Always a Thief - Kay Hooper [92]
CHAPTER
SIXTEEN
Of course, the reason he gave me was simply that he was too close to Max and the museum to take any chances, plus that he wasn't particularly adept with cutting-edge electronic security systems. Since I had never hesitated to take the credit—or blame, rather—for past robberies, it was understood I wouldn't mind taking it for stealing the Bannister collection, even if all I actually walked off with was one piece of it.”
“I guess he never mentioned that he intended to kill you to make certain you could never be a threat against him in the future,” Wolfe commented.
“Well, no,” Quinn said. “I naturally assumed it was a risk and took sensible precautions.”
“And you never let the rest of us in on this because . . .” Wolfe's voice was dangerously quiet.
Quinn cleared his throat. “I thought the fewer of us who knew, the less likely there could be a slip. A problem.”
“Jesus Christ, Alex. Teaming up with a vicious killer? One slip and you end up with your throat cut.”
“Look, I thought it was worth the risk. Just setting a trap in the museum and waiting to see if he decided to rob the place seemed to me awfully chancy, especially given his avoidance of sophisticated electronic security. Besides which, he could have waited weeks to make his move, and I didn't think any of us wanted to wait and pace the floor that long.”
“So you decided to push him,” Max said.
“Well, more or less. After I made contact with him, I assured him I could find a way into the museum, and he wanted the collection badly enough to let me try. And it worked,” he added lightly. “He was caught breaking into the museum, and the police will certainly find plenty of evidence they can use against him when they search his house.”
Morgan frowned. “But Leo also knows a few things that could hurt you. He knows that Alex Brandon is Quinn.” She sent a quick glance toward Elizabeth, marveling that the older woman hadn't seemed upset by any of this, but Elizabeth smiled at her with utter calm.
“Does he?” Quinn smiled up at her. “He says Alex Brandon is Quinn. But all he really knows is that I told him I was Quinn, and he can't prove that; there hasn't been a single robbery attributed to Quinn here in San Francisco. So it's my word against his. If he tries to implicate me in any way, my sterling reputation should protect me. Besides, Interpol will report that the man they strongly suspect of being Quinn never left Europe. And since, also thanks to Interpol, there have been a couple of robberies on that side of the Atlantic publicly attributed to Quinn during the past week or so—while Alex Brandon was blamelessly over here—well, who would you believe?”
Mildly, Max said, “Lucky for you the Carstairs family decided not to go public about losing their necklace.”
In a tone of great innocence, Quinn said, “No, it's just lucky that the police will find that necklace in Leo's safe. Obviously, Nightshade stole the thing.”
“Obviously,” Wolfe grunted.
Storm giggled suddenly and, to Quinn, said, “I'll say this for you, Alex—you keep your balance on a high wire.”
“Practice,” he told her.
“So what now?” It was Max who asked, his steady gaze on his younger brother.
Quinn shrugged. “Well, there are lots more thieves in the world, some of them pretty good at eluding the police. I imagine Interpol can use someone of my . . . talents.”
Max looked at Jared, who nodded. “Probably. This little adventure, with its highly successful outcome, will look good to my superiors—since they don't know what went on behind the scenes. He's more valuable to us outside a prison cell than in.”
“On the road to redemption,” Quinn murmured.
“Don't push it, Alex,” Jared warned.
“I was being serious.” Quinn realized he was being stared at and cleared his throat. “Well, reasonably serious.”
Eyeing him, Wolfe said, “Sounds to me like you'll be in indentured servitude to Interpol. And that was never your style, Alex.”
“People change.”
“Uh-huh.”
“Look, I'm not saying I'm going to always enjoy playing on Interpol's team, but I can do it.”
“Can. But how long will you?”