chip.
“This is one he gave me after a job we pulled together in
Macau. Back when we were still talking.”
“Well then, all we have to do is wait. He’ll just follow his
usual MO and ransom it back.”
“I think he’s picked up some new moves while he’s been
away. This time he left a message.”
“What sort of a message?”
“A black cat. Dead. Nailed to the wall. The chip was in its
mouth.” He shook his head, as if to shake the grotesque im-
age from his mind, but found that every time he blinked, its
ghostly outline reappeared in front of him, as if it had some-
how been seared on to the back of his eyelids.
Archie sat down slowly on the opposite other side of the
card table. He picked the chip up and considered it for a few
seconds, then locked eyes with Tom.
“And you think it was meant for you, don’t you?”
“I think it was meant for Felix, yes.” Tom was surprised at
the instinctive anger in his voice. That name sat uncomfort-
ably with him now, reminding him of a past life and a past
self that he was trying to forget, to leave behind. Only Milo
was trying to drag him back.
“It’s a bit bloody crude, isn’t it, even for him?”
“He’s a showman. He likes to shock people.”
4 6 j a m e s
t w i n i n g
“What do you think he wants?”
“To let me know he’s back?” Tom speculated irritably. “To
show me that he’s not lost his touch? That he’s still number
one? Take your pick.”
“You don’t think it’s a threat?”
“No.” Tom gave a confident shake of his head. “We have
an understanding. More of a debt, really. Milo operates by
this old-fashioned code of honor, a hangover from his days in
the Legion. According to his code he owes me a life, because
I helped save his once. Until he repays it, he won’t touch
me.”
“But now you’ve swapped sides,” Archie reminded him.
“Whatever debt you two had don’t count for nothing no
more.”
“You mean we’ve swapped sides,” Tom corrected him,
with a nudge.
Archie mumbled something under his breath and fumbled
for his cigarettes.
“Do you have to?” Tom frowned as he lit up.
“I’ve been gagging for one all afternoon.” He took a deep
drag and sighed contentedly.
“Why, where have you been?”
“Over at Apsley House, remember?”
“Oh, yeah.”
“You should have seen the bird that runs the place.” He
rolled his eyes. “Fit as a butcher’s dog.”
“So you’re glad you went?” Tom laughed.
“I was till she gave me this,” Archie sighed, handing over
the CCTV still. “Now I’m not so sure.”
Tom studied the picture for a few seconds, attempting to
extrapolate the man’s face from the narrow sliver of his fea-
tures that hadn’t been obscured. He suddenly fi xed Archie
with an incredulous look.
“Is that Rafael?”
“That’s what I thought too. It’s the only shot they got of
him. He dodged the other cameras.”
“It can’t be him.” Tom shook his head in disbelief. “He’d
have let me know if he was over here.”
“You were away when this happened.”
t h e g i l d e d s e a l
4 7
“What was he after?”
“Part of a dinner service. They rumbled him before he
could get to it. He’s a better art forger than he is a thief.”
“A dinner service?” Tom looked up with a frown. “The
Egyptian dinner service?”
“You know it?”
“It’s one of a pair. I saw the other one once at the Kuskovo
Estate near Moscow.”
“Well, next time maybe he should try his luck there in-
stead,” Archie laughed. “He certainly ballsed this one up.”
Tom silently considered the grainy image, his brain furi-
ously calculating all the possible reasons Rafael might have
had to try and pull off a job like this. The problem was, none
of them made sense. Just like this picture didn’t make sense.
If Rafael had managed to avoid all the other cameras, why
allow himself to be seen in this one, even if he was only barely
recognizable? He
“This is one he gave me after a job we pulled together in
Macau. Back when we were still talking.”
“Well then, all we have to do is wait. He’ll just follow his
usual MO and ransom it back.”
“I think he’s picked up some new moves while he’s been
away. This time he left a message.”
“What sort of a message?”
“A black cat. Dead. Nailed to the wall. The chip was in its
mouth.” He shook his head, as if to shake the grotesque im-
age from his mind, but found that every time he blinked, its
ghostly outline reappeared in front of him, as if it had some-
how been seared on to the back of his eyelids.
Archie sat down slowly on the opposite other side of the
card table. He picked the chip up and considered it for a few
seconds, then locked eyes with Tom.
“And you think it was meant for you, don’t you?”
“I think it was meant for Felix, yes.” Tom was surprised at
the instinctive anger in his voice. That name sat uncomfort-
ably with him now, reminding him of a past life and a past
self that he was trying to forget, to leave behind. Only Milo
was trying to drag him back.
“It’s a bit bloody crude, isn’t it, even for him?”
“He’s a showman. He likes to shock people.”
4 6 j a m e s
t w i n i n g
“What do you think he wants?”
“To let me know he’s back?” Tom speculated irritably. “To
show me that he’s not lost his touch? That he’s still number
one? Take your pick.”
“You don’t think it’s a threat?”
“No.” Tom gave a confident shake of his head. “We have
an understanding. More of a debt, really. Milo operates by
this old-fashioned code of honor, a hangover from his days in
the Legion. According to his code he owes me a life, because
I helped save his once. Until he repays it, he won’t touch
me.”
“But now you’ve swapped sides,” Archie reminded him.
“Whatever debt you two had don’t count for nothing no
more.”
“You mean we’ve swapped sides,” Tom corrected him,
with a nudge.
Archie mumbled something under his breath and fumbled
for his cigarettes.
“Do you have to?” Tom frowned as he lit up.
“I’ve been gagging for one all afternoon.” He took a deep
drag and sighed contentedly.
“Why, where have you been?”
“Over at Apsley House, remember?”
“Oh, yeah.”
“You should have seen the bird that runs the place.” He
rolled his eyes. “Fit as a butcher’s dog.”
“So you’re glad you went?” Tom laughed.
“I was till she gave me this,” Archie sighed, handing over
the CCTV still. “Now I’m not so sure.”
Tom studied the picture for a few seconds, attempting to
extrapolate the man’s face from the narrow sliver of his fea-
tures that hadn’t been obscured. He suddenly fi xed Archie
with an incredulous look.
“Is that Rafael?”
“That’s what I thought too. It’s the only shot they got of
him. He dodged the other cameras.”
“It can’t be him.” Tom shook his head in disbelief. “He’d
have let me know if he was over here.”
“You were away when this happened.”
t h e g i l d e d s e a l
4 7
“What was he after?”
“Part of a dinner service. They rumbled him before he
could get to it. He’s a better art forger than he is a thief.”
“A dinner service?” Tom looked up with a frown. “The
Egyptian dinner service?”
“You know it?”
“It’s one of a pair. I saw the other one once at the Kuskovo
Estate near Moscow.”
“Well, next time maybe he should try his luck there in-
stead,” Archie laughed. “He certainly ballsed this one up.”
Tom silently considered the grainy image, his brain furi-
ously calculating all the possible reasons Rafael might have
had to try and pull off a job like this. The problem was, none
of them made sense. Just like this picture didn’t make sense.
If Rafael had managed to avoid all the other cameras, why
allow himself to be seen in this one, even if he was only barely
recognizable? He
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