by Marie Astor
Laskin looked perplexed. “Your office? What was the intruder doing breaking into your office?” He looked at Janet and Dennis in turn.
Dennis shrugged. “You heard the boss—let’s move it and find out.”
A few moments later, Janet was faced with the most bizarre picture: Tina and Ham were standing guard over a slumped male figure in one of the visitor chairs. Upon closer look, Janet saw that the man was young and slim with long black hair tied in a ponytail and a goatee beard. He was wearing skinny jeans and a black fitted shirt. His wrists and ankles were restrained with a telephone cord. Something about him looked vaguely familiar, but Janet couldn’t quite put her finger on it.
“Very innovative.” Dennis whistled, pointing at the makeshift restraints.
“I had to improvise,” Tina explained.
“Thank you all for getting here on such short notice,” Ham greeted them. “Sorry for ruining your evening, but as you can see we’ve got a situation on our hands.” Ham shook his head, visibly distressed. “People breaking into offices—what’s this world coming to?” For the first time in all the years they’d known him, their boss looked disheveled. His usually impeccably parted salt and pepper hair was all mussed up, his trademark argyle tie was hanging loosely on his neck, and his shirt collar was unbuttoned.
“No worries, chief,” Dennis assured him. “We’ll get to the bottom of this.”
“What a mess,” Ham groaned. “We’ll need to call the police. I hope we’ll be able to keep this away from the press—I can see the headlines now: Top intelligence agency gets broken into. Are they truly as good as they say they are? Or some gimmicky nonsense like that.”
“I have a solution to this predicament that would benefit everyone,” ventured their tied-up guest. “Let me go right now and we can all forget this ever happened. No police, no newspapers, and no negative publicity.”
Dennis gave him a sharp look. “What makes you think you’re a part of this conversation? You’ll speak when you’re spoken to.”
“You have no right to hold me here,” the intruder squirmed in his chair. “Release me immediately or I will sue you for illegal detention and inhumane treatment.”
Dennis put his hands on his hips, towering over the squirmy figure. “My, my—what a fancy vocabulary we’ve got for a thief. In case you’ve forgotten, you’re trespassing on private property. So you’d better shut it and wait your turn to speak.”
Laskin flinched. “Dennis, really, let’s try to remain professional here.
“Sorry, Peter,” Dennis apologized, instantly realizing Peter’s play for good cop, bad cop. Of course they weren’t cops, but the method never failed when questioning individuals with less than sterling backgrounds. “Just trying to set some ground rules.”
“Tina, can you tell us what happened?” Ham asked.
“Sure.” Tina nodded. “I left work around seven p.m. and went to the gym. It took me about two hours to finish my workout, and I was about to head home when I realized I’d left my wallet at the office. So I came back here and noticed that the lights were on. I walked in real quiet—the door was half-open and I saw this man inside this office. He was trying to open the safe—” Tina gestured at the safe that was in Dennis and Janet’s office.
“Did he open it?” Janet asked, realizing that was the safe Dennis had used to lock the painting in.
Tina shook her head. “I beat him to it. I asked him what he was doing here and he got violent—”
“I didn’t get violent!” the man protested. “I was merely startled by you.”
“You threw a chair at me,” Tina said bluntly. “That’s violent in my book. So I had no choice but to subdue him and restrain him with the telephone cord. Then I called Ham and informed him about the break in. I tried to question him before you got here, but he wouldn’t answer any of my questions.”
“Do you want to tell us why you broke into our office?” Dennis asked roughly.
“You have no right to hold me here,” the man retorted. “I won’t speak without my lawyer.”
“This kind of attitude won’t get you anywhere, buddy.” Dennis stared him down. “Looks like it’s going to be a long night.”
Laskin turned his attention to their office guest. “I apologize for my colleague’s behavior. Could I get you anything to make you more comfortable while we sort this out? A bottle of water perhaps?”
“Yes, that would be nice,” the man said quietly.
“Dennis, I remember you had a stash of Poland Spring here,” Laskin said.
Dennis grunted. “Jeez, Peter, what’s next to make our guest more comfortable—the shirt off my back?”
“I’m merely trying to be humane here,” Laskin shot back.
“Under the desk,” Dennis said dryly.
Laskin was about to hand the man the water when Dennis caught his hand in mid-air. “What have we got here?” he asked, leaning in closer. In one swift movement, he yanked at the man’s ponytail, tearing off his wig. Next, he pulled at his goatee, ripping it off.
“Ouch!” The man cowered. “That hurt!”
“Well, I suggest you stop breaking into places you don’t belong. Then it won’t hurt,” Dennis pointed out.
Janet gasped. Without his disguise, the man sitting in the chair looked exactly like the aspiring painter they had met in the airport while waiting for their flight home—the same man who had tried to switch Dennis’s bag that had contained the seascape painting they had bought in Antibes. Only now his heavy French accent had vanished completely. She exchanged a glance at Dennis, wondering if he had remembered—this could hardly be a coincidence.
“Imagine seeing you here,” Dennis said, clearly taken aback. “A struggling artist moonlighting as a thief.”
“You two know each other?” Ham asked.
“I believe we met before,” Janet said. She went over to the safe and opened it. “Is this what you were looking for?” she asked the intruder, holding up the painting.
“I have no idea what that is,” the man retorted, shifting in his chair. “Why would I want some cheap painting?”
“What’s a painting doing in our safe?” Ham demanded, looking baffled.
“I’m sorry, Ham. We were going to drop this off at a gallery to get the frame fixed. But we got so busy, we didn’t have time, so we left the painting in the safe overnight,” Janet said ‘we’ rather than singling Dennis out. “The frame got chipped because someone broke into our apartment last night and tried to steal it,” Janet added. “We should’ve told you about it, but we didn’t.”
Suddenly, Dennis bent down and grabbed the intruder’s shin.
“What are you doing?” the man struggled to break loose from Dennis, but his grip was firm.
Dennis yanked up his pant leg, revealing a bandage. “Proof. This was where Baxter got you when you broke into our apartment.”
The man tried to wrestle free. “What are you talking about? Who is Baxter?”
“Our Jack Russell Terrier who did a damn good job nicking you. I bet if we pay your place a visit, we’ll find a pair of pants torn in exactly the same spot,” Dennis added. “Now, do you want to start talking, or do you want to spend the rest of the night at the police station?”
The intruder held up his hands. “All right, all right! I’ll tell you everything.”
“Why don’t you start by telling us your name,” Dennis demanded.
“Can you please untie me first?” he said sourly, raising his hands. “I’m clearly outnumbered here,” he added, “so it’s unlikely I’ll run away.”
Dennis nodded. “Fine.”
“I’ll do it.” Tina stepped up. “The knots are kinda tricky.”
“I got it.” Dennis gestured for her to stay back. He reached down, but instead of untying the knots, he went for the intruder’s jacket pocket and yanked out his wallet. “Let’s see if you have any form of identification on you.” Dennis flipped through his wallet and clicked his tongue, pulling out the man’s driver’s li
cense. “Well, well, Leonard Stevens—pleasure to make your acquaintance. So why did you break into this office, Leonard Stevens? Start talking.”
“I’ll tell you everything.” Leonard squirmed in his chair. “It just would really help to be more comfortable. Please untie me—my wrists are getting numb.”
“What a ninny. Tina, could you undo the knots?” Dennis asked. “They are kind of tricky.”
“Sure, no problem.” Tina undid the restraints and carefully wound up the telephone cord. “I’ll hold on to this in case we might need it later.”
“What is it with you people?” Leonard exclaimed. “I’m not an animal. You can’t treat me like this.”
“That remains to be seen,” Dennis cut him off. “How about you start cooperating and then we’ll decide what to do with you. Why did you break into our apartment? And why did you break into this office?”
“For someone who holds himself out to be an investigator, you sure are very slow,” Leonard seethed. “The painting—I wanted the painting.”
“But you just said you didn’t,” Dennis retorted. “So which is it?”
Leonard smirked. “I lied. Thieves do that, a lot. Otherwise I wouldn’t be caught dead in your worthless little apartment—”
Janet gasped, in spite of herself. She’d put a lot of work into decorating their new place and the cutting remark, even if coming from some lowlife, hurt.
“Or this lousy office,” Leonard added testily.
Dennis kicked the leg of Leonard’s chair, moving it several inches. “So, Mr. Wise Guy, are you going to start talking or what?”
“I’m sorry! I’m sorry! I was just kidding,” Leonard screeched. “Can’t anyone in this room take a joke?”
“You’ve hurt my wife’s feelings,” Dennis warned him. “And I don’t think that’s funny at all.”
Janet put her hand on Dennis’s arm and squeezed it gently, signaling for him to let up. “Now, Leonard, why don’t you start from the beginning?” she asked calmly. “These last two break-ins weren’t your first attempt to get the painting, were they? You followed us at the airport in Antibes when we were leaving for New York and tried to switch my husband’s bag. Now is the time to tell us why you did that.”
Leonard leaned forward in his chair. “Very well. I will tell you—I am a finished man anyway,” he groaned, clasping his head.
“Hey, Lenny, enough with the theatrics already,” Dennis said gruffly.
Janet squeezed Dennis’s shoulder. “Give him a moment. Take your time, Leonard,” Janet reassured him.
“Thank you. I am very grateful for your understanding.” Leonard sat up in his chair and took a deep breath. “You were never supposed to buy that wretched seascape painting. The man who sold it to you, Maurice, mistook you for someone else who was supposed to come into the gallery at the same time. She got delayed and you happened to be there instead—”
Chapter 7
Twelve hours after Leonard Stevens’ unsuccessful attempt to break into the offices of Kirk & Associates, Janet, Dennis, and Ham Kirk entered a nondescript brick office building in Downtown, Manhattan. The building was no different from any of the surrounding buildings in the area—if they hadn’t been given the address by one of the senior officials at the FBI, it would’ve been impossible to guess that its walls contained one of the FBI’s most robust task forces.
It was nine a.m. and the lobby was busy with arriving employees. After checking in with security, they were escorted to the elevator bank and then down a gray-carpeted floor and into a gray-walled conference room.
“Director Edwards and Agent Norris will be with you shortly.” The secretary who had escorted them moved to close the door behind her.
Janet took a seat, doing her best to look alert. They had all stayed up late last night questioning Leonard and then had to spend several hours with the FBI until it was almost dawn.
“Who is Director Edwards?” Dennis asked Ham. “I don’t remember meeting him last night when they took in Leonard.”
Ham cleared his throat. He was just as worn out as Janet and Dennis were, but unlike them, he showed it in his appearance—his eyelids were droopy, with dark circles underneath, and his usually erect shoulders were slumping. “Gus Edwards is an old friend of mine,” Ham said. “We go way back. He used to oversee Organized Crime, but I guess he got transferred. A pleasant surprise for a change.”
“Did they tell you what this meeting was going to be about, Ham?” Janet asked.
“I don’t have any specifics, but my hunch tells me we hit on something very big. Leonard Stevens may be a petty thief, but he’s working for someone far more important.”
“So his crazy story checked out. Then we really must be onto something big—that’s a pretty quick turnaround, even for the FBI,” Dennis said. “And here I was, thinking Leonard was feeding us nonsense.”
“Did they examine the painting—is it really what Leonard said it was?” Janet asked nervously. “I still can’t wrap my head around the fact that we bought a stolen painting by accident.”
“I wasn’t given any specifics over the phone this morning, but I’m sure we’ll find out soon enough,” Ham replied. “The bureau has some follow up questions for you and Dennis as well.”
“This ought to be interesting. A gang of international art thieves—adds a nice ring to our resume, don’t you think, Janet?” Dennis winked. “I can’t wait to hear what the bureau dug up on this Leonard fellow.”
“I just hope we’re not the ones under suspicion,” Janet retorted. “After all, we did buy a stolen painting and brought it into the country. Who knows how many crimes we might’ve unwittingly committed?” Janet worried. “For starters, we didn’t declare it with customs—”
“We did declare a painting for the value that we paid for it,” Dennis objected. “How were we supposed to know it was a stolen masterpiece worth millions? We don’t have X-ray vision.”
Janet sighed, wringing her hands. “I hope you’re right. I wish we’d never gone to that damn gallery in the first place and just went to the beach instead—”
“Janet, Dennis, please calm down,” Ham interjected. “Until this moment the possibility of you being under suspicion didn’t even cross my mind—”
“But you did say that the bureau has follow-up questions for us,” Janet said nervously.
“Not as suspects. As witnesses only,” Ham clarified. “Apologies if I wasn’t clear about that—I’m too old for all-nighters. My brain’s fried. If it hadn’t been for your visit to that obscure gallery in Antibes, the stolen painting would still be just that. Just before we headed over here, the bureau thanked me for your cooperation.”
“That’s a relief.” Janet smiled. “I guess a lack of sleep is playing tricks on my brain too.”
“We’re going to get all the answers soon.” Ham pointed at the opening door.
The conference room door parted and two men entered the room. One was older, about Ham’s age, and the other looked to be in his mid-thirties. The older man wore a gray suit with a white shirt and a navy tie. His gray hair was shorn closely to his head, bringing attention to the sharp gaze of his pale gray eyes. His younger colleague was dressed in a navy suit, white shirt, and a burgundy tie. He had dark blond hair and hazel eyes with an intelligent, thoughtful gaze. He was about five nine; the effortless, catlike fluidity of his movements made it clear that he was in great shape. Janet instantly recognized the younger man as Agent Norris whom they had met when Leonard was brought in for questioning.
“Ham Kirk—it’s good to see you, old friend.” The older man walked over to Ham, extending his hand for a handshake.
“Gus Edwards—it’s good to see you too, old friend.” Ham got up from his seat and the two men shook hands. “I didn’t know you were working art theft,” Ham added.
“I much preferred it in Organized Crime, but apparently they wanted younger blood over there. So I got transferred. At least I didn’t have to retire—don’t know what I’d do s
itting home all day.”
Ham chuckled. “I doubt the bureau would ever make the mistake of letting you do that, but if they ever do, please give me call—we’d be happy to have you at our agency.”
“I’ll keep that in mind. And these are your colleagues? I only came in this morning, so I didn’t get to meet them when Leonard was brought in.”
“Janet, Dennis, it’s my pleasure to introduce an old friend of mine and one of the sharpest minds in the FBI, Deputy Assistant Director Gus Edwards. These are my associates, Janet Maple and Dennis Walker.”
Director Edwards shook their hands. “Thank you all for coming here on such short notice. I realize you all had quite a night. I understand that you’ve already met Special Agent-in-Charge Frank Norris—he’s in charge of this investigation,” he added.
Agent Norris nodded. “Thank you for providing us with such a timely and valuable lead. You’ve made my job a lot easier.”
“Please, have a seat and make yourselves comfortable,” Director Edwards said. “Would anyone like coffee? We’re going to be here for a while.”
Janet and Dennis shook their heads.
“Thank you for the offer, Gus, but we’re fine,” Ham assured him. “We had our fill before we got here. I had a hunch this was going to be a long day.”
“Your hunch was spot on,” said Director Edwards. “We had a very interesting chat with Mr. Stevens. I don’t know how you did it, Ham, but you solved one of the biggest thefts of this year. Agent Norris will give you the specifics. Agent Norris—”
Agent Norris rearranged his notes on the table and cleared his throat. “Two months ago a rare Monet painting was stolen while on its route from the Metropolitan Museum of Art to Musee d’Orsay in Paris. The painting in question was a rare depiction of Venice by Monet, which had been in a private collection in the U.S. and recently donated anonymously to the Metropolitan Museum of Art. The painting was sent to Musee d’Orsay for a temporary exhibition, but never reached its destination. We were able to confirm that the crate containing the painting was switched during transport with an empty crate. I have been investigating this matter together with my colleagues in Interpol, but despite our joint efforts we did not have any leads until I questioned Leonard Stevens.” Agent Norris paused. “Imagine my surprise this morning when our experts confirmed that Monet’s Venice painting was hidden beneath the seascape that you bought on your honeymoon, and that Leonard Stevens so ineptly tried to steal from you. We have contacted the Metropolitan Museum of Art and let them know that the painting has been found.”