Brandenburg by Glenn Meade

Author:Glenn Meade [Meade, Glenn]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Action & Adventure, General, Suspense, Thrillers, Fiction, Espionage
ISBN: 9781451688238
Google: oPIDo9Q6sXwC
Publisher: Simon and Schuster
Published: 2013-04-02T04:00:00+00:00

28

ASUNCIÓN. 6:32 P.M.

Every light inside the house appeared to be on, the mestizo butler nowhere to be seen.

They were in the study. The two detectives and Lieber. The big detective smoked a cigarette as his companion sifted through the contents of Lieber’s walnut desk. The locks had been forced; papers and documents lay scattered on the floor.

Lieber looked at the big detective palely. “You have no right . . .”

“Señor, I have every right.”

“May I remind you that I am a personal friend of the police commissioner’s . . .”

“And might I remind you that my search warrant is in order.”

Lieber examined the warrant, signed by a magistrate. “If you’d only tell me what it is you’re looking for . . . ?”

“I told you already.”

“I don’t know what photographs you’re talking about. All I know is that my property has been damaged. And that this is a flagrant abuse of—”

“Please, señor. Spare me.” The hooded, sleepy eyes regarded Lieber carefully. “If you simply tell us where the photograph albums are, it would help matters.”

“I really don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Sanchez ignored the faked innocence on Lieber’s face. “As I explained already, they were taken from the house of a friend of yours the day after he killed himself. Tsarkin’s butler already told us. Really, señor, you’re wasting my time.”

Lieber swallowed. “I refuse to speak until I’ve contacted my lawyer.”

“As you wish. You have a safe in the house?”

“A safe?”

“A safe for personal belongings. Businessmen usually have one, and you own several businesses in Asunción, señor. An import-export agency. A property-development company.” Sanchez paused, letting Lieber know he’d done his homework, saw the man’s eyebrows rise. “So, do you have a safe here in the house?”

“That’s none of your business.”

“Señor, you can be agreeable and cooperate. To do otherwise will certainly not help your situation.”

“And what is my situation?”

The big man scratched his ear. “If I’m unsatisfied with your replies, I will arrest you on suspicion of being an accessory to the murder of one Rudi Hernandez, journalist. And two other murders also.”

“That’s quite ridiculous,” Lieber said hoarsely. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

The detective ignored Lieber’s words. “You haven’t answered my question. You have a safe?”

Lieber considered, then slowly took a set of keys from his pocket. “In the bedroom upstairs facing onto the driveway, you’ll find a painting. A Vermeer copy. Behind it you will—”

Sanchez took the keys. “I know.”

He handed them to the detectives. The men left. Lieber heard their footsteps ascend the stairs.

Left alone with the big man, Lieber glanced around, said amicably, “Amigo, there must be some mistake. You know, I have friends in high places, people who could—”

The detective raised his hand to silence Lieber. “Please. Spare me.” He sat down, produced a cigarette, lit it. “My men will search the rest of the house again. This may take some time.”

“My lawyer—”

“I suggest you remain silent,” Sanchez interrupted, smiling thinly. “I’m sure you are quite happy to do that.”

Lieber pursed his lips and said nothing.

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