A World Without Secrets (14 page)

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Authors: Thomas DePrima

BOOK: A World Without Secrets
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The reporters had finally left, so I pulled the door closed and walked down to look at my new car.

The silver-grey BMW looked distinctly out of place in this neighborhood, and I knew I would have to garage it or it would disappear within a week. The alarm chirped twice when I deactivated it. Every kid in the neighborhood was standing around the newest model from the Bavarian Motor Works, admiring the luxury automobile as I opened the front door. I slid behind the wheel to jealous stares from my neighbors. The sounds of raw power filled the street as I gunned the engine slightly, and the tires squealed when I released the clutch a little too quickly, leaving the neighbors to stare after me with their mouths agape. I only took a ten-minute ride before pulling into a garage a block from my apartment. I arranged to house the car on a monthly basis and then walked home. Most of the neighbors had returned to whatever they were doing before the car was delivered, but a few watched me until I was inside my building. I guess I'd just have to get used to being the neighborhood celebrity for a while.

After entering my apartment, I penned a thank you note to the Von Waggermanns and put it on the large 'to-be-mailed' clip I had by my door so I'd remember to mail it.

* * *

I found that I had to keep a tight rein on myself during the drive up to Boston. Designed for use on Germany's autobahn, the new car seemed to want to fly. The fresh air and warm sun of a bright day in May made me feel like I could fly as well. Although I wished I could let the speedometer needle center on 90 mph for a while, I had to keep reminding myself that the large red, white and blue signs on the highway to Boston were interstate highway identifiers and not speed limit signs.

I spent an entire first morning at the Merchendes mansion interviewing the staff and trying to make it appear like I actually knew what I was doing by examining doors, walls, and even the walk-in refrigerator. Having intimate knowledge of the crime made it easy for me to impress them. If they glossed over a fact, I didn't let them continue until they had described it properly.

I also visited the police detectives who had worked the crime. They tried to pick my brain as I pretended to pick theirs. At the request of Mr. Fodor, I stopped into the Boston headquarters of the insurance company and spoke to the investigators who had worked the case from their end. I remained non-committal when they tried to learn what I had discovered so far. The insurance company investigators should have intensely resented my involvement, and they probably did, but they seemed almost cordial. I was sure they had orders to cooperate fully.

I spent the rest of my day on a walking tour of downtown Boston. When I spotted a tail, I led the poor man on a merry chase through narrow downtown streets that didn't allow him an opportunity to disguise his errand. At one point I turned a corner, then immediately stopped and turned to face him. I was leaning against the building when he came hurrying around the corner and bumped into me. He apologized, then walked around me and hurried away. I didn't see him, or anyone else, tailing me again.

In all, I spent four days in Boston. I visited all the places I should visit for the investigation and a few of the major tourist attractions for myself. I got to eat a lot of great seafood and the weather cooperated fully. Overall, it was a fun trip.

After returning to New York, I began to spend time in earnest trying to identify the thieves. It had been easy to match a name with the wealthy man who had initiated the theft, but the muscle was the smash-and-grab type of criminal. They lived in cheap hotels and flophouses. I was able to learn the names of three of the five by reading them off their mail, but the last two eluded me. If only I had audio.

At least twice a week I took time out to have lunch with Kathy, and we went out every weekend. When she asked what I was working on I would only tell her that it was a big case. She tried every trick she knew, but I steadfastly refused to tell her, alluding that it was better she didn't know because it might be dangerous if she did.

There were only three days left of the thirty when I lucked out. The two remaining unidentified men had been arrested after getting into a bar fight in which another patron was shot. I was able to read their names off the police blotter the following morning. I wrapped up my report quickly and went to visit Mr. Fodor at his office.

As soon as I was announced, Fodor said to send me in. In my presence, he asked the two men with whom he'd been in conference to leave and said he'd call them when he was done. He then asked me to take a seat.

"Well, Mr. James, I had expected to hear from you before now."

"This was a difficult one, Mr. Fodor. But then you wouldn't have contacted me and offered so much money if it wasn't."

"Was? You've solved it?"

"Of course. Here's my report."

Fodor read through the report and then looked at me in surprise. "You're accusing Mr. George Henry Bosworth of instigating this crime?"

"Yes, but he didn't only instigate it; he planned it. All he wanted was the one painting. The remainder can be picked up at the storage facility building."

"This is remarkable. Do you know who Bosworth is?"

"Yes, he's a financier who collects stolen artwork he can't buy outright because the owners don't wish to sell and he doesn't have the clout to force them."

Fodor just stared open-mouthed. "You mean there are others?"

"I believe so. He has three paintings hanging in his vault. I wouldn't be surprised to learn that one or both of the others are stolen. I know the Merchendes painting is hanging there."

"How do you know all this?"

"Sorry, our agreement doesn't require me to reveal my sources."

Fodor stared at the report for about thirty seconds. "I can't accuse Bosworth without proof."

"Let me suggest that you have the police round up the actual thieves. No problem with that, right?"

Fodor shook his head. "None, if what you say in this report is accurate. We know from the way they manhandled the Merchendes staff that they're scum."

"Next, pick up the other eight paintings. No problem there?"

Fodor shook his head again.

"Then sweat the ringleader I named and have the detectives tell him that Bosworth has agreed to testify in exchange for immunity from prosecution since he's only a receiver of stolen goods and had nothing whatsoever to do with the crime. The ringleader might be so upset with Bosworth that he'll roll over on him and spill everything. At the very least, he'll probably implicate Bosworth in some way that gives the Boston Police grounds to get a search warrant. If he won't give up Bosworth and the police won't issue a search warrant, then visit Bosworth yourself and face him down. Tell him you know all about the theft and the private vault. Tell him that if he turns over the painting immediately, you'll see that his name stays unconnected, but that he'll be responsible for the recovery fees."

"That might work."

"Two of the thieves were arrested last night in a fight. If I were you, I'd call the detectives who worked the robbery case and have them make sure those two don't make bail. Then they'll only have to find the other three. I'd do that right now."

Fodor picked up his phone and had his secretary place the call. When she got through to the police precinct, he took over and explained the circumstances to the detectives. He used my name when explaining how he knew who was involved. He didn't tell the detectives that he knew where the paintings were located, only that he was on his way up on the next shuttle.

When he got off the phone he said, "Want to go?"

"You don't need me. Everything I could say is in my report. You have my new number if anything is amiss. But it isn't."

"Okay, I'll let you know how things work out."

"I'll stop in tomorrow for my payment," I said with a smile.

* * *

The late news spoke about the recovery of eight of the nine missing paintings. The reporter said an unnamed source indicated they expect to recover the last painting within a matter of hours. They credited police with acting quickly on information received from the world famous art recovery expert Colton James, and that my information was responsible for the apprehension of all five members of the gang that robbed the Merchendes home.

I smiled. "Failed author to successful skip tracer to world renowned art recovery expert. How ya gonna keep 'em down on the farm?"

* * *

"Colton James, why didn't you tell me?" Kathy screamed into my ear. It was only a little after eight and I wasn't really awake, having just been aroused by the buzzing phone.

"Hi, Kathy. Tell you what?"

"About recovering the Merchendes collection."

"Did they?"

"Don't you know? They're crediting you with solving the case. Everybody at work was talking about it when I got here, and I felt so foolish for not knowing anything about it."

"Well, I gave them the names and places, but they had to go pick up the people and the artwork. Did they get the ninth painting?"

"Yes, and they arrested some big banker and charged him with masterminding the crime."

"Bosworth."

"That's the name."

"They also found two other stolen paintings in his house and he's being charged with those robberies also."

"I guess he won't be collecting any artwork for a while."

"So why didn't you tell me?"

"I was afraid that if someone found out I was investigating, the five thugs who committed the robbery might come looking for me. I didn't want to place you in any danger. What I do could have dangerous consequences. If you don't know anything then you're not involved."

Her voice was considerably calmer when she said, "I want to be involved. I don't want any secrets between us."

"I promise there won't be any secrets between us on things that concern
us
, but I can't reveal certain facts about my work. It would be too dangerous for you to know, or it would cause you to worry incessantly."

"Well, okay. Are you going to return to writing now? You probably haven't done any during the past month."

"Yeah, I was totally tied up with the case. I hope to return to writing now. I might even self-publish and begin promoting my books. That's something I've been considering for a while."

"You won't have to worry about that now. Any publisher in New York would sign you in a heartbeat. You're a celebrity now."

"Not for writing."

"It doesn't matter. You have a name that will sell books, and that's all they're interested in. Why do you think we see so many biographies of famous people? Um, what was the reward for the Merchendes collection recovery, by the way?"

"Two million. Of course, half of that goes to taxes."

"Two million? Oh my God, Colt. Well, you definitely don't have to worry about supporting yourself while you write."

"I certainly have enough to take care of my needs. I've been thinking of looking for a condo on the East Side. Want to look with me this weekend?"

"Um, okay."

"Good, I could use a second opinion. The woman's view, and all that."

"Have you contacted any realtors yet?"

"Not yet. I was waiting until this case was resolved."

"Good, I have a friend who's a realtor. I'll have her call you."

"Okay, what's her name?"

"Peggy MacDonald."

"Tell her not to call before nine a.m. I usually work late during the week and then sleep in."

"I'll tell her. Talk to you later."

"Bye."

* * *

I shaved, showered, and ate breakfast before calling Fodor.

"Good morning, Mr. James," I heard as Fodor picked up.

"Good morning, Mr. Fodor. I understand everything went well?"

"It went perfectly. The gang leader caved the second he thought Bosworth was going to get off scot-free or just be charged with possession of stolen merchandise in exchange for implicating the men who committed the robbery. He named Bosworth as the mastermind who alerted the gang as to when the family was going to be out for the evening and what to steal. We recovered all the paintings plus two others that had been stolen during the past ten years. After the trial, they'll be turned over to the two insurance companies that paid off on their thefts. Both have agreed to share the recovery costs with us."

"And the Merchendes artwork has been authenticated?"

"Yes, it has. At least with a preliminary exam, but we feel certain they're the originals."

"Then I may stop over to collect my payment?"

"Anytime, Mr. James. The check has been cut, and it's sitting on my desk."

"Wonderful. I'll see you in an hour."

* * *

I actually arrived at Fodor's office in less than forty-five minutes. I was announced and sent in immediately.

Fodor stood up, all smiles, and extended his hand. I shook it and then sat down where Fodor indicated.

"First things first. Here's your check, Mr. James."

"Thank you, Mr. Fodor," I said as I took it and stared at all the zeros for a second before folding it and placing it in my wallet. "It's been a pleasure doing business with you."

"Likewise, Mr. James. What will you do now?"

"I'm still thinking of retiring for a couple of years in order to pursue my writing interests."

"Yes, I remember you mentioning that. The reason I ask is because we'd like to put you on retainer as a consultant."

"A retainer?"

"Yes, we were thinking of some nominal sum such as two hundred thousand a year."

"And what would be required of me?"

"Just to be available when we need you. You would still receive ten percent of the insured value of all recovered art and other items."

"I see. So if I had been on retainer now, you would have saved eight hundred thousand."

"Well, yes, but there's the retainer fee as well. We're mostly interested in ensuring that you're available when we need you. You'd have to drop whatever else you were working on."

"I think we can come to terms if you increase the percentage to fifteen."

"Fifteen percent
plus
two hundred thousand annually?"

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