The Darkest Days (The Adventures of Xavier & Vic Book 6)

by Liza O'Connor

  The younger man, Tom, lifted the painting so she could see it from the backside, before a bright light. “Yes, it does look cheerier from behind. Why isn’t the back just as grimy as the front?”

  “Because the back is always papered so dust will not settle into the canvas.”

  James, the dark haired fellow, showed her a painting that had its back protection on, safely securing it from dust.

  “I’m surprised a thief would bother with breaking into the secure room when such fabulous paintings gather here waiting to be restored.”

  Tom chuckled. “I was a bit concerned, but Dr. Powers declared it a slight of the hand. No thief would ever think to look for priceless paintings in the back workrooms.”

  Not unless they knew about this practice from someone who worked here. “So the paintings in the highly guarded room are just decoys?”

  “No. They are paintings to be shipped to another museum. We constantly change our art. Some are sold so we can buy something else. Others are loaned while we borrow another museum’s pieces for a special exhibit. It takes a great deal of negotiating, which Dr. Powers handles himself. The items he is negotiating to trade or sell are placed in the secure room so he can act quickly once the deal is done.”

  James spoke up. “Some of the deals are quite complex. For example, he is presently negotiating a sale of the Rembrandt and several others so he can buy some Chinese jade carvings and paintings. However, the person who has the Chinese works does not want the Rembrandt, they want a Da Vinci from another museum. The director of that museum wants a Monet from the museum requesting the Rembrandt.”

  “Will the missing Renoir break this trade?” Vic asked.

  “Fortunately, no. It wasn’t part of the deal. To be honest, I’m not sure why it was in there at all.”

  Tom nodded in agreement. “It is odd. We are renowned for our fine collection of sketches. We normally buy sketches, not trade or sell them.”

  “Perhaps it was a lesser sketch?”

  “No. It’s a highly prized one, and removing it from the exhibit resulted in the curator in charge of the sketches and engravings resigning yesterday.”

  “And precisely when was the engraving found missing?” Vic asked.

  James chuckled. “I see what you’re thinking, but Edward didn’t quit until after the sketch went missing. He said it was the last straw and he was going to work for a museum who wasn’t run by an idiot.”

  Tom looked around before he added, “He must have already secured a job because Dr. Powers would never give him a recommendation after his outburst.”

  Vic believed that. “Powers didn’t strike me as a forgiving man.”

  “That’s putting it mildly,” James muttered.

  “So where did Edward go?”

  Both men shrugged.

  “What was his last name?”

  Tom shook his head. “I don’t want to get him in trouble. I might need a job from him someday.”

  “I just wanted to get his opinion of Powers,” she whispered.

  “Oh…because Dr. Powers put the Renoir in the secured room.” James’ eyes rounded. “You can’t tell anyone we told you that.”

  “Then tell me Edward’s last name, and he can tell me.”

  “Hendrickson. He may have gone to the Fitzwilliam Museum in Cambridge. He frequently compared us to the Fitz these last few months.”

  Tom nodded.

  The door burst open and an angry Powers glared at them. “Tom, you’re next,” he snapped and stormed back out with Tom scampering to follow.

  Once the door slammed shut, James grimaced and whispered. “I don’t think Powers expected to be interviewed.”

  “Oh, we interview everyone. So how long has the fellow been the curator?”

  He sighed heavily and after a long pause, he said, “Six months, two weeks and three days.” He then glanced again at the door. “I really need to get back to my work, how much longer to you think Mr. Holmes will take.”

  Vic chuckled and patted his back. “Let me try to move matters along.”

  She located the interrogation room, entered and checked Xavier’s notes, then smiled at Tom. “That’ll do. Will you send in James? I know you two have work to do.”

  Tom was out the door a second later.

  Xavier glared at her. “May I presume your unofficial interview has proved more useful than my official ones?”

  “Possibly, we’ll need to return to the art room to be certain.”

  “We?”

  “Actually, you’ll need to go in and recheck all the paintings for one with the seal broken on the paper backing.”

  He breathed out softly and smiled at her. “Brilliant.”

  “We don’t know if it’s true yet.”

  Just then James rushed in and sat down.

  Vic smiled. “Full name please?”

  Once he gave his name, spelling the last name, Vic sent him off to work. He gripped her hand. “Thank you so much!” And he was gone.

  “Ready to go check the paper backings?” she asked.

  Xavier smiled as he stood. “Ben isn’t the only one who deserves a raise today.”

  She grinned. “It turns out I’m independently wealthy, so you’ll have to come up with some other sort of reward.”

  He chuckled and placed his hand on her neck “I have a few possibilities in mind, depending upon our further inspection of the backings.”

  Chapter 23

  Tubs stood in the back hall of the British Museum, staring at a hole in the ceiling. Xavier pointed at Tubs and said to Vic, “Stay.”

  Vic hated to be ordered about like an unruly pup, but she didn’t want to waste time fighting with him. She wanted to know if she had solved half the mystery.

  She approached Tubs and smiled. “Found a way in, I see.”

  Tubs shook his head. “This only gives access to the ventilation system beneath the second story. I sent Barns up so he wouldn’t interrupt your interviews.”

  Vic chuckled. “Not to mention giving him the learning experience of coming face to face with a giant spider.”

  A scream echoed from the metal shaft above.

  Tubs chuckled. “That’s fifteen screams so far. Are we about to wrap this up? If so, I’ll call him back.”

  “Let’s wait until Xavier comes out. If he smiles at me, then call him back.”

  Xavier not only smiled but also gave her a wink. Tubs stood on a stool so his head disappeared into the ceiling space. “Barns come on back.”

  “Why?” an irritated voice demanded. “I haven’t found anything yet.”

  “Let’s go,” Vic called to Tubs. “He has his own transportation.”

  Tubs stepped down from the stool and followed her.

  “Where’s Barns?” Xavier asked.

  “He wants to investigate the ventilation system further.”

  “Did you tell him it was a waste of time?”

  “No, because I don’t wish to yell that for all to hear, especially given the identity of the thief remains unknown,” Vic replied in her softest voice of annoyance.

  “Point well-taken. Do we know when they are moving the Rembrandt?”

  Vic grimaced. “Sorry, no.” She noticed an annoyed curator headed their way. “But since you interviewed him, this is your miss, not mine.”

  “Well? Are you ready to sign off that the Renoir was taken through a ceiling tile?” Dr. Powers demanded.

  Xavier’s hawk eyes scrutinized the man until the curator lost a good deal of attitude. “Not yet, but I am confident we shall determine with certainty how it left the museum. When do you plan to remove the other paintings so we can assess the room without being searched?”

  “Why is that necessary?”

  “Answer my question first.”

  “The room is never empty. However, once I exchanged the key items in the room, then I suppose I can find someplace to hold the others.”

  “And when do you plan to exchange the Rembrandt?” Xavier asked.

&nbs
p; “Tomorrow.”

  “Is it a one for one exchange, or a more complex arrangement?” Vic asked, knowing the answer, but didn’t want him to know how chatty his employees had been.

  “The latter.”

  “May we have the details?”

  “Why?”

  Vic’s brain rushed to concoct a believable reason. “Because it is possible the theft of the Renoir sketch was merely a distraction and a more significant theft will occur during the multiple exchanges of the more valuable paintings.”

  “Dear Lord, that would be a disaster,” he whispered. “You cannot allow that to happen.”

  “We are willing to travel with the artwork to ensure it does not,” Vic offered.

  The man breathed out in relief. “Thank you. Do you think you will ever find who took the Renoir?”

  Vic nodded. “If it was a ruse to distract from their real plan, then when we catch them in a bigger attempt of theft, we will also recover the Renoir.”

  “Then come tomorrow morning at five. The fourgon carriage will be loaded by five-thirty.”

  “Could you provide us with details of the exchange now so we can assure the safety of the painting?”

  “Yes, of course,” Dr. Powers said and hurried away.

  Xavier frowned. “I expect a full report once we are in the carriage.”

  Vic smiled and nodded.

  The moment Dr. Powers returned with the itinerary, Xavier, Vic, and Tubs headed out. As Xavier was about to enter the carriage, he paused. “Did you happen to send Barns home?” he asked Tubs.

  “No, Barns is still in the ceiling, inspecting the ventilation system,” Vic replied and grinned, despite her best efforts to keep a straight face.

  “And why are we leaving him?”

  “Because Tubs told him to come out and he refused.”

  Xavier climbed into the carriage. “Carry on, Casey.”

  The carriage didn’t move.

  Vic leaned out the window and called out an address and the carriage moved forward. She leaned back and smiled. “My driver.”

  “And where is he taking us? It had better not be the cat case.”

  “No, it’s Lady Haughton and her troublesome ghost.”

  He yawned and closed his eyes. “Perhaps you should tell me what else you discovered about the misplaced Renoir.”

  Vic filled him in with all her newly acquired facts.

  When she finished he shook his head.

  “I’m not saying it is the assistant curator who’s our thief. I’m just saying it’s possible…but less so now that we know the Rembrandt doesn’t go to the museum he presently works for.” She huffed. “That would have been too tidy, I suppose.”

  “I am not finding fault with you, Vic. I am simply amazed that you determined the location of the Renoir with no more than discovering the backs of paintings are protected.”

  “You knew that?”

  He nodded. “Which proves even old dogs can still learn new tricks. I had not conceived a thief would hide the painting in the backing of another…given they must wait to acquire the painting.”

  Tubs scratched his bald head. “So you found the Renoir, but left it where you found it.” His tone and wrinkled brow left no doubt he thought it a bad idea. “Any reason you didn’t reveal its location today?”

  “We still don’t know the thief and that’s what we were hired to discover. Technically, recovering the painting wasn’t our job,” Vic said.

  Xavier frowned. “Are you certain?”

  “Ben took very good notes.”

  “That is odd.”

  Vic nodded. “There are many disturbing facts in this case. For example, why did Dr. Powers have the Renoir placed in the room at all? The workers were most confused since it is a valuable piece and the British Museum claims the finest selection of Renoir sketches in the world.”

  Xavier rubbed his chin in thought.

  “And then there is the assistant curator. The workers said he was outraged to have the piece removed from the displays, but he only quit after the piece went missing…and yes, he had access to the room.”

  “Well, I see why he was your first suspect. Well done on your friendly interrogation techniques.”

  “Maybe. Or maybe Tom and James gave up Hendrickson too easily, feeding me the facts I’d need to know to suspect him.”

  “Which is why you wished to leave the Renoir in the Rembrandt, so the real thief will reveal himself. Wouldn’t it be better to switch out the real sketch for a fake?” Tubs asked.

  Xavier sighed. “I might know of a fake Renoir I could acquire on such short notice, but it still wouldn’t work. If we try to leave with the real one, the guard will find it in his search.”

  “We could go early tomorrow, say two or three in the morning,” Tubs suggested.

  Vic smiled. “Do you know how to break in the British Museum?”

  “Don’t need to. I’ve a key to the back door,” Tubs confessed.

  “You lifted a key?” she asked in shock, certain Xavier would begin yelling any moment now.

  “Didn’t have to. Someone left it in the lock on the outside of the back door.”

  “Why would they not hide it beneath a rock? Or send it in a book to the one expected to break in. Leaving it in the lock…is incredibly stupid.”

  Tubs nodded.

  “So foolish, that if caught, they might explain it off as a stupid mistake. Is the key numbered?”

  Tubs handed her the key.

  Vic smiled at the number ‘5’ on the head. “It is. I suspect there is a list somewhere in Power’s office stating who has each key.”

  She turned to Xavier. “You know. It is perfectly reasonable for us to return to search for Barns when we realize we left him in the ceiling.”

  Xavier hugged her to him as he laughed. “Life is most amusing with you, Vic.”

  Tubs nodded in agreement.

  The carriage came to a halt. “Then let me interview Lady Haughton so we can proceed on catching a thief.”

  Chapter 24

  When the butler opened the door, Xavier took charge, handing the man his card. “We are here to speak to Mrs. Haughton and interview the servants.

  The butler frowned, took in Xavier and Vic, but when he stared up at Tubs his eyes grew round and fearful.

  When all three entered the parlor, the old woman pressed her hand to her chest. After her butler explained who they were, she calmed and smiled. “Please be seated…” Her eyes grew concerned as she eyed Tubs.

  He glanced at her dainty, ancient furniture. “I’ll stand.”

  “I understand that you have a ghost, or what appears to be a ghost,” Vic stated.

  The woman blushed and nodded.

  “Well, have no fear. If it is a real ghost, Mr. Tubs will scare it off.”

  “Yes, I imagine so.” She breathed in relief. “I would greatly appreciate regaining my nights for sleep again.”

  Vic now realized what was off. Ben had declared the woman excessively sleepy, yet the woman before them appeared tired, but not excessively so. “Are you taking naps during the day, then?”

  The old lady touched her nose and pointed to Vic. “Very good, Victor.”

  “I’m sorry, have we met?” Vic asked.

  “No, but I know all about you. Edith Penderheim speaks fondly of you. It’s why I went to Thorn’s Private Affairs. I would never presume to ask Sherlock Holmes to chase away a ghost, but Edith insisted you would be most willing to help me…and at a reasonable price.”

  Vic smiled, both by her kind words and because the woman called Xavier ‘Mr. Holmes’.

  “When do you sleep?” Vic asked.

  “From seven in the morning until three in the afternoon.”

  “And the ghost does not disturb you during those times?”

  “Not at all. But it is most noisy at night.”

  “And what do you do while you aren’t sleeping?”

  “I knit while the ghost makes a terrible racket.”

&nbs
p; “But you never see this ghost?”

  “No, but I have seen shadows.”

  “Shadows?” Vic repeated. She glanced at Tubs with an ‘I told you so’ smirk. Ghosts weren’t supposed to have shadows, but people pretending to be ghosts certainly would.

  “And when do these noises normally begin?”

  “At the stroke of midnight, and they continue until 4 a.m.”

  “Does anyone live here with you?”

  “The servants.”

  “Yes, we will want to speak to each of them,” Vic said. “But do you have anyone else staying here. Children, nephew, nieces?”

  “I see where your question is headed. I have no children. It’s just me…and occasionally Jeffrey.”

  “And who is Jeffrey?”

  “My great nephew. We have become very close. He brings me flowers every week.”

  “Does he have a room here?”

  “No, he has his own place.” Her smile faded. “You, no doubt, wish to know the address, but I cannot provide it.”

  “We keep anything we learn confidential,” Vic reminded her.

  “Oh yes, I know. What I don’t know is Jeffrey’s address. I’ve asked him for it several times, but every time he insists he’s already provided it, but promises to write it down again.”

  “But never does,” Vic concluded.

  “No. I can only suspect the address would not meet my approval and he wishes to preempt me from offering my assistance to improve his location, or move in here with me. This house will be his when I die, I would not mind if he wished to occupy it now.”

  Vic’s stomach roiled. “You must love your nephew a great deal.”

  She smiled. “I have many nephews and nieces, but the only one who brings me flowers and visits once a week is Jeffrey. I daresay, I wouldn’t recognize the others. I haven’t seen them since…well, in some cases, I’ve never seen them. For others, I met them when they were small children.”

  “How long has Jeffrey visited you?” Vic asked.

  “Since he graduated from Oxford, thirty years ago.”

  “And his last name?”

  “Why do you need to know?” She then smiled. “Oh, you wish to discover his address for me.”

  That was the furthest thing from Vic’s mind, but if she told the old lady the truth, she would not receive his last name. So she just smiled.