by Diane Rapp
The women boarded the school bus which doubled as a tour bus during summer months. The vehicle rumbled across the parking lot and turned right in the direction of town. Busses loaded with fishermen turned left toward the marina filled with fishing boats.
Julia said, “I hope Clint catches a salmon. I really don’t want to go fishing at every port until he succeeds.”
“I didn’t know he enjoyed fishing,” Kayla said.
“He’s never gone fishing before, but the idea of catching salmon sounded exciting. I’d rather take a safe whale watching tour and hopefully see a few eagles.”
Patricia pointed outside the bus. “The driver just said there’s an eagle’s nest in that tree ahead. See that huge nest up there?” They craned their necks as a white-headed eagle stretched its wings to land and smaller heads bobbed over the edge. Everyone clicked photos and the bus rocked as it turned uphill.
The terrain looked rocky and steep. Multi-storied houses rose straight from the ground with stairs carved out of rock to reach the front doors. The bus wound its way up the hill until it pulled into a level gravel parking lot. As passengers walked alongside a building with glass windows, the guide described the process as modern carvers worked in the old traditions to carve totems. These modern poles depict the family history of people willing to pay thousands of dollars for the product.
The guide led the group to the park where colorful antique totem poles climbed the path to a tribal meeting house. On each pole stylized figures of eagles, ravens, bears, whales, and men were stacked atop each other. Shops below the park sold replicas of totems along with ordinary tourist trinkets.
Their next stop was the famous Creek Street, which originally housed brothels that serviced lonely miners and fishermen. The quaint houses, built on top of a boardwalk stretching above a steep creek, now contained pricey shops and restaurants.
Waiting on a bench, while Julia and Patricia filled their shopping baskets, Kayla answered her cell phone. “We’ve got a real problem,” Steven said. “We found the missing painting but now we’ve got a murder.”
“What?” Kayla sat upright and Natalia leaned in to listen. “Who was killed?”
“That artist who painted the glacier picture, Jeffrey Miller was found lying dead in the baggage storage room. The stolen painting was left next to the body.”
Kayla frowned. “Do you want us to come back early?”
“No. Don’t interrupt your tour. I wanted to let you know what’s happening. When you get back, we’ll all meet to discuss the case.”
*****
The baggage storage room felt like a tight squeeze, filled with golf bags, luggage, a coffin, and a corpse lying on the floor. Jason crouched next to the body. “His skull was hit from behind with an oval shaped object. My money is on one of these golf clubs, a convenient weapon.”
Steven nodded. “I don’t understand why the killer left the stolen painting behind.” He pointed at the catering cart wedged between golf bags. “I think Miller hid the painting in this trolley and wheeled it down here.”
Jason pointed at dirty tire marks across the metal floor. “Looks like the cart rolled in and someone smudged the tracks with trainers. When does the medical examiner arrive?”
“He’s flying in from Juneau by sea plane.” Steven checked his watch. “I’d say we have thirty minutes before we can move the body.”
Jeremy Greene appeared at the door with a uniformed policeman. “Steven, I’d like to introduce you to Officer Smith. I’ve filled him in on the situation and offered my credentials from the island police force.”
Steven shook Smith’s hand. “Glad to meet you and sorry to drop this mess into your lap. How do you usually handle cruise ship investigations?”
“We file the paperwork with state investigators who usually work hand in hand with the ship’s security team. I admit we normally deal with minor thefts and scuffles, so a murder case might be different.”
Jason stepped out of the room. “We’re both former Interpol agents and are used to working with local police.”
Officer Smith nodded. “Mr. Greene explained about your history, and I’m grateful for the help of experienced investigators. What can I do to help?”
Steven handed the police officer Jeffrey Miller’s identity card. “We don’t have access to police records, so can you run the victim’s name through your database? We need to know if he might be connected with other art thefts.”
“You think we have a theft ring operating here?” Officer Smith peered into the baggage storage room and swiped stray hair off his forehead. “Why would they kill the guy and leave the painting?”
“That’s what we’d all like to know,” Steven replied. “To make matters worse, this painting is a copy and the original is safe in our vault.”
“Wow! Smart thieves would have nabbed the genuine article.” The officer shook his head and left with the identity card.
Jason scowled at the fake painting. “He makes a good point. I’m beginning to wonder if the original is still safely locked away.”
“We’ll know soon. The insurance appraiser is due to arrive later today.”
The medical examiner arrived and took charge of the body. He inserted a metal probe and announced, “Death occurred between 2:00 and 2:30 a.m. I’d guess he died from that blow to his head but can’t confirm it until my autopsy is finished.” He gestured for his men to move the corpse.
As the helpers lifted the body onto a gurney, Steven picked up a shiny object off the floor.
“Hello! This cufflink was trapped under the corpse.” He held up the golden skull-and-cross-bones cufflink. “Looks like our killer left us a gift.” He dropped the cufflink into a plastic evidence bag and grinned.
Jason noticed a golf club tucked into a corner and found blood when he picked it up. “Here’s our murder weapon. It’s an expensive driver if I don’t miss my guess.”
Steven peered at the driver and said, “It’s Carson Allbright’s club, and he used it during our match yesterday. See his initials painted on each club? It looks like the grip was wiped clean, so we’ve got no prints.”
“The painting was wiped down. Why make it too easy?”
*****
Emily watched Theodore Noble, the insurance appraiser, examine Glacier Blue. Theodore frowned and said, “This is not the canvas I certified in Seattle. The work is good, very good, but it’s not the original.”
Suddenly Emily felt nauseous and sank onto a chair. Pressing the speed dial on her cell phone, her voice quavered with emotion.
“Steven, we’ve got a fake painting here. Can you bring up the other canvas for the appraiser to examine?”
Steven said, “We’re on our way. The medical examiner took the body and the crime scene’s secure.” He arrived with Jason a few minutes later.
The appraiser peered at the second canvas through a magnifying glass. “Both of these were painted by the same hand, but not the original artist. I last checked the original before the art was loaded onto the ship in Seattle. I noticed the latches on these frames but thought it was to help the auction people. Sorry I didn’t mention it at the time.”
“So someone made the switch onboard the ship.” Jason turned to Theodore. “Are we looking for a rolled up canvas?”
The appraiser shook his head. “No. Professional art thieves know that rolling up a canvas could damage delicate paint. Rolling causes cracks and flakes that diminish the painting’s value. Most likely the thief keeps the canvas flat on its stretcher bars.”
Steven picked up the fake, slid it into the empty frame, and closed the latch. “These swivel latches made it easy to achieve a fast change. A good magician could do it in front of a crowd, but I think the switch happened in the privacy of this vault.”
Jason nodded. “I’ve seen you perform, so I don’t doubt you’re right. It’s tight inside here and no one would watch very close.”
“The killer left the canvas for us to find, because Miller took the original and st
ashed it someplace. The Genuine Fake was probably already waiting for him in that storage room. Millicent Chambers said Jeffrey Miller had access to the paintings inside this vault, so he switched them ahead of time.” Steven held up the fake. “Can we give this one back to Phillip?”
Emily said, “The police will want to keep the canvas found next to the body until the investigation ends. Give Phillip the one from our vault. Both paintings are fakes, and that’s what he bought. We’ve got to find the original or my insurance fees will sky rocket.”
Jason exchanged glances with Steven, knowing it was important to find a dangerous killer, who might kill again if pushed into a corner.
“Let’s figure out where we should look. I still don’t have a clue,” Jason complained.
Steven said, “I’ll go tell Phillip that we’ve found his painting.”
Jason nodded. “I’ll call Officer Smith. Since we’ve got a murder, it might be easier to get a judge to grant a search warrant.”
*****
Hearing a knock, Phillip opened the door to the cabin and gestured Steven inside. Cynthia sat on the stool in front of the vanity styling her hair.
Steven said, “I’ve got good news! We found your glacier painting, and it’s safely locked in the vault.”
“That’s brilliant!” Phillip vigorously shook Steven’s hand. “Who’s the culprit that stole the painting?”
Steven turned away from Cynthia’s stare in the mirror and sat on the sofa. “It looks like the painter, Jeffrey Miller, is our thief. But he won’t be going to jail, he’s been murdered.”
Cynthia dropped her hairbrush and stood abruptly. Steven noticed that her red lips quivered and her large green eyes filled with tears as she rushed into the bathroom. Phillip knocked gently on the bathroom door. “Cyn, it’s nothing to do with us, darling. We barely knew the bloke so do pull yourself together.”
A moment later Cynthia emerged wiping tears with a wad of toilet paper. “I can’t believe that nice young man died because of our painting,” she sobbed. She leaned into Phillip’s shoulder but stared at Steven with panic. “Are you sure he stole it?”
Steven shrugged. “Without a confession we can’t prove it but the evidence is damning. The forensic team is examining hair and fibers from the waiter’s jacket found with the catering cart. That will probably be enough proof.”
Still crying, Cynthia plopped onto the bed. “Phillip, I can’t go out in public looking like this. Would you be a dear and get our room steward? Perhaps he can arrange for a tray to be brought to the cabin.”
Phillip nodded and left the cabin.
Now that Steven and Cynthia were alone, he stood and gazed down at his ex-wife. “Fess up, Cynthia. Why the tears over a man you hardly knew?”
Cynthia stared at the ceiling, chewing her lower lip. “I might have known him a bit more than I let on to Phillip. We met in St. Lucia and later in London.” She tried to wipe fresh tears with the soggy tissue, and Steven handed her a full box from the dresser. “Steven, I’m afraid! If they killed Jeff, they might come after me next.”
“Who? Tell me who might come after you, Cynthia!” His voice took on the hard edge usually reserved for interrogating suspects.
Cynthia reacted to his tone of voice and narrowed her eyes. “You’d never understand, mister law-and-order! Some blokes are right dangerous, and I can’t cross them!” she shouted. “Jeff didn’t tell me the details! He had a cash buyer lined up but another one pressured him to break the first deal. You’re the trained policeman! Don’t you have a list of art theft rings?”
“We need hard evidence before we arrest suspects. Cooperate with this investigation now, or we can nail you for conspiracy.” He paced like an angry tiger. “Point of fact, I believe that you’re an accomplice to the theft, so tell us everything you know. We can offer protection,” Steven insisted.
Cynthia took on a calculating expression that Steven remembered well. He ground his teeth, knowing she wouldn’t tell him anything more unless it benefitted her own agenda. “Save your own skin, before it’s too late to cut a deal,” he barked.
She said, “I need some guarantees in writing before I turn state’s evidence. It’s your job to protect me so get to work, copper!”
“This is serious business, Cynthia. If we uncover evidence you held back information that could nail a killer, I’ll lock you up myself!” His blue eyes turned dark and steely and Cynthia frowned, looking stubborn.
They heard Phillip unlocked the door. Cynthia pulled up her feet and put her head on the bed’s pillow as Steven stomped toward the exit, passing Phillip who carried a fruit basket.
“The steward sent a selection of fruit and gave me this menu,” Phillip said, handing Cynthia a folded printout. “Mark your selection, and he’ll take it to the kitchen straight away.”
“I’ll be in touch soon,” Steven growled before he firmly shut the door on the domestic scene. Outside, he paused and stood listening at the door. He heard Cynthia’s whining complaints and Phillip’s conciliatory replies—nothing that would help his case. He wondered how he was ever attracted to that woman.
Chapter 10
The Art Theft Ring
Steven told Jason about his conversation with Cynthia. Jason rubbed his forehead and heaved a great sigh. He said, “I didn’t want to tell you just yet, but the telex about Jeffrey’s activities arrived.” He handed a printed sheet of paper to Steven and waited for his friend to read the news.
“This fits,” Steven said, “and now I understand why she deserted me without a word. Cynthia and Miller were lovers in St. Lucia, and I never had a hint. She’s a better actress than I ever knew, a regular con artist.”
“Since she is self-absorbed, it’s easy to lie and cheat. Everything she did was in her own interests.” Jason pointed out the last item on the list. “Jeffrey Miller is a known associate of this group of art thieves. He painted forgeries which they switched for originals, probably got the idea for this heist from them.”
“So why are these people still on the ship? They should be long gone if they knew about his theft.” Steven paced the room and suddenly stopped. “Maybe they don’t know and still expect their scam to work. We’ve got to pay strict attention today at the auction. We can’t let them snatch another painting.”
*****
The next Genuine Fakes auction was scheduled to begin an hour after the ship sailed from Ketchikan. An eager crowd gathered inside the theater as Steven and Jason assumed their posts.
Kayla, Julia, and Patricia wandered through the room, searching for three seats.
“Does anyone know about the stolen painting and the murder?” Patricia whispered.
Kayla shook her head. “They’ve kept the investigation low key so far. Now Steven and Jason are worried there could be another attempted theft today.”
“I can’t believe it! How exciting,” Julia said as she found a group of empty chairs. The women maneuvered into position and watched as guards escorted people onto the stage to view the Totem Walk oil painting. The painting portrayed a rustic path lined with trees. Brightly painted totem poles were interspersed among brown trees along the trail, looking like glowing beacons to the wandering eye of the viewer. Julia sighed at the vivid colors displayed on the painting. “After seeing real totems today, I can understand why the artist chose to paint them.”
Patricia nodded and read the brochure about the painting. “Emily Carr started documenting totems and native carvings in the early 1900s, painting in water color, but her work didn’t sell until she was discovered by The Group of Seven in 1927.”
“I wish I’d been around to snag one of her early paintings,” Julia commented.
Steven noticed Kayla sit down and spoke softly into his radio, drawing Jason’s attention to a couple approaching the stage. “She’s wearing her fur coat today, so keep an eye out for trouble.”
“Copy that.”
The man held his companion’s elbow as they climbed the steps. A guard remained close a
s they approached the two paintings under the spotlights.
Crash!
Down the steps in the center of the main floor, a man collided with a group of paintings and fell to the floor. His body jerked and his eyes rolled back, looking like he suffered an epileptic seizure. People rushed forward to help.
The woman on stage reacted to the noise.
As if it happened in slow motion, Steven watched the scene. The woman swung around to see the commotion…Her fur coat billowed, swinging wide until it hit the easel…The valuable totem painting flew off its perch…Her companion gallantly grabbed the picture before it could crash to the floor. He juggled the painting as he tried to untangle the fur coat from the easel…The guard rushed in to set the easel upright and accepted the man’s help as he replaced the painting.
The episode took less than a minute.
As a magician Steven tracked the event, understanding the slight-of-hand that transpired. He quietly approached the couple as they descended the steps and flashed his credentials. “You’ve got quick hands, Ernie. If I didn’t know I should watch for the trick, I might’ve missed the switch. Come along now. We don’t want to create a scene in front of this crowd.”
The man shrugged and guided his companion out the side door, sandwiched between Steven and Jason. Inside the theater Jeremy Greene “helped” the third member of the team onto his feet and escorted him outside.
“Looks like Steven just busted a ring of art thieves.” Kayla grinned and pointed toward the door.
“That nice couple?” Julia asked.
“The boys watched that nice couple during each auction, waiting for them to make their move. They couldn’t arrest anyone until the gang actually tried to steal the painting. Now it’s happened.”
A few minutes later the Genuine Fake’s Totem Walk painting sold for a respectable price without further drama.
*****