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The English Assassin :: Silva Daniel
Страница: 181 из 209Müller was the one who designed the security system. So I had my men dig up as much dirt on Müller as we could find. Müller didn’t have clean hands, either. None of us really does, do we?” When Gabriel said nothing, Peterson continued. “I went to Paris to have a chat with Müller. Needless to say, he agreed to work for our cause.”
Peterson smoked the cigarette nearly to the filter, then morosely crushed it out in his empty soup bowl.
“The job was set for the next night. Rolfe was planning to go to Geneva and spend the night at his apartment there. The art restorer was scheduled to arrive the next morning. The team broke into the villa, and Müller guided them down to the viewing chamber.”
“Were you part of the team?”
“No, my job was to make sure the Zurich police didn’t show up in the middle of it, nothing more.”
“Go on.”
“Müller disarms the security system and shuts down the cameras. Then they go inside the vault, and guess what they find?”
“Augustus Rolfe.”
“In the flesh. Three o’clock in the morning, and the old man is sitting there with his fucking paintings. Müller panics. The burglars are strangers to Rolfe, but the old man and Müller are in business together. If the old man goes to the police, it’s Müller who’ll take the fall. He grabs a gun from one of the Council’s men, marches the old man upstairs to the drawing room, and puts a bullet in his brain.”
“Six hours later, I show up.”
Peterson nodded. “Rolfe’s body gave us an opportunity to test the veracity of the art restorer. If the art restorer discovers the body and telephones the police, chances are he’s just an art restorer. If he finds the body and tries to leave town-”
Peterson held up his hands as if to say no other explanation was necessary.
“So you arrange to have me arrested.”
“That’s right.”
“What about the first detective who interrogated me?”
“Baer? Baer knew nothing. To Baer you were just a suspect in the murder of a Swiss banker.”
“Why bother to arrest me? Why not just let me go?”
“I wanted to scare the shit out of you and make you think twice about ever coming back.”
“But it didn’t stop there.”
Peterson shook his head. “No, unfortunately, it was just the beginning.”
GABRIEL knew most of the rest, because he had lived through it. Peterson’s rapid-fire account served only to reinforce his existing beliefs or to fill in gaps.
Peterson smoked the cigarette nearly to the filter, then morosely crushed it out in his empty soup bowl.
“The job was set for the next night. Rolfe was planning to go to Geneva and spend the night at his apartment there. The art restorer was scheduled to arrive the next morning. The team broke into the villa, and Müller guided them down to the viewing chamber.”
“Were you part of the team?”
“No, my job was to make sure the Zurich police didn’t show up in the middle of it, nothing more.”
“Go on.”
“Müller disarms the security system and shuts down the cameras. Then they go inside the vault, and guess what they find?”
“Augustus Rolfe.”
“In the flesh. Three o’clock in the morning, and the old man is sitting there with his fucking paintings. Müller panics. The burglars are strangers to Rolfe, but the old man and Müller are in business together. If the old man goes to the police, it’s Müller who’ll take the fall. He grabs a gun from one of the Council’s men, marches the old man upstairs to the drawing room, and puts a bullet in his brain.”
“Six hours later, I show up.”
Peterson nodded. “Rolfe’s body gave us an opportunity to test the veracity of the art restorer. If the art restorer discovers the body and telephones the police, chances are he’s just an art restorer. If he finds the body and tries to leave town-”
Peterson held up his hands as if to say no other explanation was necessary.
“So you arrange to have me arrested.”
“That’s right.”
“What about the first detective who interrogated me?”
“Baer? Baer knew nothing. To Baer you were just a suspect in the murder of a Swiss banker.”
“Why bother to arrest me? Why not just let me go?”
“I wanted to scare the shit out of you and make you think twice about ever coming back.”
“But it didn’t stop there.”
Peterson shook his head. “No, unfortunately, it was just the beginning.”
GABRIEL knew most of the rest, because he had lived through it. Peterson’s rapid-fire account served only to reinforce his existing beliefs or to fill in gaps.