Enigma Variations
Table of Contents
Excerpt
Enigma Variations
Copyright
Dedication
Acknowledgments
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
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“Mister Vincent,” Jutting said, clearing his throat. “I’m disappointed.”
“So am I,” I replied.
“What have you to be disappointed about? You’re the one who has invaded my property, seeking to steal from me.”
“I wouldn’t call it stealing. I’d call it recovering stolen property. The notes you have that were used by Saint Martin to decode the enigma were stolen from a friend of mine. I simply want them back.”
Jutting’s eyes flashed with anger. “Wolhardt is a fool! He had no idea how to use the information. The one useful thing Nigel Bathmore ever did for me was stealing those notes. Of course, he didn’t intend to be doing me a service. The idiot thought I would pay him.” Jutting laughed, a short bark that echoed around the room and rang in my ears.
“Still, you can’t really call it stealing.”
“I’ll call it what I like, Mister Vincent. You are in no position to argue semantics. I’m afraid I have important business to attend to this evening. Your presence is not wanted. You will remain our guest here in this room until morning. My people will turn you over to the chief constable tomorrow along with your possessions which are rather incriminating. I understand there are quite a few tools in your backpack specifically designed for breaking and entering. Chief Constable Doyle is a very loyal friend of mine. He will know just how to deal with you.”
“Interesting. I assumed you would just get rid of me.”
Enigma Variations
by
Bradley W. Wright
The Justin Vincent Series, Book 2
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales, is entirely coincidental.
Enigma Variations
COPYRIGHT © 2020 by Bradley W. Wright
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission of the author or The Wild Rose Press, Inc. except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.
Contact Information: info@thewildrosepress.com
Cover Art by Jennifer Greeff
The Wild Rose Press, Inc.
PO Box 708
Adams Basin, NY 14410-0708
Visit us at www.thewildrosepress.com
Publishing History
First Crimson Rose Edition, 2020
Trade Paperback ISBN 978-1-5092-3240-6
Digital ISBN 978-1-5092-3241-3
The Justin Vincent Series, Book 2
Published in the United States of America
Dedication
For S & T and all the robot eagles
Acknowledgments
The material quoted in Chapter 13 is from The Autobiography of Benvenuto Cellini, in public domain, found at:
http://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/4028
~
Special thanks to Kevin Dolan (AKA Dino OʼDell) for advice and consulting on music theory matters.
Special thanks also to my editor Laura Kelly for not giving up, and forcing me to make this a better book.
Chapter 1
Two Brothers
May 25-June 6: Nice, Genoa, Paris
I borrowed my girlfriend Gabrielle’s BMW and left for Genoa mid-morning. We had attended an opening the night before and then stayed at Gabrielle’s apartment in town. I crept slowly along the Promenade des Anglais and up narrow, sun dappled streets. Traffic was light passing through the industrial outskirts of the city. Soon I merged onto the A10, leaving modern civilization behind, rolling back and forth between tranquil sea and low, green hills inland. I had made the trip up and down the coast several times but I was not yet immune to its charms. The Ligurian seaboard, unlike the melodramatic, breathtaking coast of my home in northern California, was warm, inviting, and restful to the eye. The drive from Nice to Genoa would take about two and half hours. I had plenty of time to admire the scenery. The American Bach Soloists’ recording of the Mass in B Minor came on the radio and I settled back in my seat as the first chord exploded like an epiphany of golden light from the speakers.
I was on my way to meet Signor Petru Ortoli about a job. I had very little information about Ortoli aside from his address in Genoa and his name. He was an associate of Santu Cartini, Gabrielle’s father. I assumed he was, like Signor Cartini, wealthy and connected to an old Corsican family. He was probably also connected to organized crime. Close association with mobsters was not something I would have chosen but I had fallen into that world while completing my previous job and had stayed there because of Gabrielle.
Driving that coast I thought about the escapade that had led me to the south of France and introduced me to Gabrielle. I thought about Benoit Legere, the psychopathic lawyer who had come very close to killing me before he took a fatal fall from a cliff in the hills outside of Nice. I thought about Patrice Antonetti and his chateau in the country with a basement crypt full of stolen art. It seemed like years ago but it was only six months since I had stood in Antonetti’s secret gallery and realized the painting I had come to recover was a fake. He had been double crossed by his associates back in San Francisco. I got the real painting back eventually. I didn’t know whether or not he ever figured out his copy was a forgery. We hadn’t heard a word from him. I had seen him a couple of times at events I attended with Gabrielle but he stayed away, across the room, and seemed not to even notice us. He knew Gabrielle’s father would not let him live if anything happened to her. He probably assumed I was under similar protection.
I thought, too, about the months I had spent with Gabrielle—hiking in the countryside, reading by the fire in the evenings, drinking a little too much, eating a bit too well. I felt dissipated and unsure of my own identity. I had been away from my home for too long. I yearned for some kind of activity. I needed to