He glanced at her coldly, and she shrugged. “What? I watch Downton Abbey.”
“To continue. Now, if Saleem Lanighan is the child of the illegitimate Wiltshire line, he could be an actual blood relative of the Lion of Punjab, the last true owner of the Koh-i-Noor diamond before it was taken.”
“That would be incredible. What if he is a blood heir? Who would care?”
Nicholas sat back on his chair, crossed his arms over his chest. “We’re dealing in conjecture, and legends. If Saleem Lanighan is the son of the line, then he is the rightful heir to the Koh-i-Noor. Not that it matters, because the British will never give it up. I know there’s more to this. But what?”
“I don’t know, but we better order some coffee. It’s going to be a long night.”
80
Paris, La Défense business district
Tour Areva, Lanighan Enterprises
Saturday evening
Kitsune walked into the black skyscraper known as Tour Areva like she owned the place. The lobby was quiet, only a single security guard sat behind a half-moon desk. He was leaning back in his chair with his feet up, watching a video on his monitor, some high Hollywood production in the middle of a battle, from the screams and explosions and screeches coming from the computer. He snapped to when he saw her approach but didn’t turn off the movie.
“May I help you, ma’am?”
“Bonsoir.” She didn’t stop walking, merely flashed a pass at him, too quickly for him to read. “My boyfriend left his phone in his office. I’m going to run up and grab it for him.”
“I’ll need you to sign in.”
She abruptly turned, grabbed the pen from his hand, and scribbled on the white sheet of paper, then kept moving.
“I can’t read this. Where are you going?”
“Twenty-third floor. I’ll only be a moment.”
He nodded—how much of a threat could this small woman be, after all—and went back to his movie.
She smiled as she reached the elevator. She’d talked her way past hundreds of security guards in her day.
She took the elevator to the twenty-third floor, then ran up the stairwell to twenty-five.
Lanighan’s offices were down the hallway, and his state-of-the-art security system didn’t hold out long against Kitsune’s deft tools. She put the rake in the lock and pulled the trigger, listening to the tumblers whine, then clunk open.
When the latch on the door opened, the security system began giving off a quiet beep every second. She slapped a counter up on the wall, attached two metal butterfly clips to the alarm, and within moments, the counter had identified the numbers of the system’s passcode, inputted them, and bypassed the system. The alarm turned off with a small squawk, and all was silent.
She would have approximately three minutes before the alarm company registered the system at Lanighan Enterprises had been turned off and notified Lanighan of the breach. With luck, the guard downstairs wouldn’t be notified for five minutes, but just in case, she needed to work quickly.
Lanighan was first and foremost an art lover, like his father. On his computer was a comprehensive list of all the holdings of Lanighan Enterprises, and where each piece of art was kept.
Since he was holding Mulvaney hostage, she’d take his art away. Most of his net worth was tied to the collection. Wipe it out, and she’d take his fortune with her.
He’d left his desktop computer in sleep mode to save energy, and, luck of all luck, it didn’t have a password on it.
“Stupid man.”