Artnapping

by Hazel Edwards

  Christopher whispered, ‘I’m going to sit with the guards. I want to ask them about art forgery.’ He slipped into the spare front seat next to the guards who had their reading lights on. They weren’t watching the film, so Christopher pulled out his sketch pad and offered. ‘Would you like me to sketch you?’

  ‘Okay son. Do him. He’s the handsome one,’ laughed the first guard. ‘I’m too ugly.’

  Christopher started sketching AND asking questions.

  ‘If someone copies somebody else’s picture, is that forgery?’

  ‘Yes and no.’ The first guard watched Christopher’s sketching.’ If a famous painter’s name is on the work and he didn’t paint it, that’s forgery.’

  ‘But it’s still a painting.’ Christopher exclaimed. ‘What if the buyer just likes the painting?’

  ‘A fake is a painting of the period but not painted by the person who is said to have done the work. Couriers who try to pass of the works for the forgers often tell the story about an uncle who has died and left them the painting in his will. But the picture might have been painted yesterday by an unknown art student,’ explained the first guard.

  ‘Tess said she had an artwork from her uncle.’ Christopher was excited.

  ‘Get-rich-quick dealers comb the overseas auctions to see what they pass off. Most forgeries were done by artists desperate to make money. Some of them are art students. Sometimes they are often better artists than the person whose work they forged.’ The guard tried to peer at the sketch of himself upside down.

  ‘Could you sit still, please?’ Christopher remembered Tess talking about her pavement chalk paintings. Had she copied some famous painters?

  ‘Who buys the forgeries?’ asked Christopher finishing off the sketch. The guard’s mouth looked so life- like, he was talking on the page.

  ‘Collectors. A painting signed with a forged famous name, might be worth $20,000 instead of $1,000 if it wasn’t signed.’ The second guard looked down at Christopher’s sketch pad. ‘Good drawer aren’t you? Don’t take up forging son.’

  They laughed loudly.

  ‘Doesn’t the real artist complain?’ asked Christopher.

  The guards laughed. ‘Usually the artist has been dead for years. That’s why the ‘experts’ can’t always check how many paintings he did.’

  Carefully Christopher signed his name on the bottom of his sketch.

  Then he ripped it off and gave it to the guard.

  ‘Thanks son. I owe you one.’

  The inflight movie had finished now. Passengers were settling down to sleep. Gloria hurried past the twins’ seat. ‘Talk to Mr Kei. Attract his attention.’

  ‘Why?’ whispered the twins.

  ‘Tell you later. Could you also check if there is one or two keyholes on the padlock holding the silver chain?’

  The overhead reading light hit the silver padlock, making it gleam.

  ‘Excuse me Mr Kei,’ Christopher sat next him. ‘I’ve been sketching some of the passengers. Would you like me to sketch you?’

  ‘No.’ Mr Kei still didn’t like wasting words.

  Amy thought quickly. They needed another excuse. ‘Would you like me to show you my phone card collection?’

  ‘No thank you.’ Mr Kei fiddled with his briefcase chain. Christopher leaned over to look more closely. ‘What a shiny chain.’ There were two keyholes on the padlock.

  ‘Like to look at my coin collection?’ Amy felt for her bum-bag.

  ‘Your coins would not interest me. I have my own collection of rare coins...’ he stopped. ‘My client has a collection of rare coins.’

  ‘You both collect coins?’ asked Christopher. ‘That’s a co-incidence.’

  ‘Er, yes.’

  Amy took a quick look down the aisle. William, Tess and Gloria were talking near the toilets. Tess was giving her silver container to Gloria! They MUST be on the same side! Amy unzipped her bum-bag and took out her best old Australian penny. ‘Have you got one of these?’ Mr Kei shook his head. ‘Look, it’s late. Why don’t you go and have a sleep.’

  ‘We’re not tired,’ Christopher tried to think of some way to keep the courier’s attention. What’s your client’s name?’

  Mr Kei answered, ‘... er Mr Ng.’

  Then Amy remembered something. She scrabbled inside her bum-bag and pulled out a piece of newspaper . Mr Ng’s ad. fell onto Mr Kei’s lap. He picked it up with his free hand. A card fell from his pocket onto the floor. ‘Damn! Have you read this?’ His face looked strained. ‘I suppose everybody on the flight has read it! Newspapers turn up in the wrong places! Or at the wrong time!’

  ‘ Is it the same Mr Ng?’ asked Amy. Quietly she picked up the card from the floor, glanced at the name and slipped it in her pocket.

  Mr Kei didn’t notice nor did he answer her question because at that moment, William arrived to collect the twins.

  ‘Thank you Amy and William. It’s time to go back to your seats now.’

  As William ushered them back, the twins wondered what they were being thanked for. Was it the information about the number of keyholes? Was it just so that Mr Kei would not see Tess, William and Gloria together? Or was it the silver container Tess was handing over to Gloria? If they were planning to catch Mr Wang, who was he? Amy felt it was safe to share a clue with William.

  ‘William, does Gloria know that the Mr Ng the collector in the newspaper clipping is also the Mr Ng that Mr Kei is working for?’

  ‘You’ve found that out? Gloria said her sleuths were good. She wasn’t kidding!’ William’s perfect white teeth gleamed in the half-light.

  ‘Why did Tess give the container to Gloria?’ asked Christopher.’ By the way, there were two keyholes.’

  ‘Gloria will explain, SOON.’ William left.

  Gloria sat beside the twins. ‘I should share a few facts with you. We needed to know how many keys are necessary to open that briefcase.’

  They were surrounded by sleeping passengers. Occasionally one snored.

  ‘Where does Mr Ng come into this?’ Amy, thought about rare coins.

  ‘Tess was working for him, as a courier’ said Gloria. ‘She’s carrying a Ming vase to Tokyo. Carrying such a valuable item in a backpacker’s bag, puts likely thieves off the track.’

  Like the Gold Buddha story, thought Christopher.

  ‘Is she a ‘goodie’ or a ‘baddie’ courier?’ asked Amy.

  Gloria laughed. ‘Goodie, now she’s working for us. That Ming vase belonged originally to Mr Ng’s family. It was one of a pair. His family was very poor. His grandfather told him one vase had been smashed by soldiers. The other had been sold to the west. When Mr Ng made his millions, he tried to track down his family’s Ming vase. He paid Samuel to look for him. A mock-up vase was photographed and given to Samuel who used it to find and buy the original vase.’

  ‘Was that the reprint which got mixed up with Red’s photos?’ said Amy.

  Gloria nodded. ‘Meanwhile, Mr Ng learnt that the second Ming vase was in the Amsterdam gallery. Brut stole the vase from Amsterdam. His face was caught on the security video. That’s why INTERPOL were looking for him.’

  ‘Did he work for Mr Ng?’ asked Christopher.

  ‘As Mr Yap, he worked for Mr Wang, the drug dealer.’ said Gloria. ‘We know that much.’

  ‘Could Mr Wang and Mr Ng be the same person? suggested Christopher, joining up his doodles.

  ‘And he’s on this flight, under another name,’ Gloria wasn’t listening.

  ‘Whose name?’ asked Amy.

  ‘We’ll find out before the flight touches down in Tokyo. Luckily he can’t escape from the plane until then.’ said Gloria.

  ‘Mr Ng is also a client of Mr Kei,’ added Amy. ‘There must be a link.’ She pulled out the business card which had fallen from Mr Kei’s pocket. The name on the card was not KEI . Had th
e card been given to him by someone else? Or was it his? Why was Mr Kei carrying a business card which said

  MR WANG? And why was Gloria so interested in the silver chained briefcase? As passengers slept around them, the twins tried to work out the mystery. At last, Christopher had an idea. He shared it with his sister.

  ‘Yes,’ agreed Amy.

  Chapter 13

  Tokyo Airport

  Mr Kei looked carefully around Tokyo airport. The briefcase was gripped tightly. Several times, he touched the padlock to check. The charms tinkled on his silver watchband. He looked nervous. He didn’t notice Gloria nor the Rembrandt guard watching him from behind the barrier. The twins were alongside Tess.

  Near the WELCOME TO TOKYO sign, a neat man was holding a sign in front of his chest. The sign said ‘Meeting Mr Kei.’ He was also holding a briefcase.

  ‘I am Mr Kei.’ ‘Do you have some proof, please sir?’ asked the man.

  Mr Kei showed his passport. ‘Are you from the Tokyo Gallery?’ he asked the man.’ Show me some I.D. please?’

  The man showed him a glossy photo-card with TOKYO GALLERY EMPLOYEE written in English and Japanese.

  ‘Yes,’ said Mr Kei. ‘Now, do you have your key to open the padlock?’

  ‘Use your first, please sir.’

  Mr Kei took a silver key which was one of the charms on his watch band.

  He unlocked the first keyhole. Mr Kei said, ‘Inside is the contract for the gallery. It contains Mr Ng’s requirements for putting on a show of artwork from his private collection. This includes a pair of Ming vases and other works. The Ming vase is arriving separately with another courier.’

  ‘Agreed,’ The gallery employee signed the form. He used a silver key to unlock the second keyhole in the dual lock. The briefcase was open now.

  ‘These must go into YOUR briefcase now,’ said Mr Kei handing over the documents. ‘I will keep this empty briefcase to use in my other business.’

  ‘No sir,’ said a firm voice. ‘We are from INTERPOL. We’ll take the briefcase which is NOT empty.’

  Startled, Mr Kei swung around. For a moment, he looked as though he might run. The Rembrandt guard was ready to chase him. But there was no need. The uniformed man from INTERPOL took Kei’s arm. Gloria was just behind him and she took the briefcase.

  ‘We know there are drug contracts inside here too. There is also a rolled canvas of a famous Smith paintings and maybe a rare coin to be sold illegally in Tokyo. It was falsely advertised as stolen, for insurance purposes.’

  Gloria unrolled the Smith canvas which had been inside the briefcase.

  ‘That’s one of mine.’ said Tess in astonishment. ‘I painted it years ago as an art student. But it’s got Smith’s name signed on it. I didn’t paint that!’

  ‘What?’ Mr Kei looked shocked. ‘It’s a fake! Samuel sold it to me as a genuine Smith!’

  ‘This briefcase needed two keys to open it. That’s why it was waved through Customs. And you had only one key. You needed the other key from the Tokyo Gallery. They insisted on the dual security.’ Sharply Mr Kei looked up. ‘How did you work that out?’

  ‘You ARE Mr Ng, the collector aren’t you? And the Ming vases did belong to your ancestors. You were trying to get the pair back together, illegally.’ Christopher the sleuth was on the job. ‘Why do you say that?’ Mr Kei was stunned. ‘You had your own key to the padlock. A courier wouldn’t have that! And the gallery is displaying artwork belonging to Mr Ng.’ said Christopher.’We saw the posters.’

  ‘Nobody would suspect Mr Ng of being his own courier. Especially as most people do not know his face.’ added the INTERPOL man. ‘Tokyo Gallery probably didn’t know that.’ ‘They didn’t.’ Mr Kei was shocked. He thought he’d escaped INTERPOL in Sydney. ‘I made a mistake there. I was in a hurry. I called myself Kei to get out of Australia on a fake passport. Okay, if I’m Mr Ng, where is Mr Wang? INTERPOL really want the drug dealer.’ Mr Kei blustered.

  Amy interrupted ‘I think that might be your other name?’

  ‘Can you prove it?’

  Christopher pulled out the Ming vase photo and the envelope he’d borrowed from Red. The R.P.G group were still getting their props through Customs.

  ‘Yes,’ said Amy. ‘The address on the FAST FOTOS for Mr Wang and the address on the newspaper clipping for Mr Ng was the same. I think you are both people.’

  ‘Collecting art is my passion.Last year I bought the priceless Ming vase as as a birthday present to myself,’ said Mr Kei/Ng/WANG as he was led away by INTERPOL.’I wanted to show off my beautiful collection in Tokyo.’

  ‘His next birthdays will now be spent in prison.’ Gloria was serious. ‘How can a collector who buys and loves beautiful art, sell drugs which destroy lives?’.

  ‘Three names,’ said William thoughtfully. ‘I was right.’

  ‘Mr Ng, the collector was my client,’ said Tess. ‘At least I thought so. I thought I was carrying the Ming vase to Tokyo. It was a proper courier’s job. My fare was paid. It’s just that I hid the vase amongst my clothes in the backpack.’

  A little later, Gloria explained that Mr Ng thought he had the only Ming vase from his ancestors’ grave. Then he heard that another was in an Amsterdam museum. So he arranged to get it.’

  ‘Illegally?’ asked the twins.

  ‘No. He asked Samuel the dealer to get it for him. When he found it was impossible to buy the Ming vase legally, he arranged to have it stolen.’

  ‘Was Brut the thief he paid?’ asked Amy.

  Gloria looked surprised. ‘Yes. His face was on the web- cam.’

  It turned out that Gloria had had a tip- off from INTERPOL about stolen artworks and that the thief might be travelling on this flight. Only they weren’t sure which artworks. Ng was smuggling art he’d bought and was pretending had been stolen so he could claim insurance.

  ‘Was William working for you, Gloria?’ asked Amy. ‘Looked too good to be true as a flight attendant.’

  ‘William was working undercover for INTERPOL and for me,’ smiled Gloria.‘Tess joined a little later.’

  As an art student, Tess sold the paintings as her own work. Fakers passed them off as the work of Smith the famous. Samuel sold them to Ng the collector as genuine Smiths. Mr Ng was conned.

  ‘Tess, did your uncle really leave you an artefact?’ Christopher wasn’t sure whether that was part of Tess’s cover.

  ‘Yes, my uncle did die recently. But the painting he left me was one I’d done for him. It was one of mine!’ laughed Tess. ‘Not worth millions.’

  Amy remembered that Tess had tossed a coin before she told them the Golden Buddha story. ‘Was that a rare coin?

  Tess just winked.

  ‘Couldn’t have been THE rare one,’ decided Christopher. ‘That was in the Mr Kei’s chained briefcase.’

  ‘In Sydney, who were you talking to with this phone card?’ Amy held up the card Tess had given to her for her collection.

  ‘INTERPOL.’ said Tess.

  ‘Why did you chase Brut when he took Red’s bag?’ asked Christopher.

  ‘I thought he was a thief, after the sword,’ admitted Tess. ‘INTERPOL had asked me to watch for anything suspicious about artwork. So I was just trying to do a good job.’

  Just then, Red walked past with his role-playing-gamers. He waved the sword. ‘See you. We got through security.’

  ‘Good luck with the game.’ called the twins. ‘Hope you sell lots.’

  Below them, Tess watched as the Rembrandt was unloaded. ‘I remember copying that painting a few years ago. A dealer bought it for $300. Are you sure that’s not a copy?’

  Both guards looked worried. ‘What? It’s meant to be priceless.’

  ‘It is,’ said Samuel as Gloria escorted him away. ‘Nothing to do with me.’

  ‘Just a fake joke,’ laughed Tess

 
Samuel called over his shoulder,’ But my offer for your lifesaver card was genuine, Amy. Not less than a thousand. American dollars or yen.’

  ‘They’re not the same,’ said Amy. He was trying to trick her again.

  ‘He’ll need more than a lifesaver card,’ said Gloria. ‘With all these charges about faking masterpieces, setting up fake robberies for insurance and sellingfake collectors’ items, Samuel’s in big trouble. No more First Class travel for years, except in a prison van. And Mr Wang won’t be travelling far either.’

  Christpher picked up his sketch pad which had fallen on the ground. The pages opened to his insect sketches of the passengers. Amy pointed,’ You were right. You drew Mr Kei as a chameleon, the one who changes to blend with his surroundings.’

  Chapter 14

  Finale

  A few weeks later, the twins arrived home from Tokyo. They’d had a great time. Aunty Viv was at the airport to meet them. They hugged her.

  ‘We’ve got you a present Aunty Viv.’

  Christopher was hesitant. Maybe it wasn’t a good idea.The twins had thought a lot about this present. Would Aunty Viv use it?

  ‘Thank you.’ Aunty Viv gave them a hug. She unwrapped the gift paper on the envelope shape. ‘A gift voucher? Great.’

  Then she looked more closely at the wording. ‘Fear of Flying Lessons. A course of ten lessons... to be used before the end of this year. ‘

  ‘The Women Pilots’ Group run the course,’ said Amy quickly. ‘And they help you.’

  Aunty Viv said, ‘There’s no way my feet are leaving the ground. The plane goes so high, there’s nothing to hold it up and I’m sure it’ll crash.’

  Amy knew that Aunty Viv wouldn’t want to go up. So she’d thought of ways to persuade her.

  ‘The first lesson, you just go out to the airport and watch planes landing and taking off.’

  ‘I do that all the time, with you.’ Aunty Viv eyes were sparkly or perhaps they were just scared.

  ‘They give you a relaxation tape . Look, Aunty Viv, Australia’s a flat country. There aren’t many mountains to crash into. No snow blizzards, like North America. And the population is small, so the air isn’t as crowded with flying passengers.’ Aunty Viv didn’t look convinced.