Free Magic Lantern (Rogue Angel) by Alex Archer Page B

party, but he learned of the sale too late to bid. This is where it gets interesting. And, perhaps, more troubling.” Gaetano laced his fingers. “Have you heard of a man named Jean-Baptiste Laframboise?”
From the way Gaetano said the name, Annja knew the person wasn’t a good man. She missed having her computer and a ready internet connection. In seconds she could be infinitely more knowledgeable than she presently was. “No.”
“Neither had I, but the auctioneer told me about him. As it turns out, Laframboise is a black marketer. One of those chaps who can—no matter how difficult or how illegal it is—get it for you. For a price.”
“Laframboise deals in antiquities?”
“Not as a regular field of operations, no. In fact, the auctioneer inquired after Laframboise to a policeman friend of his. A man in Scotland Yard who deals with forgeries and the like. According to the detective at the Yard, he’s made quite the name for himself in the drug trade and human trafficking.”
“Then why is he after Dutilleaux’s magic lantern?”
Gaetano shook his head. “I have no earthly idea. The auctioneer went on to tell me that Laframboise was quite distraught when he discovered the magic lantern had been sold.”
“When did Laframboise find out?”
“He talked to the auctioneer two days ago.”
“When was the sale?”
“A few weeks ago.”
“Laframboise just found out about it?”
Gaetano shrugged. “Evidently. The auction was a small thing. I remember that Edmund was worried someone might snatch up his prize. Professors don’t make a lot, you know.”
Annja nodded. She knew. That was one of the reasons she didn’t teach full-time. But the main reason was because she’d rather be at a dig getting her hands dirty. The chance to see something no one had seen in a very long time was exciting. A lot of archaeologists lived for it.
And a lot of them had died for it.
“How did Laframboise find out about the auction?”
“My friend didn’t know.”
“How did Laframboise track Dutilleaux’s lantern to Edmund?”
A deep frown creased Gaetano’s face. “Two of Laframboise’s bullyboys showed up on my friend’s doorstep and assaulted him.”
“He didn’t think to tell you or Edmund?”
“This only happened a few hours ago. And they threatened him if he told anyone. He has a family to think of. He was very scared the whole time he was talking to me. Had I not gone to him and had we not been longtime friends, I don’t think he would have told me.”
Taking a deep breath, Annja pushed her anger away. “There are a lot of innocents involved in this.”
“Exactly my thoughts.” Gaetano sighed. “I fear I, too, have been remiss in the assistance I could have given Edmund.”
“What do you mean?”
“Edmund was thrilled with his acquisition. I’d promised to help him research the matter and Anton Dutilleaux and I hadn’t. I’m currently endeavoring to correct that oversight by calling in some favors.”
For a moment, Annja was silent, chasing thoughts of her own. “There is one other possibility.”
Gaetano cocked an eyebrow.
“I was at Edmund’s flat. His collection of magic props doesn’t appear to be there.”
“No. He keeps them in a storage unit.”
“Do you know which storage unit?”
Gaetano smiled when he realized what she was actually asking. “Of course I do. That’s where Edmund shows off his collection. There’s no room at his flat.” He pushed himself up from the table. “Let me go change clothes. I have a car around back.”
While waiting for Gaetano to get dressed, Annja wandered the dining area and stared at the caricatures. Most of the names were unfamiliar to her, but she recognized the famous ones.
Then, on the third wall she examined, she found a caricature that she recognized immediately, though the name was new to her. It had been drawn thirty-three years ago.
The man in the picture hadn’t changed in the intervening years. He was gaunt to the point of emaciation, had white