Shit…hadMarcus known?
“Did Marcus know the penguin was fake?” Jansen demanded.
Cole blinked. “I’m sorry, did you think you were the one asking quest?—”
“I want to know how bad he fucked me over before I decide how much to fuck him over,” Jansen growled.
“You’re in jail with a broken arm after trying to steal a copy of the Iberian Puffin.” Cole shrugged so indifferently, Jansen wanted to deck him. “I think he pretty well fucked you over.”
“But did he know the?—”
“Marcushasthe real one,” Cole growled, patience clearly gone.
Jansen’s teeth snapped together. He clenched his fists, the movement making the pain in his arm a million times worse. “That… son of a…”
“Uh-huh. Exactly.” Cole rolled his hand in the air. “So… where is he?”
“Maybe I want to be the one to kill him.”
“From here in your jail cell with a broken wing?”
Ugh. Fine. He had a point. Jansen scowled. “He didn’t tell us much. He was going to meet us in Newark today, but…” He waved his uninjured hand. “Anyway. He’s planning to sell the penguin to Jacques-Louis Campeau.”
Cole pinched the bridge of his nose and released a string of profanity that would’ve made a sailor blush. “Fuck’s sake. Notthatguy.”
Jansen snorted. “Who else could it be? Campeau’s got the money, and he lives to be a walking, talking fuck-you to Alders. Of course he’s going to buy something that Alders lost.”
“Except Jacques-Louis isn’t stupid enough to buy something that hot.” Cole wiped a hand over his face and sat back in his chair, suddenly looking about as exhausted as Jansen felt. “He knows damn well it would get confiscated in a heartbeat.”
Jansen pursed his lips, wondering how far he should tip his hand.
Cole cocked a brow. “If you’ve got something…”
Jansen considered it. He fucking hated that Cole had his balls in a vise right now, but there wasn’t much he could do about it. “One condition.”
Annoyance darkened Cole’s features. “Pretty sure you’re not in a position to?—”
“One condition.”
Cole worked his jaw. “Fine.”
“You spring Eli out of here.”
“He’s already out,” Cole said with a shrug.
“He—what?”
Another shrug. “I was planning to talk to him first, but his attorney sprung him last night. He never even saw the inside of a holding cell.”
It was Jansen’s turn to curse up a storm. That motherfucker! They were partners, for God’s sake! In this one job, anyway, and they definitely weren’t friends, butcome on. He huffed sharply. “That dickhole.”
“Uh-huh. So…” Cole rolled his hand again. “What’s this extra tidbit you’ve got for me?”
Jansen took a deep breath. “Marcus has documentation that the penguin is a fake. He’s going to submit it to Alders’s insurance and to the cops to prove it was fake.”
“But we know it’s fake,” Cole said. “Everyone saw it shatter. And I thought you didn’t know the one you were stealing was fake.”
“I didn’t. I thought the one we were grabbing was real. But he’s got documentation he was going to use to tell Alders’ insurance it was fake to screw him out of the payout.”
