Heart of Steel - Meljean Brook [100]
Hassan’s expression didn’t change. “Kareem al-Amazigh?”
“Yes.”
“Why?” Yasmeen asked.
“He doesn’t trust Mr. Hassan. Your association to Temür Agha is too close.” He spoke directly to Hassan. “He believes you will eventually betray him.”
God. Then al-Amazigh didn’t know Hassan at all. Archimedes shook his head. “Then why this expedition? Why not a more direct assassination?”
“Temür Agha is a powerful man, Mr. Fox. Al-Amazigh wanted the death to appear natural, the result of sickness, so that there would be no retaliation.”
“But he also needs the money,” Hassan said. “Is that right?”
“Yes. So he hired me to look for the treasures.”
Archimedes leaned forward. “Al-Amazigh didn’t want me included on the expedition, initially, because of my association with Temür. Are you supposed to kill me, too?”
“No.” He shook his head. “That is not mine to do.”
Yasmeen hissed. “Whose is it?”
“The marsouins’. After the expedition is over.”
Archimedes looked to Hassan. The man showed little, but he’d had years of practice concealing his emotions.
“Al-Amazigh must desperately want that money,” Yasmeen said.
“I do not know,” Ollivier said. “I was not told more.”
A feral expression slipped over her face, lips drawing back over sharp teeth. “And what of Lady Corsair?”
“I don’t . . . What of her?”
“Two months ago, she was boarded in Port Fallow and my crew slaughtered. Do you know anything of that, Mr. Ollivier?”
“No.” He shook his head emphatically. “No. Two months past, I was in Martinique. I did not even speak to Bigor until six weeks ago.”
“Why you?” Archimedes said. “You have no name for yourself in this field. You sympathized with the Liberé. How did they know to choose you for the expedition?”
“Bigor discovered me dosing the coffee in a noble’s house. He was there for another reason, and couldn’t risk the questions raised by my disappearance if he had killed me. But he has known of me since then. He remembered.” His hands clenched on the table, tears filling his eyes. “I was done with this! For ten years, I have only studied, taught. I wanted my name to be spoken in the same breath as da Vinci—but not like this!”
“Come now,” Archimedes said. “You wouldn’t have minded that so much.”
Ollivier wiped his eyes. “No. In truth, no. It would be worth it. Or even to have it spoken in the same breath as Archimedes Fox.”
Yasmeen grinned, leaned across the table, raised the teacup to his lips. “How about, ‘Vincent Ollivier, slain by Archimedes Fox’s wife’?”
“Oh, God, please no—”
“Stop.” She pulled back, her eyes hard, no humor left. “Understand this, Mr. Ollivier: You are leaving this cabin alive tonight. You are to give no indication that we’ve spoken of this. If you must, poison yourself to give the appearance of sickness, and remain in your bunk for the remainder of the expedition. Can you do that?”
“Yes. Yes, yes.”
“Wonderful.” She stood, gestured to the door. “Go now. And sleep well, Mr. Ollivier.”
After the smile she gave him, Archimedes would be surprised if the man ever slept again. He waited at the door, watched Ollivier enter his cabin before turning back to the others.
“So, al-Amazigh has arranged to kill us all,” he said, and looked to Hassan. “Why? Do you think Ollivier knew the truth of it?”
Tiredly, the old man shook his head. “I could not say. It is true that he worried about your association to Temür, but of mine? He must know I would not compromise the freedom of our people. Perhaps it was to keep some other truth from me.”
“And what of the marsouins?” Yasmeen asked. “Do you know how or when he became acquainted with them?”
“Yes. There is a man—a weapons smuggler, the one who will provide the explosives for the tower. He told Kareem of the marsouins , and said that if ever he needed to complete a job, they were the men to contact. This was several months ago. Kareem has contacted them several times, I believe.”
“What is the smuggler’s name? Do you recall?”
“Of course. He is called Mattson.”
Miracle Mattson, who Yasmeen had shot in his