, that would make more sense. You can trade his money for the girl, even-steven. Then you can hunt him down, and Carson won’t get hurt.”
The assassin gave her a completely new and appraising look.
“If this was a normal situation, we might do just that. I’m not saying we won’t skim a bit, just to make things easier for our own movements. But if we steal too much, he’ll just kill the girl and then come after us. Our primary goal is to get Carson back unharmed. He knows this. He won’t hesitate to ruin things for us.”
“What will he trade her for, though? Money? A physical showdown with you? I don’t get what he has to lose by just killing Carson and walking away.”
“Other than his life? He kills her, he’s a dead man walking, and he knows it. No, he wants to punish us, to belittle us, embarrass us. This is a pride issue.”
Taylor cracked open her own water. “But is it? Really? You’re coming for him regardless. He has to know that. In my experience, when a killer wants to play, he plays. Kidnapping Carson pissed you off enough to come out of retirement to go after him—that’s playing. But why the subterfuge? Game doesn’t feel like the kind of show-off killer I’m used to, the kind who think they’re smarter than us, need to show us how smart they are, and genuinely believe they will get away with it. Game can’t possibly think that by drawing you out, he can win against you head-to-head.”
Angelie bowed her head. “Thank you for the compliment.”
“I don’t know that it was one. But the point stands. What does he think he’s going to get out of a direct confrontation with you? If he was looking for a showdown, why didn’t he just kill Carson straight up and let you come after him? He’s after something else, isn’t he? Something you have or can get for him. What is it?”
Santiago and Angelie traded a glance.
“That, my dear captain, is what we need to figure out.”
Part Three
“It is very beautiful in Paris and
very lonely at Christmas time.”
* * *
—Ernest Hemingway, “Christmas at the Roof of the World”
Forty-Four
SATURDAY: Faubourg Saint Germain, Paris
At the corner of Rue de Grenelle and Rue de Bellechasse stood a building that fairly screamed Paris. A Haussman edifice—elegant masonry, tall wooden doors, wrought-iron balconies—it was a quintessential Parisian residence, a dream for any Francophile. What lurked inside was something altogether different.
Their car was waved through the courtyard entrance of the building down the street that was attached to the one on the corner. La Boulanger owned the whole block. Taylor thought it would have been a lot more fitting if the bottom floors of the corner building housed an actual patisserie, like the one across the street, but when she said this to the assassin, Angelie didn’t crack a smile. The sky was gunmetal gray, and Taylor shivered inside her jacket.
