"I need to see him."
"I know, and he would like to see you, but there are complications."
"The Crow?"
"Has been taken care of." Urakov sets down his cup. "You do not need to worry yourself over him."
He never mentions dead, although there's no way anyone could survive that fall, not after taking that many shots.
Paul is barely clinging to life, and he only took one bullet. His injury must be more serious than I've been led to believe.
"Agent Larson will be here shortly, and a representative from your father." Urakov shifts in his seat.
"Why is my father involved?"
"After we contacted Agent Larson, they notified your father."
And my overprotective father will storm in—not to save me, but to provide damage control on anything remotely threatening the Faulks name. He will demand my immediate return to the States where I will linger until properly wed to my contracted fiancé.
"How much time do I have?"
"Not much." He pauses. "And I suspect the American consulate, along with your father?—"
"I have no doubt what will happen next. I'm a civilian contractor for the FBI. With how this turned out, they'll want me as far from this case as possible. My father will want me even further." I clasp my hands in my lap. "Please, I need to see Paul."
"I'm very sorry, but I don't see how that's possible." He shakes his head.
I never get to see Paul before they force me from Geneva.
Larson arrives a few hours later, bringing with him my chauffeur, Jacques. My father's instructions can't be denied, so I return home on a private jet without discussion.
Larson debriefs me before my departure. Paul's identity as the Starling is known. They've been using him to ferret out larger prey. Larson asks how much I know, and I admit to discovering Paul's identity as the forger and thief. I keep to myself the secret of his cache and the more important revelation of Merlin being alive.
However, Merlin might not have survived the night. The Crow mentioned Paul being forced to make a choice.
All my life, I've wanted to meet the mystical Merlin, a mystery to the world. Like everyone else, I believed his name was derived from the stories of King Arthur, never understanding its true roots.
It makes sense, though.
Merlin was a predator, the Starling a mimic, and the Crow a thief.
Three men, all bound together by one man's vision—steal from those who stole from others. Return what they can.
Somewhere along the way, the Crow took a darker path. And then there is Catherine.
A woman who came between two brothers.
One day, I hope to hear the whole story.
I spend the next few weeks on lockdown at the Faulks estate. My father debriefs me, but his questions make little sense. He isn't interested in the case, the auction, or the recovery ofDr. Gachet.
Instead, his questions center on how Paul entered my life. He wants to know aboutThe Loversand grills me incessantly about the Starling and Merlin. Unlike Larson and Urakov, my father knows nothing about Paul being the Starling, and I will make sure it stays that way.
My father's frustration intensifies, but he believes my lies. As his paranoia deepens, my need to know something of Paul's fate increases. One day, I wander the halls of the estate until I stand before the painting that started it all.
I stop short at the empty expanse on the wall.
The Loversno longer hangs on display.
