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“The magazine’s publicity department has contacted every business news desk in the city. They wouldn’t have done that unless she had something big.”
“Is it fatal?”
“Could be.”
“And you’re sure the story is about me?”
Silk nodded.
“Is the FBI involved?”
“My sources say not.”
“So where is it coming from? And why did several of my investors choose today of all days to flee the fund?”
“It’s possible that rumors are swirling in the art world about a damaging story in the works. But the more likely explanation is that you are under a coordinated attack by a determined and resourceful adversary.”
“Any candidates?”
“Only one.”
Silk didn’t speak the name; it wasn’t necessary. He had opposed targeting a man like Gabriel Allon but had relented when Phillip offered him a payment of $10 million. Silk had given a substantial portion of that money to a French organization known only as the Groupe, the same organization that had handled the Valerie Bérrangar job. He had also supplied the Groupe detailed information regarding Allon’s travel plans—specifically, his intention to pay a visit to an art gallery on the rue la Boétie in Paris. Even so, the Israeli and his friend Sarah Bancroft had managed to escape the gallery alive.
“You assured me that Allon was no longer an issue,” said Phillip.
“The video of Ms. Navarro’s arrival here earlier this afternoon would suggest otherwise.”
Phillip frowned. “Is Tyler Briggs on your payroll or mine, Leonard?”
Silk ignored the question. “She took several photographs of the painting that was on display in the gallery. Close-ups and wide shots. Looked to me as though she was trying to establish its location.”
Phillip’s expression darkened, but he said nothing.
“Did the two of you discuss business after you were finished in the bedroom?”
“In detail,” answered Phillip.
“Was your phone with you?”
“Yes, of course.”
“Where was hers?”
“I assume it was in her handbag.”
“It was probably recording every word you said. You should assume your phone is probably compromised, too.”
Phillip swore softly.
“I’m afraid to ask.”
“I had two rather candid calls with Kenny Vaughan. I also tried to obtain an art-backed loan from Ellis Gray of JPMorgan Chase.”
“Because several of your largest investors just happened to withdraw from your fund on the very day that Ms. Navarro was in your home taking pictures of a painting.”
Phillip clambered to his feet.
“Sit down,” said Silk calmly. “You’re not going anywhere near her.”
