“Because I thought the woman who murdered your driver would then follow you to London.”
“Where she planned to kill me?” said Anna quietly. Jack nodded but didn’t speak. “Thank God I never knew,” said Anna, pushing her breakfast to one side.
“But by then she’d already been arrested for murdering Sergei?” queried Arabella.
“That’s right,” said Jack, “but I didn’t know that until I met up with Tom last night.”
“So the FBI had been keeping an eye on me at the same time?” said Anna, turning to face Jack, who was buttering some toast.
“For some considerable time,” admitted Jack. “At one point, we even wondered if you were the hired assassin.”
“On what grounds?” demanded Anna.
“An art consultant would be a good front for someone who worked for Fenston, especially if she was also an athlete and just happened to be born in Romania.”
“And just how long have I been under investigation?” asked Anna.
“For the past two months,” admitted Jack. He took a sip of coffee. “In fact, we were just about to close your file when you stole the Van Gogh.”
“I didn’t steal it,” said Anna sharply.
“She retrieved it, on my behalf,” interjected Arabella. “And with my blessing, what’s more.”
“And are you still hoping that Fenston will agree to sell the painting so that you can clear the debt? Because if he did, it would be a first.”
“No,” said Arabella, a little too quickly. “That’s the last thing I want.”
Jack looked puzzled.
“Not until the police solve the mystery of who murdered your sister,” interjected Anna.
“We all know who murdered my sister,” said Arabella sharply, “and if she ever crosses my path, I’ll happily blow her head off.” Both dogs pricked up their ears.
“Knowing it is not the same as proving it,” said Jack.
“So Fenston has got away with murder,” said Anna quietly.
“More than once, I suspect,” admitted Jack. “The Bureau has had him under investigation for some time. There are four—” he paused “—now five murders in different parts of the world that have the Krantz trademark, but we’ve never been able to link her directly to Fenston.”
“Krantz murdered Victoria and Sergei,” said Anna.
“Without a doubt,” said Jack.
“And Colonel Sergei Slatinaru was your father’s commanding officer,” added Tom, “as well as being a close friend.”
“I’ll do anything I can to help,” said Anna, close to tears, “and I mean anything.”
“We’ve had a tiny break,” admitted Tom, “though we can’t be sure it will lead us anywhere. When Krantz was taken to the hospital to have the bullet removed from her shoulder, the only thing they found on her, other than the knife and a little cash, was a key.”
“But surely it will fit a lock in Romania?” suggested Anna.
“We don’t think so,” said Jack, after devouring another mushroom. “It has NYRC 13 stamped on it. Not much of a lead, but if we could find out what it opened, it might, just might, connect Krantz to Fenston.”
“So do you want me to stay in England while you continue your investigation?” asked Anna.
“No, I need you to return to New York,” said Jack. “Let everyone know you’re safe and well, act normally, even look for a job. Just don’t give Fenston any reason to become suspicious.”
“Do I stay in touch with my former colleagues in his office?” asked Anna. “Because Fenston’s secretary, Tina, is one of my closest friends.”