“I don’t know.” She looks defeated which angers me and I say angrily, “So somebody paid you to make this coin and you don’t even fucking know who, do you really expect me to believe that?”
“Am I in trouble?”
She looks so worried I shout, “Yes, you’re in fucking trouble and you are not leaving until I get my answers, so start talking.”
She reaches for the brandy and knocks it back in one go, and I smile to myself. I knew she’d need it. She shivers a little and is battling to hide her fear as she says softly, “I had a call one day, a few weeks back, from a man who asked if I could reproduce a coin. I told him I didn’t counterfeit money, but he said it was no legal currency, just a theater prop. He would send me a picture and if it matched exactly, he would pay me well for a quick turnaround.”
“How much?”
She inhales sharply and her voice quivers as she whispers, “Two hundred thousand dollars.”
I stare at her in shock. Two hundred thousand dollars. What the fuck? She starts to tremble and says weakly, “Was it illegal?”
I should put her out of her misery and reassure her, but how can I? I know nothing, so I say softly, “Where did you send it?”
“I didn’t. A woman came to collect.”
“Do you have her contacts?”
“No.”
“Does your shop have CCTV; can we access it?”
“No.”
I exhale sharply. “So, you took two hundred thousand dollars from a customer who you didn’t meet and then handed the order over to a woman who you have no way of getting back in touch with. Are you stupid?”
She raises her eyes and I see a little of the fire return as she says roughly, “Don’t you insult my business practices. I see all kinds of people in my shop and none of them fill out a questionnaire. I took an order; I made the product, and a woman collected. The money was placed in my account and that was it. The reason it was so expensive was on the understanding the transaction was a ghost one. No repercussions, no comeback, and how was I supposed to know it was dodgy? I’ve done nothing wrong, so if you’ll excuse me, I’ve had a very tiring day and need to go home.”
“About that.”
She looks up and I shrug. “You go home when I tell you. As soon as we’ve found who your customer was, the better for you, so until we have all the information, you stay with me.”
“You can’t do that!”
She stands quickly and I lean back in my chair. “I can and I will. That coin you made has set off a chain of events that’s out of control. Two people are already dead because of it, the man who received the coin and the woman who collected it.”
She sits down heavily and whispers, “Oh my god.”
“So, listen to me if you value your life. Until we know who we’re dealing with, you’re not safe. Your family is not safe and I am not safe. I need you to stay here by my side until we work out who ordered it, who paid the money and why and until all the puzzle pieces fit, you’re going nowhere.”