The Wind Dancer (52 page)

"Never mind," Pavel grumbled. "I might as well live on this blasted mountain by myself.
No one can talk to you when you're working on one of your puzzles. It's not as if you had
to do it for a living anymore. You're a damn addict." He swung the door shut behind him.

Was Pavel right? Alex wondered. Probably. He had worked at the task too long and knew
too well the heady exhilaration of finally solving a puzzle. After Afghanistan he had
thought he would never delve willingly into a project again, but he hadn't counted on the
habits the years had formed. Since he had come to St. Basil he had drifted back into the
pattern of gathering information and projecting events for his own amusement on
subjects as widely varied as the rise and fall of the New York stock market to which
countries would host future Olympic Games.

But this new puzzle was much more intriguing than any he had ever run across, and Alex
could feel the adrenaline begin to flow through his veins as excitement gripped him. He
felt alive, functioning at the top of his form once more.

One hour later Pavel entered the study and tossed a legal pad on the table in front of
Alex.

"Here it is. The Wind Dancer is owned presently by Jonathan Andreas."

"Where is it?"

"At the Andreas compound in Port Andreas, South Carolina. Andreas is one of the
wealthiest men in America and the compound is bristling with bodyguards and security
people. The house has a state-of-the-art security system."

"So did the Louvre," Alex said dryly. "It didn't prevent thieves from stealing the 'Mona
Lisa.' " He looked down at the notes on the yellow legal pad. "What's this about Vasaro?"

"Vasaro, the estate, is located near Grasse in France and raises flowers for the perfume
industry. The family Vasaro is distantly related to the Andreases; it was the French
cousins who convinced Jonathan Andreas's father to lend the Wind Dancer to the Louvre
in 1939 to earn money to ransom eleven Jewish artists held hostage by the Germans. Five
years ago, while she was attending the Sorbonne, a Caitlin Vasaro did a research paper
on the significance of the Wind Dancer in history that was used as the cornerstone for a
doctorate study by Andre Beaujolis."

"Do the Vasaros have any claim to the Wind Dancer?"

Pavel shook his head. "But the French government challenged the Andreas family in
1876 on the grounds that Marie Antoinette's gift wasn't legal under the revolutionary
assembly. They lost the suit." He paused. "You think the Wind Dancer is going to be
heisted next?"

"Probably not."

"Then may I ask why I've spent almost an entire hour on the phone with an extremely
suspicious French curator?"

"Every art object stolen has been of major cultural importance to the countries of Europe.
The statue of David in Italy, the 'Night Watch' in Holland, now the 'Mona Lisa' in France.
The Wind Dancer would be a prime candidate for theft if it was still in Europe." Alex
shrugged. "But it's not likely to be a target while it's safe on U.S. soil. Too bad."

"I'm sure Jonathan Andreas doesn't think so."

Alex chuckled, his blue eyes suddenly sparkling in his tanned face. "Why the hell are you
so glum?"

"Because you're not. You're excited as hell and operating on all cylinders. You're on the
trail of something. I know you, Alex."

Alex gazed at him innocently.

"Why did you have me call the Louvre when I could have found out what you wanted to
know by tapping Goldbaum or one of the usual newspaper sources?"

"Interpol won't bother you, Pavel."

"But you did want me to stir something up when I made the call."

Alex nodded. "I had a hunch and wanted to leap-frog a few obstacles. Don't worry, it
won't put your neck on the line."

"I'm not worrying. My neck has been on the line before." Pavel smiled. "Remember that
prisoner at Diranev? I thought I'd had it for sure before you stepped in and chopped him."

"You owed me money. I had to keep you alive to collect."

"And all this time you had me convinced you'd done it because of the nobility of your
soul."

"How could that be when I don't even know the meaning of the word nobility?"

"But you know the meaning of the word
friendship
," Pavel said softly.

Alex quickly looked down. "Lord, you're getting maudlin in your old age."

"I'm merely playing cleverly on your sympathy to gain what I want from you."

"And what do you want?"

"Martinique. I can't stand all this snow. It reminds me of Diranev. Why you decided to
buy a house in Switzerland baffles me."

"It's one of the few countries left on earth that permits a man to live with a minimum of
red tape."

"I can stand a little red tape if it gets me out of the ice and snow." He stared pleadingly at
Alex. "Martinique?"

Pavel looked like a wistful puppy gazing at a bone just out of reach, Alex thought with
affection. "Okay. Martinique. After I finish with--"

"Dammit, the next ice age will be here by the time you get to the end of this one." Pavel
turned away and strode toward the door. "I should have sent for Angela without asking
you. You're much more open to suggestion when you're operating on a physical and not a
cerebral level."

"Pavel."

"Yes?"

"I'm expecting a call. Put it through right away, will you?"

"Who?"

"Ledford."

Pavel's eyes widened in astonishment. "Christ," he whispered.

"Hardly." Alex's lips twisted sardonically. "Our friend Ledford is much closer to
Lucifer."

"You think he's responsible for all this?" Pavel nodded at the news clippings.

"Some of it bears his stamp. Ledford's always displayed a certain flamboyance and he
headed several of the Agency's operations involving art objects before they assigned him
to me."

"I'd forgotten that." Pavel frowned, trying to remember the details. "He stole back that
Del Sarto used to ransom a Portuguese diplomat in Brazil, didn't he?"

"Among many others."

"It's a CIA operation?"

"At first I thought so. Not now."

"Then what?"

Alex shrugged. "Perhaps we'll find out when Ledford phones."

Pavel's eyes narrowed. "That's why you had me call the Louvre. You didn't really think
the Wind Dancer was the next target. You were issuing an invitation."

"More in the nature of a summons." Alex grinned. "Ledford always has had a passion for
the Wind Dancer. He used to rave about it. He'll understand what my inquiry about the
statue means."

"You believe the curator is collaborating with Ledford?"

"He's probably in contact with Ledford or whoever stole the 'Mona Lisa.' Security was
too tight at the Louvre for anyone but the curator to be able to bypass it."

"Bribery?"

"It would have to be extravagant bribery. I'd say in the multimillions."

"That doesn't make any sense. Why pay millions to steal a painting that can't be fenced?
Even a closet collector wouldn't risk buying a painting as famous as the 'Mona Lisa.' "

"An interesting question." Alex leaned back in his chair. "We'll have to find out, won't
we?"