Page 47 of Vow Of Fire

“Here it is.” She opened it up on the screen. “This is my record on all my customers and buyers.”

I scanned the list. There were a lot of names.

“I’m breaking all privacy regulations by showing you this.”

My scowl was still very firmly in place. “Do I look like I care?”

She sighed and scrolled in silence.

“There,” she said, pointing to the screen. “Except it looks like those sales were one-offs.”

“Explain.”

“We never dealt with those customers again. Chloe couldn’t find much on them either, by the looks of things.” She pointed to the records with very little information in them. “I’ve got the directors’ names, but I doubt they’re real.”

She was probably right. “They’ll have forged their signatures or gotten someone unconnected to sign.”

She squinted at the document. “They all used the same buyer though.”

That could be something. “I need a name.”

She drew in a sharp breath. “Ricardo Sánchez. I remember him now. He bid by telephone. His English was excellent, but he did have a slight accent.”

“What about contact details?” I was already pulling out my phone to call my brother.

“I think so.” She clicked a different tab and brought up a list of intermediaries. “Here it is.”

She enlarged the page so I could see the email address and phone number. It was an American cellphone provider.

I stood up and called Nico. He answered on the second ring.

“Hey, Nico. I need everything you can find on an art buyer. Name’s Ricardo Sánchez.” I gave him the details.

“What do you need them for?” Nico asked, but I heard the pen scratch as he wrote down the name.

“Could be linked to the guys who ambushed our shipment.”

There was a long pause, then he said, “Thought that was Malakov.”

“Nah, not Malakov. At least I don’t think so.” I glanced at Evelyn, who shook her head. There was no tell on her porcelain face. No flicker of an eyelid. No nervous twitch.

I turned away. I didn’t want to admit it, but I might have been wrong about her.

“These guys were also using the gallery to clean their cash.”

“How do you know that?”

“I’m looking at the customer spreadsheet now.” I kept my gaze firmly planted on the wall.

“Am I missing something?” Nico said slowly. “Mother said you’d taken care of the gallery owner.”

It was my turn to hesitate.

“You didn’t do it, did you?”

“Not exactly.” I waited for the explosion I knew would come.

“Jesus, Dante. You know she’s going to go apeshit.”