Rock of Ages Read Free Page B

know,” Huyghe said as he settled back into his chair, “but I’m rather glad he’s gone. There are a few things I’d like to discuss with you, Drake, if you’ve no objection.”
    “None at all,” Maijstral said. “By the way, is that a Jasper in the corner?”
    Huyghe smiled. “It is indeed. An atypical piece—you have a good eye.”
    “I didn’t know you collected moderns.”
    Lady Huyghe tapped ash from her Cohima and contemplated the brandy in her snifter. “My taste, actually,” she said. “The piece struck my fancy years ago, and Tony bought it for my birthday.”
    “How thoughtful,” Maijstral said.
    “I was wondering, Drake,” Huyghe said, “if you’d be interested in any commissions while you’re here. There are some pieces in private collections that I’m itching to get a look at, but their owners are quite reclusive, and I’m afraid the only way I’ll ever see them is if I arrange for them to . . . “ He tapped cigar ash. “To appear in my own collection,” he finished.
    “I’d love to oblige,” Maijstral said, “but my stay on Earth already suffers from an overfull programme. Perhaps I can give you an introduction to someone in the burglar line who will be able to accommodate you.”
    “I’d appreciate that very much.” A light glowed in Huyghe’s eyes. “I imagine you’ve got quite a few surprises planned for that Vandergilt character, eh?”
    Maijstral smiled thinly. “Ye-es,” he drawled. Not the least of which, he considered, was the fact he wouldn’t be stealing anything at all while he was here.
    Later that evening, Maijstral politely sniffed Lord Huyghe’s ears and Lady Huyghe’s wrist, then returned to his chambers determined to order Drexler and Roman to get rid of all the burglar equipment for the length of time they stayed on Earth. No point in getting arrested for carrying gear he had no intention of using, and which might be technically illegal in some jurisdiction or other.
    Maijstral opened his door and told the room to turn on the lights. He looked up and his heart gave a leap of terror. He stared at his dresser and only managed to avoid gibbering because he was speechless with fear.
    Atop his dresser, fresh from cleaning and restoration, was Titian’s Man with a Glove .

CHAPTER TWO

    Sweat prickled on Maijstral’s scalp. He was being set up. He pictured Colonel-General Vandergilt kicking in the door with her heavy black boots, smiling an evil smile as she raised her mapper and squeezed the trigger. Caught red-handed, she’d say, too bad he tried to escape…
    Maijstral turned to the service plate, intending to summon Roman and have his servant somehow get the painting away.
    “Hallo,” said a voice. Maijstral spun around and winced as a brass doorknob punched his kidney. In an upper corner of the room, colors shifted as the holographic projectors of a darksuit turned themselves off to reveal a small woman, hand raised in a cheerful wave.
    “Sorry if I startled you,” she said. She floated to the floor a few feet in front of Maijstral. “I just wanted to show you my bag from the Louvre.”
    Maijstral made an effort to move his thrashing heart from his throat to a more conventional location. “You’ve shown it to me,” Maijstral said. “Now please leave.”
    The woman held out her hand. “Conchita Sparrow,” she said. “Pleased to meet you.”
    Her accent was uncouth and her hair was arranged in a kind of informal, outlandish dorsal fin on top of her head, perhaps in hope of making her seem taller. Her face was bright-eyed and pleasant, though not beautiful. Maijstral hesitantly reached out a hand, offered her a cautious one-fingered handclasp. She gave him two fingers in return, a presumption of a greater intimacy than Maijstral was willing, given the circumstances, to contemplate.
    “Actually,” she said, “I was looking for a tech designer job. I thought you might be more interested in looking at my recordings if I showed you how