When they were done, they methodically checked to make sure they were leaving no evidence behind. They even counted the yellow tags they had removed after setting the frequencies to make sure they accounted for all of them. Those guys were thorough. Since the replacement cases were already all sealed with a braided steel wire through the hasp and a flat lead seal matching the original, all the thieves had to do was replace the wire seal on the cargo container and crimp a flat lead seal onto the wire. They then slid all the containers back to their original positions and locked them down to the deck.
As they finished up, they climbed back into the phony container and sealed themselves in. No one would ever know the robbery had taken place at thirty thousand feet over Kansas, or wherever.
I loved how the gizmo always made me look like a genius, but this one was going to be hard to explain. Even though I wouldn't have to explain to Brigman how I solved this case, I knew the value and importance of the artwork in this robbery was going to make headlines around the world, and people would constantly be asking me how I solved it. At least the robbery wouldn't reflect badly on the museum. Since the robbery hadn't occurred at the museum, they couldn't be blamed for a lack of security that would harm their chances of getting future loans of artwork.
I next jumped to the present time to learn where the four paintings were now. They were all together, and I hoped all twelve were still together. I had to move the window outside the building to get my bearings and then raise it up above the roof line. The skyline told me the paintings were still in San Francisco, but since I wasn't familiar with the city, I had to use the GPS coordinates the gizmo provided. It turned out the four paintings were in a one-car garage just off Golden Gate Avenue in the Fillmore District.
I jumped back to Milan and tagged four more, then jumped to the present time and saw that they were also in the same warehouse. When I did the last four, I only detected three at the garage. I located the fourth in an upscale private home in Oakland, so this might have been a 'steal to order' where the purpose of the entire robbery was just to get one piece. The others might have been taken on the chance the thieves might be able to sell one or two someday, or just to cover up the real target in the theft.
The first robbery I had solved for Saul Fodor involved a 'steal to order' piece of art. The crooks had taken everything to cover the fact that they had only wanted the one piece. It was extremely difficult to sell major works of art because they were usually 'one of a kind,' well-known, and easy to identify. The thieves had to find a collector willing to possess stolen merchandise that he or she could never show to anyone else or brag about owning. Sometimes the thieves wound up selling the artwork back to the insurance company for a pittance of its value because a million-dollar work of art might be worthless to them otherwise. I'm sure that was the idea behind Saul offering just two million, with no questions asked, for return of three hundred million in stolen artwork.
So knowing now where all the artwork was, all I had to do was identify the two crooks, all the support people who provided help and information, and the person who had bought the one painting and probably instigated the robbery. I had become quite expert at identifying people since my first faltering steps using the gizmo.
Then, of course, I'd have to decide how long to sit on the information before giving it to Saul. If I waited too long, the thieves might decide to ship the 'extra' art out of the country. And if I solved the case too quickly, Saul would expect me to solve all the cases as quickly. I feared I was already reaching that point, which might be why he hadn't brought me into the case earlier. I was like his relief pitcher and would normally only be brought into the game in the ninth inning.
I was just about to start the identification process when my cell phone rang. Picking it up, I saw the call was from Saul Fodor.
"Good morning, Saul," I said when I made the connection.
"Morning? It's nighttime here in New York. Colt, the museum folks said you haven't visited them yet."
"That's correct, Saul."
"Colt, you have to get busy on this. We stand to lose three hundred million. My Board of Directors is all over my ass."
"Saul, I am working on it. I've spent every minute since I awoke today reading over all the reports to gain an understanding of the robbery and piece together how I think it happened. Meanwhile, my internal clock is still trying to get used to the time difference between San Francisco and Greece."
"Have you learned anything new?"
"I can't say for sure, yet, but I don't believe the theft occurred at the museum. I believe the paintings were taken while en route."
"That's impossible. The tamper-proof seals were never tampered with."
"Perhaps."
"Perhaps? Are you telling me it was an inside job?"
"No, Saul. I'm only speculating at this point based on what I've read. But I'm hard at work on the case even if I haven't visited the museum yet. When I do visit them, I believe it will just be to confirm that the theft did not occur there. That should make them feel better because their reputation for proper security won't be affected by the theft."
"That is, if you can prove it."
"Don't I always?"
"Uh, yes."
"Then calm down and trust that you have the best recovery person in the world working on the case full-time. Even though it may appear to you like I'm not working, I assure you I am hard at work. I'm anxious to wrap this case up quickly and get back to Greece, Mia, and my vacation."
"Okay, Colt. I'm sorry. I know you're the best. I'm just not used to having Board members calling me every hour to get a progress report."
"I understand, Saul. And I assure you I'll brief you as soon as I have anything concrete."
"Okay, Colt. Thanks."
"Goodnight, Saul."
As I ended the call, I knew Saul was going to be on my back until I wrapped up the case. I decided to 'find' the eleven pieces of art quickly. That would solve the potential problem of having them disappear to other parts of the world while also getting a little relief from the Board for Saul.
But for now, my task was to identify the perps and their immediate accomplices, if any.
Learning the identities of the two thieves was as easy as I had expected. I just tagged them and went back to the date of their births to get their names off their birth certificates as the doctors, nurses, or administration staff completed the documents. I was surprised to learn that one was a female and, later, that they had been a husband-and-wife robbery team for more than two decades.
~
The following morning my internal clock was comfortably back on local time and I arose before seven. I enjoyed a good breakfast in my suite and then prepared for a busy day. The museum didn't open for a few hours, so I did a little sightseeing. It was my first trip to San Francisco, and I'm sure I gawked like a typical tourist. Even though I was a New York City resident and used to big cities, the sights were unique. At one point I realized I had seen the same two faces at several different tourist locations. They were trying to fit in, but they certainly weren't tourists. I decided to see how serious they were about following me, so I hailed a cab and had the driver take me to the San Francisco Zoo.
Ten minutes after entering the park, I spotted one of my shadows. He had one eye on the giraffes and one on me. There was an earphone in his right ear, but I doubted he had a hearing problem. I casually walked over and stopped immediately next to him as I stared at the giraffes. After a few seconds I said, "Seems like such a waste of taxpayer dollars to have an SFPD team following me around town. I'll save you some effort. I'm headed to the museum next. I was just killing time until they opened, and I decided to enjoy the sights." To his credit, he never tried to deny his role and, in fact, never responded in the slightest, so I wandered away.
~
Rather than approach the museum staff immediately, I bought a ticket and wandered around looking at the exhibits. They had some wonderful artwork as part of their permanent coll
ection, and I could have stayed there for hours studying the exhibits if I'd had the time, but I had work to do.
Approaching a security guard, I asked, "Where do I find Mr. Hewitt?"
Pointing, he said, "They can tell you at the administration office, sir."
"Thank you."
I repeated my question to a clerk at the administration office counter.
"What is this in reference to, sir?" she asked as she continued to sort though some papers.
"Three hundred million dollars in stolen paintings," I said in a lowered voice as I leaned in towards her.
She stopped looking through the papers and raised her eyes to stare at me.
"I'm afraid I don't understand."
"Just tell him Colton James is here. He'll understand."
"Mr. James? Yes, sir. He's been expecting you. One moment, sir."
She picked up a phone and entered several numbers, then said, "Mr. James to see Mr. Hewitt." She listened for a few seconds, then hung up the phone and said, "Mr. Patrice will be right with you. He'll take you to where Mr. Hewitt is working presently."
"Thank you."
The woman returned to her paperwork, and I stood near the counter looking around until a young man who looked like he might be an intern approached me. "Mr. James?"
"Yes."
My assumption that he was an intern was based on my assessment of his age. He didn't look much more than twenty-one, and he was wearing a suit.
"I'm Robert Patrice. If you'll follow me, I'll take you to Mr. Hewitt. He's been anxiously awaiting your arrival."
I followed the young man through the museum and then through a door that had required him to enter a security code before he could open it. After a few more minutes of traversing corridors, we came to a work area where half a dozen people were hard at work cleaning canvases, pottery, and whatever.
"Ah, Mr. James. Welcome to our work area. I'm Benjamin Hewitt."
"Hello, Mr. Hewitt. You have a very nice museum here, and your permanent collection is superb."
"Thank you, Mr. James. It's a lot of work to keep it clean and in top condition, but our staff is a dedicated group of professionals."
"I see that."
"And now, Mr. James, have you learned anything new about the robbery?"
"I only arrived in town yesterday, Mr. Hewitt, and I had just flown in from Greece. But I've read through the entire file of investigator reports, and I can say with certainty that the theft didn't occur here in the museum, so your security is not in question and you shouldn't fear being tarnished in any way by the crime."
"And what leads you to that conclusion, Mr. James?"
"The simplest of deductive reasoning, Mr. Hewitt. If the thieves had taken the paintings from here, there would have been no reason to replace them with phony canvases. The phony canvases were only needed so the cases matched the original weight and feel during handling. That delayed the time that the theft was discovered. It also served to keep investigators from determining exactly where the theft occurred."
"You said the feel of the cases during handling?"
"Yes. If they had simply replaced the paintings with a piece of lead matching the weight of the original painting, the case would have felt off balance and different."
"I see. One of the policemen said they probably replaced the canvases to make the investigators think the theft occurred somewhere else."
"No, the thieves wouldn't have bothered doing that. It would have required too much effort to get those phony canvases and frames into the museum. And if they had been stealing the paintings from here, they would simply have cut them from the frames to get out as quickly as possible."
"Yes, that makes perfect sense. So where do you believe the theft took place?"
"That's the big question. It naturally had to have happened while the paintings were en route. When I learn how they accomplished it, I should be able to pinpoint where it happened. As each part of the puzzle is revealed, we move one step closer to the thieves and the paintings. But since it didn't happen here, you won't be seeing much of me as I investigate. I'll be concentrating my investigations on the transportation part of the puzzle."
"Do you think you can recover the artwork before the exhibit is set to open in three weeks?
"I'd better, or my fiancée will have my head. We're supposed to go on vacation around that time."
* * *
Chapter Twenty-One
After leaving the museum, I hailed a cab and headed for the local offices of the airfreight operation that had arranged for the cargo container transportation from Milan to San Francisco. I already knew how the theft had been accomplished, thanks to the gizmo, but I had to put in appearances here and there so everyone would think I was actually conducting an investigation.
I knew people were watching me. The SFPD had been easy to spot, but there were most likely others watching as well. The people behind the theft would want to know what I was doing and who I was talking to— not the husband-and-wife team that had actually committed the theft, but rather the brains behind the operation. According to their past history, the two who pulled off the heist weren't capable of organizing something on this scale on their own.
Someone with intelligence and a large bankroll had been pulling the strings from the beginning. The replacement cases had been prepared to weigh precisely what the originals weighed. Only someone with detailed inside information could have known the exact weights and managed to have them ready in time. And that same person had managed to get a copy of the lead seal image and make a die in time to get it aboard the plane at Newark.
That's the person I wanted to identify, even if I might never be able to prove his or her involvement in the crime. The really smart operators, like Delcona, had layers of people between themselves and the minions who actually pulled off the jobs and ditched or buried the bodies. The only way to bring them down was to find someone close to them who could be squeezed until their eyes bled and they agreed to testify against the top people in return for reduced charges and sentences, or complete immunity from prosecution.
At the airfreight office, I asked to speak to whoever the top manager was. When the counter person asked what it was in reference to, I opened my ID wallet and said I was investigating a theft. He asked what had been stolen, and I told him he wasn't high enough up the management chain to receive that information. He looked at me with disdain, then picked up the phone.
"Mrs. Weinwright, there's an FBI agent here and he's asking to see you."
After listening for a moment, the clerk said, "She wants to know what it's in reference to."
"I told you. It's in reference to a theft."
"Hs says it's in reference to a theft."
After a few more seconds, he said, "She wants to know what's been stolen."
I held out my hand for the phone receiver, and the clerk handed it to me.
"Mrs. Weinwright, this is Special Agent Colton James. The information I have is not to be shared with office clerks. Are you the senior manager here or not?"
"Yes, Mr. James, I am the Director for Terminal Operations in San Francisco."
"Then my information is for your ears only."
"I'm very busy today, Mr. James."
"Very well, Mrs. Weinwright, I shall make a note of your complete lack of cooperation in this very serious investigation. Good day."
I put the receiver down and turned towards the door, noting the looks of shock on the faces of the other clerks behind the counter. I hadn't reached the exit when the first clerk called out to me.
"Agent James. Mrs. Weinwright will see you in five minutes, if you can wait."
I turned back and nodded. The clerk told Mrs. Weinwright that I would wait.
It was actually twelve minutes before a young woman approached me and offered to take me to Mrs. Weinwright's office. I followed along and was guided through a hallway to a door where the lettering announced it was the office of the Director for Terminal Operations in San Fran
cisco. The young woman gestured towards the door and said, "Go on in, sir."
I thanked her and entered the office. A secretary gestured towards another door and said, "She's expecting you, Mr. James. Go ahead in."
I entered the inner office and saw a woman of about fifty in an expensive business suit standing behind a desk. There was also a man in the office. Also impeccably dressed, he stared at me when I entered the office.
"I'm Colton James."
"I'm Mrs. Weinwright, Agent James." Gesturing towards the man she said, "This is Mr. Mangini. He's the Regional Head of Operations."
Mangini extended his hand and smiled. I took it, and smiled back as I shook it.
"May I see some ID please, Agent James?"
I took out my ID wallet and flipped it open. Mangini studied the ID for a couple of seconds then nodded.
"Mr. Mangini and I were discussing some very important matters. I apologize if I appeared abrupt."
"I won't take up very much of your time, Mrs. Weinwright. Please understand that the matter I'm going to discuss has not yet been made public and must remain that way for the present. Your company recently transported a collection of paintings valued at three hundred million dollars from Milan to San Francisco. Somewhere from the time the artwork was turned over to your company or its representatives at the Milan airport for transport to this terminus, and it arrived here, the artwork was removed from the cargo container. All twelve pieces were stolen."
"Do you have the shipment data?"
I removed a paper from my inside jacket pocket, opened it, and handed it to her. She took it and keyed something into the computer on her desk, then read from the screen.
"That shipment arrived at the Milan airport in an armored truck under heavy guard and the cargo was transferred to a cargo container and sealed. The container was then loaded aboard a flight intended for the U.S. The container was passed by customs at Newark and then loaded with others aboard a non-stop flight to San Francisco. The flight was met here by an armored truck and the shipment was checked and signed for. That's everything I can tell you about it."
Vengeance Is Personal (A Colton James Novel, Book 2) Page 25