The Sword Read online

  How could he get to Branmore? He couldn't very well walk in and claim to be a relative or friend. With Branmore's history, a Japanese visitor would not be welcome.

  At the moment, there were fifty-six residents in the home, almost all of them at an advanced age. Many had Alzheimer's. Almost all required assistance to move around. There was a single security guard at night, hired to make sure no one wandered out of their room and hurt themselves.

  The solution to the problem of Branmore, when it came, was absurdly simple.

  SIX

  Nick got back early in the evening. Elizabeth and Stephanie listened to him describe the interview.

  "The place was depressing as hell," Nick said. "Not a good way to end up when you get old."

  "Do you think he was telling the truth?" Stephanie asked.

  "He didn't have any reason to lie. Branmore thought he was talking to someone he knew in the Army, someone he spent time with in Tokyo. He remembered the sword well enough. When he finally realized I wasn't the person he thought I was, he freaked out. By then he'd told me about divorcing his wife. He said she got the sword in the divorce. He was pretty bitter about her."

  "Assuming she was around the same age as Branmore, she could be dead by now," Elizabeth said.

  "Maybe not. Maybe he married somebody younger."

  "There'll be records of the marriage and the divorce," Stephanie said. "I'll find out who she was. Once I know that, I can track her down."

  "I'm going home," Nick said. "I'm beat and I want to see my kids."

  "Let's meet tomorrow morning around nine," Elizabeth said.

  Nick went out to his car and headed back to Washington. Traffic was heavy leaving the city this time a day, but going in was easy. He parked in the underground garage of his building and took the elevator up to the loft.

  The six story building had once been industrial and manufacturing space. When gentrification hit the waterfront, it had been converted into six large units, all with windows facing the Potomac. The door to Nick and Selena's loft opened onto the main living area. Past that was the kitchen. The polished wood floor was strewn with fuzzy animals and toys. The twins were playing in the middle of the floor with Anna, the nanny. They looked up as he came in.

  "I'm home," he called.

  "Dada, dada," they cried in unison.

  They had both reached crawler stage. Jason and Katrina started toward him. He knelt down, picked them up, and hugged them. They giggled.

  "Hey guys. What's up? Hi, Anna."

  "Hello, Nick."

  "Dada!"

  Katrina squirmed. Nick let her go.

  He looked at his kids. He loved their smiles, their innocence.

  "Where's mom?"

  Jason looked at him and pointed in the general direction of the rest of the loft.

  "I don't see her," Nick said.

  Jason tugged at his shirt, pointing. "Da!" Selena came out of the bedroom.

  "There she is," Nick said.

  "How was Buffalo?"

  "Depressing. How about we go out for dinner? Someplace nice."

  "I don't know. Maybe Anna's got something planned."

  "It's not a problem," Anna said.

  Anna Montalbano was a beautiful young woman. She had flowing hair and dark brown eyes. Her northern Italian heritage showed in the classic features of her face. Selena sometimes thought she'd stepped out of a painting by Botticelli. Anna had a BA in English Literature, which was one of the reasons she was working as a nanny. There wasn't a big market for people with degrees in English Lit.

  Once Selena had decided to hire Anna, she'd made sure she was trained in the basics of self-defense. Harker had pulled more than a few strings to get Anna a concealed permit. She carried a Glock 19 and knew how to use it.

  The twins were safe with her, when Selena and Nick weren't there.

  "You're sure?" Selena asked.

  "You two go out and enjoy yourselves. We'll be fine."

  "How about that Italian place near Dupont Circle," Nick said to Selena.

  "Let me grab a jacket."

  By the time they left the loft, Anna already had the twins engaged in choosing what they would eat for supper.

  "Thank God for Anna," Selena said.

  An hour later they were seated at the restaurant, waiting for the main course.

  "What did you find out in Buffalo?"

  "Branmore was in pretty bad shape," Nick said. "He thought I was someone he knew when he was in the Army."

  "What about the sword? Did he say anything?"

  "He remembered it, even showed me a scar where he cut his thumb checking the edge. He said it went with everything else in a divorce."

  "His ex got it?"

  "It looks that way. Steph will find out who he was married to and when they were divorced. With a little luck, the wife will still be alive. If not, maybe they had kids and one of them has the sword."

  "It's like one of those British mystery shows," Selena said. "Midsomer Murders, or Agatha Christie. Follow the clues until you find out what happened."

  "A lot like that, except we don't have any murders yet."

  "I hope it stays that way."

  He poured wine into Selena's glass and topped off his own. He took a sip and held up the glass to the light.

  "This is pretty good," he said.

  "We should do this more often."

  "How about we take a vacation, as soon as this sword thing is done?"

  "Where do you want to go?"

  "Someplace warm with beaches. Hawaii? Maybe Kauai? I've always liked that island, it's beautiful. Or we could go somewhere we haven't been."

  "There aren't too many places we haven't been," Selena said.

  "How about Costa Rica? Have you been there?"

  "Actually, I haven't. That might be fun. Somewhere on the Pacific coast. It would be different, anyway."

  "As long as there's a good beach and a good hotel," Nick said.

  "And palm trees."

  "Right. Lots of palm trees and piña coladas."

  Selena raised her glass. "Here's to piña coladas."

  Later, after Anna had gone and they'd checked on the twins, they made love.

  Afterward, they lay next to each other, cooling down. Selena turned toward him.

  "Promise you'll never leave me," she said.

  Nick looked at her, surprised.

  "What made you say that? I'm not going anywhere."

  "I don't know. Just promise."

  Nick leaned over and kissed her.

  "I promise," he said.

  SEVEN

  Outside the windows of Elizabeth's office, it was another beautiful day. It wasn't a good day for Kerry Branmore.

  "There's been a fire at the home where Branmore was living," Elizabeth said. "The interior was destroyed. Only a dozen people got out. Branmore is dead. They suspect arson."

  "Somebody torches the place right after I visit him?" Nick said. "That can't be a coincidence."

  "It does seem suspicious."

  "I thought I was the one with a knack for understatement."

  "We have to consider the implications," Elizabeth said. "No one knew where he was, except us. If it isn't a coincidence, it means someone followed you to find him."

  "Why kill him?" Selena asked.

  "That's easy," Nick said. "To keep him from talking to anyone else. The bigger question is who knew we were looking for Branmore?"

  "And why," Selena said. "Don't forget that."

  "Nobuyasu is the only one who is supposed to know whatever we find out about the sword," Nick said. "What would he achieve by killing Branmore?"

  "Like you said, it keeps him from talking to anyone else."

  "We haven't told Nobuyasu about Branmore," Stephanie said. "How would he know about him?"

  "Maybe he's having us followed," Nick said.

  "Have you noticed anything out of the ordinary?"

  "No, but I haven't been looking for it. I must be getting careless."


  "You haven't had any reason to suspect a problem," Elizabeth said. "Don't be too hard on yourself."

  "It could be Nobuyasu,," Selena said. "Or it could be someone else. Someone who knows Nobuyasu is looking for the sword. Something feels off to me."

  "What do you mean?" Elizabeth asked.

  "The sword is an important cultural artifact, but does that make it worth killing for? You can't sell it, except on the black market."

  "It would bring a lot of money," Nick said.

  "Nobuyasu's not interested in money, he's got plenty. He's no fool. He'd know we'd be suspicious about Branmore's death. The first thing we thought of was that he could be having us followed. If we decide he's responsible, we'll give him back his money and tell him to get lost. Why would he risk alienating us? He thinks we're his best chance to find the sword."

  "If it isn't Nobuyasu, who is it?"

  "I don't know," Selena said. "But I don't think Nobuyasu is behind it. It's not in his best interests."

  Given that no one is supposed to know about Branmore's location, the probability Nick was followed there is ninety-nine point six four percent.

  "Thanks, Freddie." Nick turned to Elizabeth. "There you go."

  Where am I going, Nick?

  "You're not going anywhere, Freddie. I was talking to Elizabeth. It's an expression, an idiom."

  I will add this information to my database.

  "The more I think about it, the more I think Selena is right," Elizabeth said. "I think someone else is involved."

  "Why?"

  "Nobuyasu could be checking up on us, but he wouldn't have to follow Nick. He knows we're going to give him periodic updates. All he has to do is ask what we've found out. He has no need to murder Branmore. There's no advantage to him."

  "Then we have to assume someone else wants the sword," Nick said.

  "Yes.

  "And that whoever that someone is, he's a ruthless son of a bitch who burns up a bunch of old people to kill one person and cover it up."

  "That's what it looks like," Selena said.

  "That puts us back at square one. Why is the sword important enough to kill for?"

  "Perhaps we should ask Nobuyasu."

  "He's not going to tell us anything."

  "What do you think we should do, Nick?" Elizabeth said.

  "Find the damn sword. We do that, it will bring the bad guys out of the woodwork. Everything will clear up."

  "On that note, we're one step closer to finding it," Steph said.

  "How so?"

  "I tracked down Branmore's wife. Her name was Ellen. She died nine years ago."

  "Any children?" Selena asked.

  "One, a son born in nineteen forty-eight. She married again in nineteen fifty to a man named Wilson. No children by him."

  "Is the son still alive?" Elizabeth asked.

  "Yes. He lives in Manhattan, on the Upper West side."

  "He must have some bucks if he's living there," Nick said. "Nice area, but the rents are out of sight."

  "He owns a construction firm," Stephanie said. "A big one. He's worth millions."

  "If he has the sword, how are we going to get it away from him?" Nick asked. "He's not going to hand it over because we ask for it."

  "Assuming he's got it," Selena said.

  "You could use the writer cover," Elizabeth said. "Tell him you tracked him down through his father. Make up a story about an article you're writing."

  "That might get me through the door. Or it might get the door slammed in my face. Ex-wives tend to be bitter. She might have turned him against his biological father."

  "Do you have a better idea?"

  "Not off the top of my head."

  "It might be better if I did it," Selena said. "He might be more susceptible to a woman asking him questions."

  "What are you going to do if it turns out that he has it?" Nick asked.

  "I'm not going to do anything. I'm going to let Elizabeth notify Nobuyasu. It's up to him after that."

  "I'm not so sure that's a good idea," Elizabeth said.

  "What's not, my going?"

  "Suppose he does have it. I'm worried about what might happen."

  "Like what?"

  "Like Branmore, for one thing. If someone is after the sword and is willing to kill for it, that puts his son at risk."

  "It also puts Selena at risk," Nick said. "I'm the one who should go."

  "Now just a minute," Selena said.

  "You know I'm right."

  "No, I don't. If there's trouble, I'm perfectly capable of handling myself."

  "I don't deny that. I'm thinking of the twins."

  "No you're not. You thinking of me as someone who needs protection. I have news for you. I can take care of myself."

  "Damn it, Selena…"

  Harker began tapping her pen on the desk, loud and insistent.

  "That's enough," she said.

  They looked at her.

  "You both go."

  "Director…"

  "Elizabeth…"

  Nick and Selena spoke at the same time.

  "You both go. That's my decision. Live with it."

  EIGHT

  Roger Branmore lived in a renovated four-story brownstone on West 87 th Street, two blocks away from Central Park. Trees were planted at regular intervals all along the block. They were in full bloom, shady and pleasant.

  A flight of steps rose past stone posts topped with weathered gargoyles to the front door of Branmore's house. It was three in the afternoon on a Saturday. Selena had called him the day before and fed him a story about researching an article for the New York Times. Nick had a camera slung over his shoulder as a prop. Branmore was supposed to be waiting for them.

  They looked up at the entrance. The door was polished oak, set with a small window of stained-glass and brass fittings. It looked expensive and solid.

  "Nice digs," Nick said.

  "He's obviously doing well," Selena said. "If I lived in New York, I wouldn't mind having a place like this."

  "We're supposed to be reporters, right?"

  "That's right."

  "Then let's go, Lois."

  "Lois?"

  "As in Lois Lane, ace reporter."

  "Very funny, Nick. I suppose that makes you Superman."

  "Finally," Nick said. "You figured it out."

  "Would you like to get serious now?"

  "Lead on."

  They climbed the steps and rang the bell. After a moment, Nick rang again. There was no response.

  "Try the intercom," Nick said.

  A brass intercom with a call button was mounted to the side of the door. Selena pressed the button and held it down.

  "Mister Branmore? It's Selena Connor from the New York Times. Are you there?"

  There was no answer.

  "That's odd," Selena said. "He was very clear about three o'clock being the best time."

  "He must have changed his mind," Nick said.

  He leaned up against the door trying to see in through the stained glass. The door moved.

  "It's open," he said. "This is New York. Who leaves their door open in New York?"

  "Nobody."

  He glanced up and down the street. No one was paying attention.

  "Come on."

  He pushed the door open and they stepped inside. Nick closed the door behind them. The latch clicked. He held his finger to his lips.

  They stood in an open foyer. Straight ahead, a hall carpeted with an oriental runner went toward the back of the house. A flight of stairs with a dark, wooden banister rose on the right. It was quiet in the house, the kind of quiet that felt like something was waiting to happen.

  Nick tugged on his left ear.

  Oh, Oh , she thought.

  The lobe of that ear was gone, shot away by a Chinese bullet on the day Nick had met Selena. Every time he pulled on his ear, it meant it itched. Every time it itched, something was wrong. It was a quirk that had come down to him from his Irish grandmother, a psychic
early warning system.

  A faint noise came from somewhere above, a single, soft thump.

  Nick signaled and they started up the stairs. He wished he had his pistol, but it was back in Washington. He no longer had the protection of the president and carte blanche to carry a weapon anywhere. It was a pain in the ass.

  They reached the landing on the second floor. Again, there was a hall. At one end, a bay window looked out onto the street below. At the other end, a door stood partially open on a bathroom. Two other doors were closed.

  If nothing was wrong and Branmore came out of one of those rooms, Nick was going to have some explaining to do. He'd look pretty stupid standing there, uninvited. On the other hand, his ear was itching like mad. He didn't think Branmore was going to come out of a room.

  They stood on either side of the door to the room nearest the front of the house. Nick sniffed. There was a hint of something foul in the air. He looked at Selena, touched his nose.

  Smell that?

  She nodded.

  He turned the knob and pushed the door open. It bumped against something heavy and yielding. He pushed it open far enough to get in.

  Branmore's body lay blocking the door. His head was missing. Blood soaked the carpet around him. A Japanese sword lay on the floor nearby. The air stank of blood and feces. Blood was splashed across the walls.

  The room was a study, a comfortable, masculine room with leather chairs and a desk. The desk had been ransacked. Papers and folders littered the floor. Behind the desk was a tall bookcase. All the books had been pulled away and dumped on the floor. There was blood everywhere.

  Branmore's head had been placed in the middle of the desk. The eyes were open. They seemed to accuse Nick.

  Where were you?

  There was no one else in the room. Nick looked at the bloody sword.

  "Is that the sword we're looking for?" he asked.

  "No," Selena said.

  A sound came from above. Someone was up there.

  Nick gestured at the ceiling. Selena nodded.

  They left the room and started up the stairs. Nick had almost reached the next landing when a figure in dark clothes came around the corner of the third floor hallway and barreled into him. He felt a hard blow next to his neck and the arm went numb. A second blow knocked the wind out of him and tumbled him backward into Selena. They went down, tangled together. The figure leapt over them and ran down the stairs. Nick gasped, trying to catch his breath. They heard the front door slam.