by Elle, Leen
* * *
The Art Department was composed of three buildings, all squashed together. While the first two held only lecture halls, it was the third hall where the real creation of art took place. The building which Sophie was headed to now was like a second home. As soon as she'd walked through the massive oak doors, she felt her heart ease.
The familiar hallway took her back to when she'd been a freshman, exploring the campus for the first time.
She'd initially felt intimidated by the regal exterior of the building, though the moment she'd entered, she'd become immersed in the culture which thrived inside.
All along the walls were portraits made by former students, and statues greeted guests from the lavish main hall. The ceiling up above was painted with dozens of angels, which peered down mischievously at Sophie as she walked through the entrance.
Hidden within the three floors of the building were various classrooms where students could choose to learn one of a variety of art forms. On the main floor were most of the sculpting classes, while the second floor was dedicated to both pottery and sketching classes. The basement was reserved for the photography classes, where students would practice using the campus's only dark room to develop their photographs.
Sophie found the spiraling staircase situated in the middle of the main hall, and climbed three flights of stairs, heading towards the top floor. The highest level of the building wasn't separated into classrooms. The entire floor was an open room in which aspiring painters were allowed to paint whatever they pleased. Most students used it to work on assignments given by their professors, though anyone could use the room as long as they were given a pass, which was similar to a library card.
Even before she reached the top floor, she could smell the strong scent of wet paint wafting down the staircase. Sophie smiled, brushing her hair out of her eyes. The chaos that greeted her once she entered the room was heartwarming. Just like she'd seen it three years before, the top level was cluttered with half-finished canvases, open paint tubes, scattered brushes, and the floor was speckled with drops of paint. The windows of each side of the large studio were open, letting a soft breeze stir around the warm room.
Sophie browsed through the paintings, examining the ongoing works of her peers. There was no organization to the paintings, and Sophie was pleased to see the odd collection of works. To her right were Expressionistic paintings, while to her left were what she expected to be attempts at Realism. Abstract paintings were spread across the room, some leaving Sophie impressed, and others leaving her only confused.
To Sophie, this place was where true art was created. She didn't look down on the other forms of art that students practiced, but this was just where she fit in. Even if she no longer wanted to be an art major, painting would always be her passion.
It took her almost twenty minutes to examine the room fully. As she reached the other end, she paused to glance back across the studio. She tried to imagine coming here every day to paint, but the thought only made her heart ache more. She envied the students that could come and go as they pleased.
She sat down near the window, on top of a table which was covered with art supplies. She brushed some of them out of the way, so that she wouldn't have to worry about getting wet paint on her clothes. Sophie turned her focus out of the window, down at the courtyard below. From this angle she could see the fountain, and all of the students sprinkled around it. No one in their right mind was cooped up inside on a day like today, and the studio was completely empty. Had it been any other day of the year, the room would have had at least four or five students occupying it.
She'd become so lost in thought, she barely registered the sound of something dropping to the floor on the other side of the studio. For a moment, Sophie wondered if she'd heard anything at all, when the sound of footsteps started coming her way. From her perch, Sophie could only see half of the room, as some of the larger canvases blocked most of her view. Whoever was heading in her direction had no idea that she was there. While it shouldn't have bothered her, Sophie felt like she'd been caught somewhere she wasn't supposed to be.
When the footsteps drew closer, the stranger stepped around one of the clusters of paintings so that they were in full view of Sophie. She caught her breath as she examined the man. He was wearing a black baseball cap, and had a large book bag strapped around his shoulders. He was moving quickly, though he was obviously trying to be quiet. He shifted his position to look out of the window, and Sophie gasped.
She'd seen this person less than an hour before.
"Jack?" She asked softly, wondering if she was going to scare him.
He didn't jump at the sound of her voice, but he turned towards her with wide eyes. His expression was stoic, but his eyes flickered with interest. He froze in place, deciding not to reply just yet.
"It is you." Sophie said, trying to sound lighthearted. She still felt like their last meeting was awkward, but she didn't want to be rude. She was mostly curious at what he was doing up here. Hadn't he said he was going to meet someone?
"We shouldn't have met again." Jack whispered, turning his eyes away. "I'm sorry, Sophie."
Sophie's eyes narrowed in confusion. "Sorry about what?" She tried to think of a reason why he would call her by her nickname, but she couldn't think of one.
"I tried to avoid this. I really did." He reached up and rubbed his temples, like he had a headache.
"What are you talking about?" Sophie asked, standing up.
When he looked back at her, his expression had changed back to the polite smile she'd seen earlier.
"It seems we were destined to meet again." He said in a bright voice, which was a huge deviation from the tone he'd been using before.
Sophie crossed her arms defensively. "Did you follow me up here?"
"Would I follow someone like you?" He countered. "I could ask the same question." He shrugged, turning to look out the window. "If I jumped from here, what do you think would happen?"
Sophie's eyes widened, as she stared down at the courtyard. "Well, seeing as though we are on the third floor, my best guess is that you might break a leg…or both legs." She wondered if he was suicidal.
Jack glanced up at her with sparkling blue eyes. "Sounds like a challenge." He mused.
Sophie took another step forward just as the alarm to the building went off. She jumped as the siren-like beeping filled the air. She thought it might've been the fire alarm, but as she stared at Jack, another thought struck her.
"What's in your backpack?" She asked coldly. She'd known from the beginning that there was something off about him, but the way he'd obviously not wanted to be seen tipped her off to a new suspicion. Hidden in one of the rooms in the basement of this building was the Salvador Dali painting that Professor Bowman had wanted to show her earlier. If the alarms were going off now, that meant something must've gone wrong.
"You're very clever." Jack commented, watching her with proud eyes. "Just like your parents."
Sophie's heart dropped. She felt like he'd just slapped her. "You stole the Dali painting?" She tried to ignore his comment about her parents. If he really was a thief, it was up to her to stop him.
"Do you know the story of this particular painting? It's one of my favorites." He paused, glancing back towards the staircase, as if judging how much time he had left. "In 2006 four paintings were stolen from the Museu da Chácara do Céu in Rio de Janeiro, Brazil. The stolen paintings were works by Salvador Dali, Pablo Picasso, Henri Matisse, and Claude Monet. By using a carnival parade that was conveniently passing the museum, the thieves were able to vanish into the crowd."
"What's your point?" Sophie took a careful step towards him, wondering if she should try and forcefully get the painting back.
"Art thieves are amazing, aren't they? It's a shame that this painting was recovered. It would've been better if it had stayed stolen." He turned towards the half-open window, and pushed it all the way open.
"You'll kill yourself!" Sophie w
arned. "That jump is impossible!"
Jack grinned, shaking off her concern. He paused for a moment, and dug out a card from his pocket. He laid it on the floor, and slid it towards her.
"If you want to learn more about your parents, look me up." He pushed himself onto the windowsill, and his legs dangled outside.
Sophie picked up the card, and noticed how it had the name Robert Locksley printed on the top. Beneath it was an address and a phone number.
"Some thief you are. I could give this to the police, and you'd be finished." Sophie wondered if he was actually clever, or really, really stupid.
"We both know you won't do that, Sophie." His eyes locked with hers. "If you turn me in, you'll never understand anything about who you really are."
Sophie felt like he was challenging her. "Oh, and you know who I am?"
"You'll have to wait and see." He winked, and his lips curled into a smile. "See you soon, Sophia Parker." He laughed as he pushed off from the windowsill.
Sophie stopped breathing, not believing that he'd actually done it. She rushed towards the window, shoving her head out so that she could see below. Her eyes frantically searched the ground, but she couldn't see any traces of him anywhere.
Just when she thought she was going to die of anxiety, a rough hand jerked her back.
"Identify yourself!" A security guard shouted at her sternly.
Sophie watched the guard with terrified eyes. He had a gun pointed at her, and he looked like he wouldn't think twice about firing it. "S..Sophia Parker." She blustered.
"What are you doing up here?" He released her, not looking convinced.
"I'm…waiting for Professor Brown. I'm a student here." She held up her hands so that he could see she wasn't hiding anything.
The guard examined her suspiciously, glancing out of the window to try and figure out what she'd been looking at.
"Did you see anyone suspicious come through here?" He was still glaring at her.
Sophie paused, wondering if she should turn the stranger in. She wasn't even sure what his real name was, and he was obviously dangerous. However, everything he'd said made her second guess herself. Her curiosity was overflowing, and his comments paired with her grandmother's last note were enough to overcome her better judgment.
"No, I was by myself." She answered, glancing down at the card she'd quickly shoved into her pocket before the guard had noticed.
The guard stared at her for a long moment before spinning around and charging back out of the studio.
Sophie sighed heavily, feeling relieved that he'd believed her half-hearted lie.
She turned her attention back out of the window. No matter how long she tried, she couldn't figure out how he'd done it.
Campus security was already closing off the area, though their attempts were failing. Outside a long crowd of people were marching across the street, waving banners, and posters in the air. It had slipped Sophie's mind that today was the college's annual spring parade, where students joined together to march as chaotically and loudly as they could through the campus. It was the perfect opportunity for them to wildly break free from their busy schedules before exams began, and normally the students' behavior went without punishment. However, today campus security was in no mood for the parade, and were hastily trying to disperse the crowd.
Sophie only smiled as she watched the scene unravel below.
"Parade." She whispered, remembering the story the stranger had told her only a few minutes before. "Of course."
She slipped the card he'd given her out of her pocket, and examined it again. The handwriting was sloppy, as if he'd done it in a hurry. She absentmindedly flipped it over, and to her surprise, there was something written on the back as well.
Until we meet again.
Instead of feeling daunted by the message, Sophie felt exhilarated by it. Whoever this stranger was, he brought with him a world that was unlike anything she had ever experienced. She hadn't planned for him to come, and in no way did he fit into her packed schedule. However, she found that she enjoyed his unexpected presence, and looked forward to the day they would meet again. After all, this wasn't the end.
This was just the beginning.
CHAPTER TWO
In the beginning, I was exhilarated. I was so caught up in his mystery, I barely noticed when he swept me back into the past.
As she stood in front of the door to the thief's house, Sophie wondered if she'd lost her mind.
If she'd been sane, she would've known not to take him up on his offer. She should've turned him in to the authorities when she had the chance, and she should've never, ever, decided to come visit him at the address he'd given her.
After all, her common sense was screaming that this was a bad idea. The thing was, that just made it all the more exciting. This man, who had introduced himself as Jack, but had written the name Robert on his calling card, was everything Sophie wanted him to be. He was different, unexpected, and best of all, he knew about her parents. At least, he said he did. For all she knew he could've been bluffing, but the temptation to ask more had eaten at her until she'd gotten into the cab to come here.
Here being the upper-middle class neighborhood that was located two hours from her college. While Sophie hadn't expected to be coming to his hideout, her expectations had been a bit higher than the seemingly average home she was staring at. It was larger than any house she could afford, though it was still a long shot from the house she'd expected an art thief would live in.
In fact, his house was smaller than almost all of the other houses in the neighborhood. It had the same Victorian style as the others, but it was at least half the size. The house set on the corner of a busy street, though the various trees in the front yard provided sufficient privacy. A tire swing hung from one of the trees nearby, and Sophie noticed three bicycles leaning up against the front porch.
No matter how long she examined the property, nothing seemed to shout "thief". It might've hinted at a wealthy profession like a lawyer, or a doctor, but there was nothing suspicious about it. If anything, it was more average than the other bold houses she'd seen on her way through the neighborhood.
There was no way around the truth. This was not the kind of lair she'd been expecting.
Even though she was twenty-one years old, Sophie had a child-like curiosity towards the stranger. After all, he'd swept into her life and rekindled an interest she'd thought she'd lost since her grandparents had died. For once, her future was the last thing on her mind.
How did he know her? What had happened after he'd jumped out of the window? Had he escaped? Did he know her parents? Was he the person her grandmother had been talking about? Was he really a trained thief?
She'd gotten so carried away with who he might be, she'd daydreamed throughout a weeks worth of classes. Her initial curiosity had been overflowing, but it was only when she'd spoken to Professor Brown that she'd decided to come here.
Apparently, there had been no sign of forced entry when the painting had been stolen, which made the crime seem like an inside job. The thief had disabled the security system on one of the other vaults hidden beneath the building. When Professor Brown had gotten the call that something was wrong, he'd been asked to come help fix the system. However, while he was working just across the hall from where the Dali painting was kept, he hadn't even noticed that it'd gone missing. Five security guards, and numerous security cameras were not enough to capture the thief. No one had seen, heard, or known that they were being robbed until Professor Brown had decided to check on the painting after fixing the security system.
Now that the officials had spent a week examining all of the evidence, they concluded that the thief had tampered with the system so that security would be inclined to fix it. When they were rebooting the system, the thief had snuck in and left without anyone's knowledge. Even the security guards that had been positioned outside of the paintings' fault had not seen him.
Just like Sophie had expected, the para
de outside had allowed the thief to slip away without any trouble. However, she was still unsure of how he'd made the jump from the third story. She was willing to believe that he'd survived, as all the evidence was enough to prove that he was skilled…or just really, really lucky.
While she felt guilty for keeping quiet, Sophie also knew that she couldn't force herself to tell. Even though she knew the thief was obviously a criminal, she felt like she didn't want him to get caught. At least, not before she figured him out.
She'd been hesitating at his front door for a good ten minutes. Rather than being scared of what she'd find inside, Sophie felt like she didn't want to be disappointed. She wanted him to be the man in her imagination, but she knew it was highly unlikely that he could live up to her expectations. Her better judgment told her that he'd probably been lying about her parents…but then again, how had he known she'd never gotten to meet them? When they'd passed away she'd been only three years old, and she had no memories of them whatsoever. Her grandparents hadn't even let her see a picture of them, saying that it was better for her to focus on the future instead of feeling bitter about her past.