The Final Cut (A Brit in the FBI 1)

Nicholas said, “Don’t bother screaming; this place is soundproof.”

Kitsune cocked her head to the side, eyed him. “And to think I waited for you to leave before I blew the bomb in Geneva. What a mistake that was.”

“Yes, it was. Where is the Koh-i-Noor?”

“It’s still in Geneva.”

“Okay, Victoire Couverel. Yes, we’ve met your brother, we know about your parents, about their murder. We know about your adoptive parents, the missionaries. And look at you. You grew up to be the notorious thief known as the Fox. Fact is, I know enough about you to know you’d keep the Koh-i-Noor close. Now, where is it?”

She was stunned. But she’d never let him see it.

She gave him a sneer. “I see you’ve done your homework.”

Nicholas said, “Listen, all we want is the diamond. You give it to us,

and you’ll live the night.”

“I did not lie. It’s in Geneva. In a safe place.”

Nicholas was advancing on her when his mobile rang. After a moment, he pulled it out and glanced at the screen. Penderley.

He said, “Mike, convince our guest of the smart course of action.” He threw her the K-Bar knife he’d lifted during the fight. Mike caught it, expertly twisted it in her hand so the blade was pointed out, directly at Victoria’s lily-white throat.

It was a nice move. He went into the living room and answered the phone with a brusque “Yes?”

“I’ve spoken to Miles,” Penderley said. “The leak on the jewels traced directly to the Tower of London.”

Nicholas asked, “Are the Yeoman Warders the only ones outside of the queen’s people who knew this was even being discussed? Has anyone left their ranks suddenly of late?”

“No, but last year there was an engagement that broke up. The man’s name is Grant Thornton, and his fiancée walked out on him. No one’s ever heard from her again.”

“Photo, please?”

“It’s in your email.”

“Hold on.” He switched apps to his email, pulled up the photo. He looked at a tall, dark haired, well-built man looking down at a smiling woman who was staring directly into the camera without knowing the shot was being taken. It was Victoria Browning, of a sort. Her hair was darker, and her eyes were a different color, a sparkling light blue, and her smile was genuine. The combination made her exotic instead of merely pretty.

“That’s our girl. Do you have the man in custody?”

“No. No one thinks he knows a thing about any of this, so we’re simply keeping an eye on him.”

“Okay. If we need leverage, you can haul him in. If he and the Fox were engaged, perhaps she had real feelings for him. I’ll be back in touch soon.”

93

Nicholas hung up and went back to the kitchen. Mike looked one second away from belting Victoria. She’d obviously said something to tick Mike off.

He turned one of the kitchen chairs around and straddled it, laying his arms along the top. Relaxed, not a care in the world. Mike stepped away a few feet, crossed her arms over her chest.

Nicholas smiled. “Victoria. Victoire. What shall I call you?”

“Kitsune. You may call me Kitsune.”

“Kitsune, Japanese for fox. So are you Japanese? Your heritage seems a bit muddled to me. Like a dog from the pound.”

“Woof.”

He stood up and leaned over her. “Let me tell you how this is going to work. You are going to give me the Koh-i-Noor, and in return, I’ll put in a good word for your friend Grant Thornton. You remember him, don’t you? He’s the one who gave you the information about the Koh-i-Noor stone moving to New York months before it was publicly announced? As we speak, he’s being transferred to the tombs in London. Into a mixed cell. You know how they love the pretty boys. Word gets out he’s former SAS and they’ll want to make an example of him.”