“To New York. After that, they were booked on a flight to Las Vegas.”
“The woman?”
“It’s odd. That was obviously a marriage proposal, but her name is Gretchen Mirabaud on her passport.”
Valerian picked up his cell phone. “I have to call Sophie and tell her that someone might have seen Raphael. Do we know where they’re staying in Las Vegas?”
“We don’t have any information on that.”
“I’ll need a plane ticket,” Valerian said.
“What would you do in Las Vegas?” Bastien asked. “Walk up and down the Strip and look for him in the crowds?”
“My son might be there! He might be alive!” Valerian turned to his phone. “Sophie, we think that there might have been a sighting of Raphael. It might be an imposter. It might be a scam. We mustn’t get our hopes up. But he might be in Las Vegas, in the US.” He listened. “Of course, I’m going. Can you send a bag? Thank you. I’ll call when I know more, and I’m texting some things.” He hung up.
“I think we should make discreet inquiries—”
He held his phone above the passport photocopy and tapped the screen, taking a picture. “We need to contract with every private investigator we can find, perhaps a private security outfit. Mercenaries. Can you send me the link to that video?”
“We can’t hire mercenaries, Valerian.” Swiss law forbade employing or utilizing mercenaries.
“That law hasn’t been enforced for decades. If I need mercenaries to bring my son home, then I will hire mercenaries. Never mind. I found the link by searching. That’s him.That’s really him.”
“I think that it’s ill-advised—”
“Damn it, Bastien. I’m going. Hold down the fort here. I’ll need you to take my appointments this week. I don’t know when I’ll be back, but if Raphael is out there, I will find him.”
“If you go blustering off, the Ilyins might notice. They might follow you. They might kill him just as you’ve found him again. If we take things slowly, discreetly—”
“The Ilyins aren’t watching for signs of him,” Valerian snapped. “It’s been, what, fifteen years?” He paused. “It’s been almost as long since he disappeared as the time that we had with him. God help me, I’m going to find Raphael and bring him home.”
Bastien’s phone rang on Valerian’s desk, chiming and vibrating.
Valerian pushed it toward Bastien. “Take my appointments. I’ll call if I find him or if I have a date that I’ll be back.”
“The bank needs us both here. You can’t go running off like this.”
“If Anaïs had been missing for fifteen years, you would have ripped up the soil of the Earth to find her if you believed that she might still be alive.”
“As you did when Raphael went missing, but this is an unsubstantiated sighting.”
“He used his passport, and that’shimin the video. That’s hisvoice.That’s his face. I know it. I feel in my gut that he’s not dead, and I’m going to bring himhome.”
Valerian continued to make plans, and Bastien walked from the top floor office back to his own.
As he’d suspected, Valerian might bankrupt himself going after Raphael.
Someone needed to find Raphael, if the man in the photo and video was indeed Raphael Mirabaud.
The Russian Ilyin crime syndicate had many millions on deposit with Geneva Trust. Hundreds of millions, if not more. They were one of Geneva Trust’s largest clients.
If the Ilyin Bratva found out Raphael Mirabaud was still alive, they would spare no expense finding him. They would be fanatical about it until they had dealt with him.
Bastien bit his lip, considering his options.
