Lost Art Assignment Read Free Page B

you know how it works,” Nicole said. “Contacts, cut-outs and couriers. I received telephone calls from a blocked number and those calls were pre-recorded to prevent conversation. I returned calls to a different number each time. Those calls were run through at least three switching stations, and they always went to voicemail. I submit merchandise to an overseas post box, but it never actually arrives there. My money is deposited in my Swiss account.”
    â€œVery professional, very organized,” Felicity said. “Above all, it’s got style. These people from the Continent?”
    â€œNow you want my hunches. Are they worth the deal?”
    Felicity glanced at Morgan. He returned a subtle nod. No one in the room really wanted Nicole in police custody. If the charming thief went to trial she would surely drag Tommy into court. Morgan and Felicity didn’t want Tommy implicated because his father didn’t want him charged. They would accept what they could get, but in any case, would let Nicole go.
    â€œGive me what you’ve got,” Felicity said.
    â€œOkay. I think they’re American. From what they’ve asked for, their customers are, anyway. And the voice on the taped messages is not Californian. It is New York, I think, or in any case, East Coast American. And this. I think maybe he’s black.”
    â€œNot bad,” Felicity said. “Ever meet anybody in the group, face to face?”
    â€œThey’re not that stupid.”
    Felicity handed Nicole a sheet of hotel stationery. “Phone numbers and calling times. Then you leave for Europe within two hours. No contacts. Lay low for a month. And if you return to the States after that, check who’s doing security on any target before you hit it. If it’s us, move on.”
    â€œAnd that’s it?”
    â€œThat, and this,” Morgan said. “Break the deal, any part of it, and I’ll find you. After that, you won’t be pretty.”
    Nicole walked over to Morgan, staring deep into his eyes. “You’ve never beaten a woman in your life. I can see it in there. But I won’t make you have to break your record. Now, if I’m to be on a plane in two hours, I suppose I mustbe going.”
    â€œYour things?” Felicity asked.
    â€œThe room is his, not mine, and I travel light. Au revoir, mes amis.”
    When the door clicked shut behind Nicole, Morgan said “I’ll bet you’ve got a plan for recovering the lost paintings, huh?”
    â€œWell, sure and I’ve got a hunch as to how we can locate them. But first, I think we ought to wake up the boy and take him home, along with this painting and a complete report.”

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    Felicity watched Gerard Cartellone’s hands trembling slightly as he lifted his newly returned Robert Bechtle oil by its plain walnut frame, hanging it in its own place of prominence beside two others by the same artist. He took one step back and ran a rough hand through thinning gray hair.
    â€œSuch sharpness, such practiced simplicity,” Cartellone said quietly. “How could I have missed that forgery?”
    â€œBe fair, Mister Cartellone,” Felicity began.
    â€œAnd again, will you please call me Gerry?” he asked over his shoulder, while he removed the next two paintings from the wall.
    â€œAll right, Gerry,” Felicity said. “But of all painters, the realists are the easiest to copy. Look at those two fakes you just took down. It’s a lot harder to see the style in their exact realism.”
    â€œYou’d have spotted it before long,” Morgan said, scanning the art lining the room. Track lighting highlighted each work on the two long walls. A bar stood at the room’s near end, opposite the stereo delivering Brahms at moderate volume. “We’re just lucky you invited us down here socially. Felicity knew because it’s her business. If we found out about the switch after the last