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More pointed questions needed to be asked, but Lucasdidn’t want to risk making the man clam up. “You’re lucky to be alive. We weren’t sure you’d make it. Have you had family visit?”
Kostin did a slow blink and shook his head. “No family.”
The silence stretched out until Vince shifted his bulk and folded his arms across his chest. “Look, I’m not going to pussyfoot around. You had only one reason to be on that second floor—you were looking for something. I’d like you to tell me what you were looking for and who sent you.”
Confusion clouded the man’s eyes, and he raised the head of his bed a few inches. “I don’t remember.”
It could be true, but Lucas wasn’t ready to buy it. “Does the name Ivan Bury mean anything to you?”
“Sounds Russian.”
“He is. You know him?”
Kostin’s frown deepened. “I don’t think so.” He rubbed his forehead. “Could you send the nurse in? I don’t feel so good.”
They were getting nowhere here, so Lucas beckoned for Vince to follow him, and they backed out of the room. Lucas stopped at the nurses’ station. “He’s asking for a nurse. He claims not to remember much. Has the doctor said if he has memory issues from the injury?”
“It’s not uncommon with a trauma like he suffered,” the nurse said. “I’ll go check on him.”
She wasn’t offering up any information, but then, Lucas hadn’t expected her to. He’d had to try at least. He and Vince went back into the intense sunshine of midday.
“Now what, buddy?” Vince asked.
“Back to the office,” Lucas said. “I want to research that Bury guy.”
“You can read my printout. Nothing ties him to any crime organization. He seems to be a rich Russian who has a major interest in Russian art. He possesses some of the Fabergé eggs already. Lives in Moscow but travels all over the place constantly.”
They drove past the bank, and Lucas spotted the officer staking it out. It seemed all was well there, but maybe they should consider moving the egg. The whole thing with the impostor from the auction house made him uneasy. What would be the guy’s next move? The fake William Taylor had held the egg in his hands. He wouldn’t walk away.
Lucas parked at the police station, and he went to their office while Vince stopped to speak to Bernard about another case. Lucas dropped into his desk chair and pulled a yellow pad of paper to him. Lists always helped him organize his thoughts, so he grabbed a pen.
Debby Drust, burglar. How did she know to look for the egg—Dimitri Smirnov? Find him.
Anna Martin, murdered. Balandin cousin but dead end.
Elizabeth Durham, Mary’s missing twin—FIND HER!
Grace Adams Hill, home was burgled.
Ivan Bury, has reward out for discovery of the egg.
Kelly Cicero, large amount of money transferred to her from Bury. Attacked—needed to silence her?
William Taylor. Who is he really and how did he get email Carly sent?
Three possible groups after the egg? Roger Adams, Russian mafia, Ivan Bury.
This case spiraled in so many directions that Lucas didn’t know where to look first. About the time one thing came to his attention, another came along before he’d fully investigated the first one. Now that he had a list, he saw he’d left way too many clues unfollowed. There had to be a common thread connecting these events. Where should he start first?
The door opened, and Vince stepped in with Bernard. Lucas spun his pad of paper around for them to review. “I need some direction. Take a look at the events that have happened and see if you can find a common link and suggest where I should look first.”
Bernard picked up the pad and scanned it with Vince looking over his shoulder. “Lot of things here. Some of them are out of our jurisdiction.”
“But we can find out what’s going on with the investigations.”
“You left out something,” Vince said. “Eric’s death seems to be connected too. And he was more involved than we realized since Kelly got all that money and he was supposed to allow someone to go through Carly’s workshop.”
“You’re right.” Lucas took back the notepad and jotted down Eric’s death. “If I could decide which string to pull first, the others might all unravel to where I could figure this out.”
