Free The Paris Vendetta by Steve Berry Page A

staring at the corpses across the room, he wondered. Thorvaldsen and Jesper had killed those men. What did it take to do that? Could he?
    He watched as Jesper stretched two body bags on the floor. He’d never actually seen someone who’d been shot dead. Smelled the rusty scent of blood. Stared into glassy eyes. Jesper handled the corpses with a cool detachment, stuffing them into the bags, not seeming to care.
    Could he do that, too?
    “What’s the deal with Graham Ashby?” Malone asked. “Sam here made a point to mention him to me. I assume that was at your insistence.”
    Sam could tell Malone was both irritated and concerned.
    “I can answer that,” Sam said. “He’s a rich Brit. Old, old money, but his actual worth is unknown. Lots of hidden assets. He got caught up in something a few years ago. Retter der Verlorenen Antiquitäten. Retrievers of Lost Antiquities. A group of people who stole art that was already stolen and traded it among themselves.”
    “I remember that,” Malone said. “That’s when they found the Amber Room.”
    Sam nodded. “Along with a ton of other lost treasures when they raided the participants’ homes. Ashby was implicated, but nothing was ever proven. Amando Cabral worked for one of the members. Acquisitors, they called them. The ones who did the actual collecting.” He paused. “Or stealing, depending on how you look at it.”
    Malone seemed to comprehend. “So Ashby got himself into trouble in Mexico City with collecting?”
    Thorvaldsen nodded. “The case was building, and Elena Ramirez Rico was on the right path. She’d eventually tie Cabral and Ashby together, so Ashby decided she had to be eliminated.”
    “There’s more,” Sam said.
    Malone faced him.
    “Ashby is also involved with another covert group that’s working a more widespread conspiracy.”
    “Is that the agent talking, or the webmaster?” Malone asked.
    He shook off the skepticism. “It’s real. They intend to wreak havoc with the world’s financial systems.”
    “That seems to be happening without their efforts.”
    “I realize that you think I’m nuts, but economics can be a powerful weapon. It could be argued that it is the ultimate weapon of mass destruction.”
    “How do you know about this secret group?”
    “There are some of us who’ve been watching. I have an acquaintance in Paris who found this one. They’re just getting started. They’ve tinkered here and there with currency markets. Small stuff. Things few would even notice, unless paying close attention.”
    “Which you and your friends have apparently been doing. You probably told your superiors, and they didn’t believe you. I assume the problem is a lack of proof.”
    He nodded. “They’re out there. I know it, and Ashby is a part of them.”
    “Cotton,” Thorvaldsen said, “I met Sam about a year ago. I came across his website and his unconventional theories, especially his opinions relative to Ashby. There’s a lot he says that makes sense.” The older man smiled at Sam. “He’s bright and ambitious. Perhaps you might recognize those qualities?”
    Malone grinned. “Okay. I was young once, too. But apparently Ashby knows you’re after him. And he knows about Sam.”
    Thorvaldsen shook his head. “I don’t know about that. The men tonight came from Cabral. I specifically provoked him. I wasn’t sure if Sam would be a target. I was hoping Cabral’s anger would focus on me, but I told Sam to find you if he needed help.”
    Jesper dragged one of the bagged bodies from the room.
    “They came by boat,” Thorvaldsen said. “It’ll be found tomorrow adrift in the Øresund, a long way from here.”
    “And what are you going to do now?” Malone asked.
    Thorvaldsen sucked a succession of quick breaths. Sam wondered if his friend was okay.
    “Ashby likes to acquire art and treasure that is either unknown, unclaimed, or stolen,” Thorvaldsen finally said. “No lawyers, legal battles, or press to worry about.