Page 84 of The Devil Wears Orange
“Stop the vehicle,” a voice commands from the chopper.
“Damn it,” Rashid says through clenched teeth. “Do as they say.”
I slam on the brakes, the tires screeching to a stop. My breaths are quick and loud over the sound of an engine left idling.
“Put your hands where we can see them,” the voice booms.
We do as we are told.
“Now step out of the car one at a time.”
I turn to Rashid. “This is it,” I whisper.
He nods his head in agreement, yet neither of us moves.
A warning shot hits the ground near the Bentley. The irate voice says, “Place your hands where we can see them. Up. Up.”
I suck in deep breaths. Our hands move up at a steady pace.
“Now step out of the vehicle, one at a time.”
I step out first, and Rashid slides out behind me, both with our hands firmly up in the air. I turn my head away from the blowing dirt kicked up by the hovering chopper.
Police cars arrive on either side of the Bentley, and the chopper moves away. Our plan to be heroes made sense at the time, and Rashid was right about the law handcuffing the police. Retrieving the stolen art was a coup that only we could accomplish, and it would have been the evidence needed to bring the police in to retrieve the rest. It was a good plan. Or a stupid one. Standing there with my hands up in the air, surrounded by police, I’m undecided. Besides, who would believe us now that we’re caught?
“Charlotte.”
I turn to the sound of my name. Jack stands beside an open door of the police vehicle.
“Jack!”
“That was exceptional,” says the uniformed man standing next to Jack.
My gaze travels from Jack to the uniformed officer. Favreau. What’s he doing here? He’s Javert to my Jean Valjean.
Favreau continues, “Absolutely astonishing. Between the heist and the shooting and the escape, I don’t know which was the most exciting. You can tell me your favorite scenes at the police station.”
Chapter 50
At the station, Islide out from the backseat behind Rashid and Jack. My head hangs low, eyes focused on a ground that turns from asphalt to concrete to speckled tiles. With Favreau pulling up behind us, we follow the driver into an office; a sign on the door reads “Inspector Fricke.” It’s a small room, stark with four chairs on this side of a grey desk that we would-be-heroes take while Favreau pulls his chair ahead of us. Through an open window, I hear the media frenzy outside, and I flash back to the first night I met Jack and that drive to the hotel. It seems like a lifetime ago when this all began.
The driver makes his way to the Swiss Inspector’s side of the desk, rubs his eyes, and mutters, “This day will never end.”Heis Inspector Fricke. He hangs his cap on a coat rack next to his desk and takes his time settling into his chair. Elbows on the desk, fingers intertwined, he leans forward. “We’re combing through the truck, taking inventory of the art found there and on the premises. We’ve only begun, yet we see it is quite a find –provided it’s authentic – Monet. Fraisson. Sonnenberg. Several have been missing since the Nazis stole them during World War II,” says Fricke.
Favreau adds, “AndMistress In A Red Dresswas also recovered from the truck, which now closes my case.”
“It was?” I say in astonishment and quickly look to Rashid, who gives me a knowing look. “I mean, yes, of course, it was.”
“Gentlemen, I’m afraid there’s been a misunderstanding, which can be explained completely,” Rashid says with easy confidence. “We retrieved the stolen work from Mr. Banning to bring as evidence to…”
Favreau waves his hands in the air, cutting off Rashid.
“No need to explain anything. Jack has already kept us abreast of the situation,” says Favreau.
“He has?” I say, wondering what deal Jack worked out for himself at my expense. I was unaware Jack was still feeding him information once we switched gears and boarded Rashid’s plan.
“Yes,” Jack pipes in. “I notified theCapitaine, informing him of our highly... top secret plan to break in and...and retrieve the stolen art from Mr. Banning’s, um... gang... and hand it over to the Swiss police.” Jack struggles to tell the story, emphasizing certain parts. “You know, from that lead we received which we knew would be useless to the police without concrete evidence.”
Favreau says, “Yes, Professor, you were supposed to do some recon, not take matters into your own hands. Though when he informed me of the plan, I immediately told the Swiss police to put an end to this nonsense. We tried to stop you before you went ahead, but alas, it was too late. Legally, I’m not sure where this puts us.”
