The Pretender's Gambit

“I am cooperating. I turned myself in. Surely you can see that I am cooperating.” Rao kept his voice calm and easygoing, offering no threat nor confrontation.

“I need to know about the elephant piece.”

“I will not discuss that.”

“A man was killed last night, probably for that elephant. You understand how that is important, something I should know.”

“I did not kill him. I have not been inside Maurice Benyovszky’s building. Your investigation will confirm that. Or, at the least, not be able to put me inside that building.”

“Are you boasting?”

“I am merely stating the truth as I see it.”

“Professor Nguyen—” the detective laced his fingers together on the table “—maybe you don’t understand your circumstances. Potentially you’re in a lot of trouble here.”

“Have I broken any laws?”

“None that I’m aware of, but you’re at the center of a murder, and that makes you a material witness. I can hold you on that alone for a time.”

Rao had not known that. That revelation did make things more complicated.

“Tell me about you and Calapez,” McGilley went on.

“I do not know anyone named Calapez.” Rao guessed that must have been the name of the man inside the diner, the one who had come at him shooting. Rao was not lying. He did not know the man’s name, which was what he had stated, but he had known the man was also after the elephant.

“You seemed to know him earlier.”

“Calapez is the man who was in the diner.” The name of the man was new to Rao. He filed it away. “He had a weapon and seemed intent on using it. I reacted.”

“I saw you when you recognized him. I know you knew him then.” McGilley laced his hands around his coffee and Rao knew the man was drawing warmth from the hot liquid. “He knew you, too.”

“He has said this?” That would be interesting, and it would mean that the man who had sent Calapez to get the elephant knew more than Rao and his superiors had reckoned.

“I’m asking the questions.”

“Of course. I meant no disrespect. I did not know the man’s name until you mentioned it now.”

“How do you know him?”

“Only through a chance encounter earlier. He struck me as a violent man. A killer. I am certain that if you look into his background you will discover this for yourself.”

“Where did you encounter Calapez before this morning?”

Rao considered that quickly and thought that he would not be risking too much by telling the truth. “In Phnom Penh.”

“When?”

“A few days ago.”

“What was he doing there?”

“I do not know.”

The detective frowned in irritation. “Where did the two of you meet?”

“We did not meet.”

“Where were you when you saw Calapez?”

“In the museum where I sometimes work.”

The detective checked the file. “At the national museum?”

“Yes.”

“And you don’t know what Calapez was doing there?”

“No.”

“Between you and me, I don’t think Calapez is much of a history buff or art lover.”

“I do not get that impression either.”

McGilley paused for a moment as if to let that sink in. “What brings you to New York?”

“I came to see Mr. Benyovszky, as I told you in the diner.”

The pupils of the detective’s eyes dilated, giving away his excitement even though he remained stone-faced. “Did you and Mr. Benyovszky know each other?”

“No. We had exchanged email and a few phone calls.” Rao knew that would check out if the police checked Benyovszky’s phone records. He did not want to get caught in a lie. That would complicate matters regarding the recovery of the elephant.

“You should really tell me about the elephant.”

Rao didn’t reply. He had learned what he could from the policeman. They knew nothing about the elephant. McGilley asked more questions, but Rao remained silent. Finally, in frustration, the detective got up and left the interview room.

* * *

“WHAT ARE YOU going to do with him?” Annja watched Nguyen Rao through the one-way glass.

Bart’s aggravation showed in the hard lines along his jaw and the stiffness of his neck. He tossed the folder onto a nearby table. “I’m going to sit on him, hold him as long as I can. Sooner or later, someone will come looking for him, and when they do, I’ll know more.”

“Maybe I could talk to him. He did offer to speak to me, too.”

Stubbornly, Bart shook his head. “No. That’s what this guy wants, for whatever reason, and I’m not agreeing to any of his demands. I want him to sweat, let him sit in a box for a while to soften him up. I’m betting he feels more like talking then.”

“What if he doesn’t?”

“Then we’ll discuss you talking to him. If he still wants to.”