Holly's arm was about to drop off when the cord finally frayed enough for her to break it with one good push. She stumbled out into the bedroom and blew out an exhausted breath. Looking around she could see no sign of occupancy and it seemed incongruous that a man the size of Nikoli wouldn't leave some impression. Her purse sat on the dresser and oddly, so was her cell phone. She tossed the towel and the shard of glass on the bed, grabbed her things and left the hotel room on the run.

"Oy, Holly! Where are you? What happened?"

Holly sat on a client chair in the lobby of a downtown bank. A taxi sat idling at the curb waiting for her. She hadn't formed a plan of what to do but wanted to assure Jacob that she was okay, where she had been and explain in private, why the shop was left unattended. She also needed more money; taxis were taking all her cash. "I'll give you all the details later. Did a young guy about thirty or so come back asking about the cards?"

"The cards are gone." Jacob opened the desk drawer again and stared morosely.

"Gone? Son-of-a-bitch! Look on the desk there should be a card from a Sydney something- Court. Sydney Court."

"Got it. Who is he?"

"The rat that stole your Tarot deck."

"Are you kidding me? He stole it? How?"

"Details later, Jacob. Right now I have to get hold of Malcom and give him a heads up. Give me the number off that card and I'll see what I can do when I get a chance." Holly wrote down the number and then hung up, promising to be in touch soon. She looked in her phone index and punched in a number.

"Holly Lakefield, it must be a favour you're needin'." A tinge of inconvenience in the gravelly voice.

"I love you too, Andy, and you're right." She read off the number and asked him to get her an address.

"Another angry suitor?"

"Good one, Andy. No, this time it's a guy that ripped Jacob off." She could hear his computer keyboard rattling noisily.

"Oh, oh. And the formidable Holly is about to play teacher."

"I am. So what have you got?"

"You really expect fast service don't you, darlin'?" He chuckled and drew a breath. "Sydney Court, 134B Oak Lane. It's a fourplex in the west end."

"I know the area. Thanks, Andy, I owe you one." At least the card seemed legit.

"Actually, lass, it's another... and I'll be curious to know exactly what."

"The excitement of knowing would rock that ancient ticker of yours," she laughed.

"Aye, and it could probably use it too. Good luck with your hunt, Holly. Love and kisses."

"Back at you, Andy." Her next call was to Malcom.



"Is he always like that?" Daniel asked Ross as they rode the elevator down to the lobby. Ross had returned when summoned and was treated as if he'd never been thrown out of the office just a few moments earlier.

"I wouldn't know. It's the first time I've ever said more than, good morning to him. First time I've even been in the friggin' office." Ross pointed the way to fire door exit when they left the elevator. "Likely the last too; the old bastard coulda killed me. I mean, who needs this shit?"

"He must have better moods, his secretary didn't seem upset or surprised." Daniel saw Nick at reception watching them as they headed for the back stairs.

"You probably wouldn't either if you made her money. Somethin' he doesn't share with us lowly types." He unlocked the door and they stepped outside. "Here." Ross stood looking at the scattered cardboard and slapping his new baton in his hand. "Gone."

"You sure?"

"Pal, if you had seen this guy you'd know he was gone. He damn near filled the alley. We left him under that pile of cardboard." Daniel scoffed and instantly wiped the smirk from his face when Ross turned on him. "You think I'm kiddin? You wise ass or somethin'?"

Daniel held up his palms. "Down guy, it just sounded funny." He urged himself to concentrate on the five thousand.

"Yeah, well it sure as hell wasn't." Ross banged the side of the dumpster with an angry fist and they both froze as the metal box seemed to groan aloud.

"What was that?"

Ross raised his new baton and gingerly lifted the heavy lid, arm cocked for action. The first thing they saw was a pair of boots with trousers crumpled around them and when Ross shoved the lid all the way open they saw the owner... Hardy Pinkerton.

"Help me get him out," Ross climbed up and grabbed Hardy's legs, dragging his shins over the edge of the sharp bin. Daniel tried to help but before he could get a grip, Hardy bounced over the edge and landed head first on the ground with Ross holding him like a wheelbarrow. "Oops."

They manhandled him inside and up the stairs, through the lobby past several stunned visitors awaiting the elevators and into the security office. Ross indicated a cot by the wall and they bundled him onto it, straightening him out as best they could.

"He needs a doctor," Daniel said. "Look at his face. Dropping him didn't help either."

Ross gave him a dangerous look. "Yeah, I wonder who should call."

"Excuse me. You call. Just dial 911."

"Oh no, not me. You saw what DeWhitt was like when I broke in on you guys. He doesn't need to hear my name attached to anything else negative around here." Ross held up his palms and backed away... right into Connie who came around the corner wrapped in a large towel.

"What the hell...!"

"Connie! I thought you'd gone?"

"I was taking a shower, you mind? And who is this guy, this isn't a club house for Christ's sake?" She ignored her appearance and their stunned stares. "What did you do to Hardy? Look at his face!" She went over and bent down, peering at his battered face and disheveled appearance. Daniel and Ross both visually consumed the exposure of the back of her firm thighs, vanishing tantalizingly under the hem of the towel. Connie shook his shoulder gently and then ran her hand over his shorts, huffing at the result. "He really needs a doctor."

"You can call then," Ross said, lifting his eyes rapidly as she turned around. "And don't bother arguing, he's your buddy. I've had enough of this place today."

Connie looked at Daniel.

"Uh-uh, I'm already too involved with this nut house." He turned to flee the room.

"Who's he?" Connie asked.

"Another guy whose gonna make more money in a day than I do in a year." Ross growled.

Daniel stopped. "Hey, this is a one time deal for me and I didn't come asking for it, your boss made the call. And who the hell are you anyway, lady?"

"Oh she's another guard- oh, sorry- our boss's new pet security guard. And they say employment is unequal for women. Crap, that's what I say!"

"Crap is what you're full of, Ross." She turned and went back to the shower room.

"Think she'll call?" Daniel asked.

"Yeah, she'll call. Hardy's her exercise machine." Ross scowled. "So what about you now, what are you gonna do for your big bucks about finding the dame?"

"Not much I can do. Who knows where these guys are?"

"Hey, wait a sec." Ross dug around in his pocket and came up with the hotel folder he'd taken from the Russian. "This was on the guy we towed out to the alley, might be a good place to start."

Daniel's eyes lit up and he reached for the folder.

"Cost you, bug bucks."

"Get off it," Daniel scoffed.

"Fifty bucks and it's yours."

"What a prick." Daniel dug into his wallet and came out with a twenty. "It's all I've got left until this dame is found. I never did get the five hundred he promised."

Ross snatched the bill away and tossed him the folder. "Good luck."

"Thanks."



"My God, Holly, are you hurt, did they hurt you? What happened? How did they find you?"

"I'm fine, Malcom. A few little aches and pains but nothing really. I just called to let you know and to warn you that it is Davidov's boys and they are at a hotel in town. There are three of them as far as I can tell, although two of them would make about a dozen. The boss is a guy named Gregory."

"Gregory Pietroff, I know. He's a relentless bugger. I've met him in the past."

"Well he's still after the Rodin, Malcom. He murdered Jean don't forget."

"I know... one came here already. Our security staff took care of him, fortunately."

"That must be the one they were looking for."

He cleared his throat. "Listen, did you see the guy I had looking for you?"

"No, what guy?" Holly felt a jolt of surprise. Malcom wasn't noted for being the altruistic type. "I'm calling from a restaurant phone; I didn't want our conversation to be noticed."

He described him and as Holly listened she recognized Sydney Court. "I sneaked him your card when I was grabbed." She considered Sydney's actions with some surprise. "So he actually called you?"

"Yeah, and I offered him some money to find you."

The surprised dwindled. "Hope you didn't pay up front."

"Nah, and anyway, you're safe so I don't have to pay at all."

"Does he know? Are you in contact?"

"No to both."

"I guess he's going to have a time saving me then. Listen, Malcom, I know this didn't begin as your fault but if you don't go to the police whatever happened from here on will be your fault and I'm not keen on being any part of it."

"Don't be like that, Holly. You're safe now so just stay out of things."

"That might not be my decision, they already found me once and I don't even have the damn sculpture. You need the cops on this one."

"Give me just a little time, Holly, I can get this all sorted out without police interference. Please?"

She exhaled, knowing she was going to concede. "One favour in exchange."

"Anything... well..."

"Yeah, I know. If that guy shows up or calls you I want to know where to find him."

"Why?"

"That's my business. Deal?"

"Deal."

Holly hung up and left the restaurant, taking her waiting cab to the nearest woman's shop and bought a winter jacket then she headed for the address of Sydney Court.

It was a disappointing location on a nothing special street in a nothing special fourplex. It wasn't the kind of setting a player in expensive collectibles would choose. She had pegged him as a low level rip-off artist and opportunist... not to mention, thief. Her knocking and bell ringing produced nothing; he wasn't there, or at least he wasn't answering, and she had no other clues to pursue. Holly left Sydney's building without a plan. She thought she'd better get back to Jacob's and show him that she was all right and get a fresh change of clothes. She arrived at the shop looking a little harried and sank onto the corner of the desk.



Gregory clamped his lips tight and steadied himself on the edge of the dresser as he listened to Nikoli's report. It was all he could do to restrain himself from attacking the man. Almost a week had passed since he was sent to find Anton and had not called in once. Anton had required medical attention and most of his was due to maneuvering him around the various hospital venues for tests and treatment.

Nikoli droned on with his report. Gregory's visions of romping with the luscious Valry at his dacha dwindled with each successive statement. Yes, he'd found Anton, but his visit to the DeWhitt building had been a failure. The woman had escaped and now they were likely exposed to the authorities. If he had to call Davidov and report that news he might as well kill himself right now.

Gregory took in the dull features of his subordinate and curdled with almost uncontrollable anger inside. "Where is that oaf now?"

"In room resting. His face very swollen from spray and leg also swollen."

"Well tell him he's not paid to swell or rest, he's paid to get results! You get back to that shop and find that woman or get whoever is there to give information." A fat hand pounded the top of the dresser, rattling the drawers.

"You will be here?"

"Somebody has to report to home office," came the sour answer. "Now go!"

******

Daniel had scouted the hotel the following day with little success. The desk clerk was no help whatsoever and he didn't have a clue as to how to locate the Russian's room except to go knocking on every door. He returned to his home and took a time out. He considered his options regarding the Tarot deck deciding to shelve that interest for a bit and tackle his newest opportunity with a little more determination. As long as he didn't have anything more to do with that Mickey Mouse security team he'd be fine. He spent some time taking care of bills and other personal business. Lucky that guard didn't press him for more money. He did a food and beer shop to replace his larder and then set off for another assault on the hotel.

Public transit was beginning to suck but his money had to stretch even further than before—all the more reason to get the five grand—and it took him most of the morning transferring to get around the city to the hotel.

He entered the lobby, pleased to see a different person on the desk, and ambled up wearing a big smile. The young woman at the desk looked up and smiled in return as he approached.

"Good afternoon, sir. Welcome to the Armbridge Hotel."

He nodded and leaned casually on the counter. "I'm trying to locate a fellow that I think is staying here. I don't know his name but he's about the size of a small bungalow and he has a friend the same size."

"The Russian gentlemen." She giggled. "They are a size aren't they."

"So they are here? Could you tell me what room?"

"I'm sorry, sir. We can't give out that information but you can call them on the house phone if you like. Just dial nine, give the name and the operator will connect you."

"I don't know the name. That's the problem you see."

"Well I can't see how I can help you then." She gave him a very sincere crease of her flawless brow.

Daniel put on his forlorn puppy look and raised his voice slightly. "Please, it's really important that I speak to one of them. Please?"

"Well if you turn around right now you'll see one of them just going out the front of the hotel."

Daniel spun around in time to see the wall of material exit the lobby. It was the same one from the shop and he took off with a brief wave of thanks to the clerk. Out on the street he saw the huge man lumbering toward a van parked on the opposite side of the street, the same one he'd used to snatch the woman. He ran across the road and arrived at about the same time, calling for attention and slowing as the monolith stopped and revolved to face him.

"Hi. I'm looking for the woman you removed from the junk store, remember?" His gall surprised and scared him but he felt pretty secure on a busy street in broad daylight.

Nikoli made a face and looking intent, pulled at his expanse of chin. "Get in van. I take to her."

"Uhmm... maybe just tell me, I don't want to be a bother." He couldn't tell for sure but the tiny object that appeared in Nikoli's hand could have been a gun. Probably was a gun. Daniel climbed into the van and held on, his security quotient dipping severely. As Nikoli squeezed behind the wheel it settled like a Citroen and the seat was so far back Daniel had to turn sideways to talk to him.

"Listen, it's not all that important..." The closest hand rose with astounding speed and rammed Daniel's head against the side window. He groaned as he heard his teeth clank together and he swiftly regretted his tactic... then it didn't matter.



It had taken a while to assure Jacob that she was fine and she had insisted on cleaning up before giving him the detailed version. He reluctantly he agreed. The fate of his Tarot cards wouldn't change in the next half hour—he hoped.

Nothing had changed in the next few days; Jacob had insisted she just stay in and relax, and although her fingers were still sore from sawing her way out of the bathroom, she was fine otherwise and determined to pick up her life. She slipped into a loose, lightweight skirt with a short-sleeved blouse and a pair of comfortable pumps and came down from her room changed and refreshed from her shower.

Jacob brightened as she entered the shop. "A ray of sun." He clasped his hands dramatically, disturbed that she was carrying her coat. "Going out?"

"I'm still interested in getting your Tarot deck back. That guy just stole it, Jacob and I don't think he knew squat about Tarot cards. Damned funny though, wasn't it, when that lug was dragging me out I passed Malcom's card to him and he actually called him."

"Holly, forget the cards. Digging around out there could put you right back in the middle of Malcom's problems. He's letting it get far too dangerous to leave the police out of it."

"You're probably right but that's not my call, Jacob." She sat up on an old bar stool with a black vinyl covering. "This is Malcom's baby. I told the guys that grabbed me I had nothing to do with the actual sculpture. They don't have any reason to bother me anymore." Her bravado was strictly for his benefit.

"You think. They held you still, didn't they? Holly, please. For an old man's sake."

"Old man, what a load of crap." She smiled and tilted her head appreciatively at his obvious concern. "I'll be fine. I just want to find this Sydney Court and sort him out."

Jacob slapped his hands against his legs and turned away. "I tried," he said to his empty shop. "What if you can't find him? What if he isn't home again?"

"So maybe we can find him through Malcom. Malcom promised him money if he found me and also promised to let me know if he got in contact. He might just go back and plead for something for his time. He struck me as a bit of a scammer." She hopped off the stool and went to the computer.

"What are you doing?"

"I'm Googling our Mister Court. Did you ever try phoning him at all?"

"Uh- no... should I?"

She gave him an eye roll and then paused, reading something on the screen. "Hmmm, no information in the birth certificates. Nothing in the motor vehicle section." She took out her cell phone and punched a number.

"Holly, lass, was the number any help?"

"Not yet, Andy but not your fault. He just wasn't home. I need another favour."

"Aah, lassie, I'm just an old man with not much time left on this earth. Favours need to be collected for or what's the purpose?"

"You are only fifty-two, Andy, and you know I'll repay you." She seemed to have an orbit of self described old men.

"Aye, but how, that's the eternal question?"

"If it's too much trouble then forget it, I'll find another way."

"Hold on, hold on. I didn't say no, I just expressed concern for my balance sheet."

Holly had to laugh. She knew exactly what he meant by 'balance' sheet. "Your mind is rarely above the covers is it, Andy? Are we doing business or not?"

"You win. I'm just a simple old man—"

She cut him off and stated her needs. "Sydney Court. I need all you can give me on him—and I mean all. And soon."

"I'll call you." The reply sounded defeated and she thanked him with a little syrup in her voice and a kiss blown down the line. She got up from the computer and grabbed her purse. "I'm off, Jacob. I'll keep in touch."

"You'll need that jacket outside; it's cooling off quite a bit."

She nodded a smile and grabbed it from the back of the chair, slipped it on then gave him a hug.