Chapter 10

“It’s none of my business but if I may remind you of the time
when you did something you knew was wrong. It wasn’t called a crime.
And I’m not saying that you should give a sucker an even break.
I’m talking about the time that you were cruel for cruelty’s sake.
I’m talking about the time that you were cruel for cruelty’s sake.”
-Warren Zevon, “The Sin”

Note: It has come to my attention that there is a real company called FinTech, and they do, indeed, make tablets. That’s my fault for not bothering to Google if the name was taken and was not intended as any disparagement or endorsement of them or their products. Henceforth, San Finzione’s tech company shall be SanFinTech. And yes, I Googled it first. We apologize for any misunderstanding.

Prints had been found on the device installed at the hotel. With Interpol and La Policia cooperating, it took about an hour to bring back a match. Back at Interpol’s San Finzione office, Supervisor Luc Tomas Allaine took the paper that the office printer had just spit out and returned to his desk. Generalissimo Hernando Ramirez was waiting in his office.

“And now we have our hacker.” Luc told Ramirez. “Spencer Malone. AKA Lone Star. The man is from Texas, but the hacker handle refers to the hero of the film ‘Spaceballs.’ A top hacktivist until he realized there was no money in it. A long list of cybercrimes is attached to his name. I’m not aware if he’d know enough to build such a device himself, but he’d certainly be able to instruct Sinclair in its installation.”

“You thought the smoke bombs they used in New York were designed by an expert chemist. This sounds like something that would take an electronics expert to put together.”

Luc thought on that.

“Oui. Acid and custom-made smoke bombs on the Eye of Andalusia job. And then being able to meet the tech requirements on the Star of Uongo. And they found La Contessa’s secret entrance somehow. You’re suggesting there might be a tech person on their team. Someone apart from Malone, with more in-depth knowledge.”

“So, now we seek a fifth person.” Ramirez observed. “It’s unlikely that their still-unknown disguise expert is also versed in this kind of science.”

“Malone may have picked up some other skills of which we are unaware. Another professional like the others is the simpler solution, though. Hackers tend to know things besides sitting at a micro, but this is too specialized. Oui, our crew has now expanded to five.”

Luc’s office phone rang. The receptionist told him that Prefect LeGrasse of La Policia was on the line. Luc took the call. The Prefect told him about the theft at the Ministry.

“Oui, that is something I would want to know. I can be there momentarily.”

Luc ended the call and stood to leave. Ramirez got to his feet.

“Something?” The Generalissimo asked.

“An expensive piece of equipment has been stolen from the Ministry of Science. The Prefect thought I would be interested, and we have just been talking about how their team must have a tech person, so he was right! If this is Sinclair, Walker, and Malone’s people; and it would be a big coincidence if it were not, this is a hopeful sign.”

“It is?” Hernando asked as they walked to his car.

“Oui. If this is our crew, it means they are still in town. That we have been correct in our guess that they are waiting for the buyer to arrive. And since they’d have no other reason to steal this thing after the fact of the Star job, that they must be planning something else in San Finzione.”

Ramirez took out his phone and texted La Contessa the hacker’s name and told her of the theft and that he and Luc were going to the Ministry. He had new things to tell her, and he hoped to have more soon.

Hernando hoped that whatever her looking into matters entailed, she was making as much progress.

Contessa Helena de San Finzione’s limousine pulled up to a single-story bungalow in a slightly-less well-to-do part of La Collina, closer to the Marketplace. Nigel Mander stepped out and held the door for her and Susan Bailey. From within the bungalow, the sounds of blistering death metal blared.

“All right.” Helen told Susan as they approached the door to the bungalow. “With The Suede, there’s kind of a procedure to things. Just don’t say the name until I do. And then let him tell you the story. Then we’ll get what we need from him.”

Susan was puzzled that Helen wouldn’t just mind control the answers out of him like she’d done with the Don but indicated that she’d go along. Helen rang the bell. The death metal from within the house ceased.

A man with piercing blue eyes and a balding head of long, blond hair opened the door. Susan’s immediate thought was of Riff Raff from “The Rocky Horror Picture Show.” Then the man smiled and opened the screen door.

“Helena!” Lars Nilsson said, speaking English for his unexpected guest. “And Mander!” He turned to Susan. “You, I don’t know, but you are with Helena and Mander, so haj! Please come in. I am making tea, but I can easily put on some cocoa for you.”

As if to accentuate his point, the kettle started whistling. He motioned for them to come in and take seats in the living room while he hurried into the kitchen. When he was out of the room, Susan leaned over to Helen and whispered.

“Do all of San Finzione’s criminals keep cocoa on hand in case you stop by?” She asked Helen.

“The smart ones.” She replied. “The really smart ones also keep ash trays handy.”

Lars returned with a tea service. A couple of packets of instant cocoa leaned alongside the pot of water that he hadn’t added the tea to yet so that Helen could get her cocoa first. Lars tore open a packet, poured the powder into a cup, then filled it with water and handed it to Helen to stir to taste. He then began making the tea and offered Susan a cup. This being her second visit with San Finzione’s criminal element of the day, she accepted. He then took an ash tray off the tea service and set it before Helen. She took her cue to light up.

“Now.” Lars said, taking a seat in a comfortable chair. “I have been watching the news, Helena. I know that you have a lot to do with foreign dignitaries in town and with your birthday coming up. So, if you’ve taken time out of your busy day to come see me, it must be important.”

“It is, Lars.” Helen acknowledged. “I’m trying to locate two men that we know have recently come to San Finzione. Gordon Walker and Morris Sinclair. And in my inquiries into them, The Street whispered the name of The Suede.”

Lars pounded his fist on the coffee table, causing his teacup to jump. Susan jumped a little too when he sprang to his feet.

“They are still calling me that? This is why I am retired.” He pointed to Susan. “You. I take it you have also heard of The Suede?”

Susan floundered for a moment. The name obviously upset the man. She chose her answer carefully.

“Um, only by reputation. And only today.”

“Susan’s a civilian.” Helen explained. Lars nodded.

“I see. Well, Susan, I am Lars. My apologies for not asking earlier, but I had to see to the kettle. Also if I startled you just now. I am a bit excitible, you see. I can understand, then, why you might not have heard of The Suede. Or why I am called that. But before I retired, I was somewhat known in the world of theft. Are you familiar with the Galleria d’Arte Moderna Ricci Oddi?”

“That doesn’t sound like a museum I’ve been to in San Finzione, so no.” Susan admitted.

“It is not. It’s in Italy, in Piacenza. You are a friend of Helena’s, so I presume it is safe to talk to you about these matters.” Susan nodded, imagining that it was also safe to talk to him if he referred to La Contessa as Helena. Susan also observed that this was the first time she’d seen Helen not speak to someone in their native language. But then she figured that Helen was doing it for her benefit and for the sake of the San Finzione tradition of accommodating a newcomer’s language if one is able. “In 1997, some friends and I stole a priceless painting from the Ricci Oddi; Klimt’s Portrait of a Lady. I was twenty-four at the time. One of them later got caught with a forgery, I got away with the original. This emboldened me to strike out on my own and set out to become ‘a world-famous cat burglar.’

“Again, I was twenty-four. I was young and stupid. And in my youthful stupidity, I decided to give myself a name. I was to be ‘The Swede’. Because I am Swedish, you see. Again, young and stupid. And I would leave my famous calling card with each increasingly daring and elaborate theft. I actually made a calling card; you see. A beautifully calligraphed card that said, ‘With Love, The Swede.’”

Susan sat on the edge of her seat and listened.

“So, what happened?” She asked him. Lars saw that he had an attentive listener and continued.

“I decided to dream big for my first solo score. I’d already stolen a painting, so a jewel heist seemed like the next obvious choice. A private collector in Boston had some valuable stones, so he was my target. I briefly romanced his secretary and got his personal schedule, so I knew when he’d be out of town. I acquired the construction plans for his home and even found out who provided his home security and broke into their offices. To learn everything I could about defeating his setup.

“The plan went off without a hitch. I cracked the safe, got away with the loot, and left behind my calling card. Nothing to do now but turn on the television and read the newspapers and watch my legend grow. So, I did so.

“The first news report was a television broadcast. And with the reporter’s Boston accent, ‘The Swede’ came out ‘The Suede.’ The newspapers picked it up from there, and I was The Suede. I continued leaving my calling cards but stopped for two reasons.

“The first was that ten years after the movie came out, I finally saw ‘Home Alone.’ And you know how, when they catch the Wet Bandits, they nail them for all their crimes because of their calling card? I realized that was me waiting to happen. The other reason was that after the media reported that I was The Suede, everyone thought that I must have spelled it wrong when my cards read The Swede. Or worse, that I was an imposter, copycatting The Suede’s crimes. Until I saw that movie and gave up the idea, I was The Suede. And to some people, I have been ever since.”

He looked over to an empty spot on the wall.

“I kept Portrait of a Lady for years. By then, she was too famous to sell. My other jobs had made me enough to retire comfortably, so why not keep her? Then, three years ago, I decided she belonged to the world and returned her to the Galleria. Wrapped her in a garbage bag and left her behind some ivy for a gardener to find. The others eventually confessed but were kind enough to leave me out of their confessions, and that was the end.” He took a drink of his tea. “And that is why I am The Suede. Whether I like it or not.”

Susan sensed that the story was over.

“Well,” she said, taking up her own tea. “It sounds like The Swede has had a far more interesting career than The Suede.”

The Swede smiled at that.

“And I thank you, Susan. But Helena did not come to hear that story again.” He looked up at Mander. “And Mander would have taken a seat and had some tea by now if this weren’t business.”

“I’m on the job now, Lars.” Mander told him. “Stop by for a beer later, maybe.”

Lars understood. He turned back to Helen.

“So, how can a retired thief help San Finzione’s greatest one?”

Helen gave a little nod at that.

“I’m looking for two men. One of them is in your old line of work, the other’s his partner. I’m told you know them.”

“Well, I don’t listen to The Street much anymore. You know, because it calls me The Suede.”

“You know how that goes, Lars. Even if you ignore The Street, it still listens to you. And it listened when you talked about Sinclair and Walker. I’m told they pulled a job in Sweden you knew something about. I’m looking for anything on these guys.”

“I went back home to Stockholm for a holiday last year. And to catch Sabaton in concert.” Lars explained. “I can do that, because even in my stupid days, I knew enough to not steal in two places: The country I called my home and the country I planned to retire to. I talked to old friends, of course. And one of them introduced me to a pair of Americans who wanted to rob the Gold Room of the Swedish History Museum. They’d heard of The Swede and actually called me The Swede, and they wanted any information I had on the place. Now, again, I never stole in Sweden, but that didn’t mean I hadn’t thought about and plotted such things. I shared my insights. They were appreciative.”

“I’d heard they were after jewels, but The Street’s been wrong about details before. So, did they pull it off?” Helen asked.

“Of course not!” Lars laughed out. “How much security do you think they would have on a place called the Gold Room? I heard some security guards were badly beaten, but the two of them managed to make it out. There was a manhunt for them, but they got out of the country.”