Justin put up his free hand and shook his head again. “I’m telling the truth! I swear! I don’t know a?—”
“Okay, that’s enough.” Cole grabbed Justin’s other sleeve and half-led, half-dragged him to the edge of the pier. The Frenchman screamed and struggled the whole way, but he was still limping badly, which meant he couldn’t put up much of a fight.
Just shy of the edge, Cole savagely knocked Justin’s injured knee out from under him. The man howled and staggered, and then he was hanging over the water the same way?—
The same way Will had been hanging before Cole had pulled him back.
That thought nearly derailed Cole, but he shook it away and shoved Justin farther out over the water. “Tell me the truth! How are you working for Ekström? And where do we find him?” He pushed the screaming man just a bit farther. “Because that water is fucking cold, Justin.”
“No! No! Please!” Justin flailed and screamed. “Don’t throw me—please don’t kill me!”
“I won’t kill you,” Cole said. “But I can’t be sure the water won’t, so…”
“Okay! Okay! I’ll talk! Just—pull me back in! Please!”
“Talk first.”
“Pull me back in!” Tears were streaming down the man’s face now, and he babbled in both English and French.
“Tell me where to find Ekström,” Cole demanded again.
More babbling. More sobbing.
“Man, I’d talk,” Will drawled behind Cole. “This fucker’s crazy, and if he wants to make you go for a swim, there ain’t much I can do to stop him.”
Justin wailed helplessly. Then he settled a little, as if surrendering to his fate. Through his tears, he finally said, “Jacques-Louis said a mutual friend referred me.” Showing his palms, he blubbered, “I don’t know who the mutual friend is! I swear! He didn’t tell me! He just promised me fifty grand for this meeting.”
Cole huffed sharply. “And you didn’t ask questions? Didn’t think maybe there was a reason Ekström wouldn’t come himself?” He inclined his head. “Are you just devoid of survivalinstincts beyond making sure your parachute is correctly packed?”
“Kinda, yeah.” That was Will.
Cole twisted around.
Will shrugged. “Hey, I’m as surprised as you are that he survived that fall.” Nodding toward Justin, he added, “I’d bet money that parachute opened by accident.”
Cole blinked. Then he faced Justin, whose expression was a mix of humiliation and offense.
“Tabarnak,” he spat at Will. “I have survival instincts!”
“Oh yeah?” There was a grin in Will’s voice. “That why you’re two seconds away from annoying this asshole into dropping you?” He slapped Cole’s back so hard, Cole very nearly lost his grip on Justin.
Justin shrieked in terror, windmilling his arms before grabbing Cole’s jacket. “Don’t let me fall! Please!”
“Fuck’s sake,” Cole grumbled. “Okay, so we’ve established you’re stupid and gullible. Where were you going to meet up with him afterward?”
“Wh-what do you mean?”
Cole rolled his eyes. “After you sold Campeau the Puffin—where were you going to meet him to give him the money?”
Justin stared at him. There was the immediate fear, of course, but also some dawning horror. The blood-turning-cold expression of someone who just realized that Nigerian prince wasn’t who he said he was and now had the person’s banking information.
“Christ.” Cole’s arms were getting as tired as his patience, so he hauled Justin upright, then shoved him down onto his knees on the pavement. Justin whimpered, probably from hitting the hard ground with his kneecaps, not to mention bending his already injured leg.
“Please don’t kill me,” he begged.
Cole rolled his eyes again as he shook out his arms. “I’m not going to kill you. I’m just tired of fighting gravity.” Rubbing his burning biceps, he said, “Where were you going to leave the cash?”
“I…” Justin wavered a little on his knees, as if still reeling from no longer dangling over the river. “Campeau was going to wire him the money. After I showed him the penguin, he’d wire it to Ekström, and once I saw the confirmation, I’d hand it over.”
