False Impression (35 page)

But even they
were entitled to a meal break.

Jack sat down to
a breakfast of eggs, bacon, devilled kidneys, mushrooms and tomatoes, followed
by toast, English marmalade and coffee.

‘You must be
hungry after such an ordeal,’ remarked Arabella.

If it hadn’t
been for Tom, I might have had to settle for prison rations.’

‘And I fear I am
to blame,’ said Anna. ‘Because I fingered you,’ she added with a grin.

‘Not true,’ said
Tom. ‘You can thank Arabella for having Jack arrested, and Arabella for having
him released.’

‘No, I can’t
take all the credit,’ Arabella said, stroking one of the dogs, seated on each
side of her. T
admit
to having Jack arrested, but it
was your ambassador who managed to get him what’s the American expression? –
sprung.’

‘But there is
one thing I still don’t understand/ said Anna,

‘
despite
Tom filling us in with all the finer details. Why
did you continue to follow me to Wentworth once you were convinced I was no
longer in possession of the painting?’

‘Because I
thought the woman who murdered your driver would then follow you to London.’

‘Where she
planned to kill me?’ said Anna quietly. Jack nodded, but didn’t speak. ‘Thank
God I never knew,’ she said, pushing her breakfast to one side.

‘But by then
she’d already been arrested for murdering Sergei,’ queried Arabella.

‘That’s right,’
said Jack, ‘but I didn’t know that until I met up with Tom last night.’

‘So the FBI had
been keeping an eye on me at the same time
?5
said
Anna, turning to face Jack, who was buttering some toast.

‘For some
considerable time,’ admitted Jack. ‘At one point, we even wondered if you were
the hired assassin.’

‘On what
grounds?’ demanded
Anna.

‘An art
consultant would be a good front for someone who worked for Fenston, especially
if she was also an athlete, and just happened to be born in Romania.’

‘And just how
long have I been under investigation?’ asked Anna.

‘For the past
two months,’ admitted Jack. He took a sip of coffee. ‘In fact, we were just
about to close your file when you stole the Van Gogh.’

‘I didn’t steal
it,’ said Anna sharply.

‘She retrieved
it, on my behalf,’ interjected Arabella. ‘And with my blessing, what’s more.’

‘And are you
still hoping that Fenston will agree to sell the painting so that you can clear
the debt, because if he did, it would be a first.’

‘No,’ said
Arabella, a little too quickly. ‘That’s the last thing I want.’

Jack looked
puzzled.

‘Not until the
police solve the mystery of who murdered your sister,’ interjected Anna.

‘We all know who
murdered my sister,’ said Arabella sharply,

‘
and
if she ever crosses my path, I’ll happily blow her head
off.’

Both dogs
pricked up their ears.

‘Knowing it is
not the same as proving it,’ said Jack.

‘So Fenston has
got away with murder,’ said Anna quietly.

‘More than once,
I suspect,’ admitted Jack. ‘The bureau has had him under investigation for some
time. There are four -’ he paused – ‘now five murders in different parts of the
world that have the Krantz trademark, but we’ve never been able to link her
directly to Fenston.’

‘Krantz murdered
Victoria, and Sergei,’ said Anna.

“Without a
doubt,’ said Jack.

‘And Colonel
Sergei Slatinaru was your father’s commanding officer,’ added Tom, ‘as well as
being a close friend.’

‘I’ll do
anything I can to help,’ said Anna, close to tears, ‘and I mean anything.’

‘We’ve had a
tiny break,’ admitted Tom, ‘though we can’t be sure it will lead us anywhere.
When Krantz was taken into hospital to have the bullet removed from her
shoulder, the only thing they found on her, other than the knife and a little
cash, was a key.’

‘But surely it
will fit a lock in Romania?’ suggested Anna.

‘We don’t think
so,’ said Jack, after devouring another mushroom.

‘It has NYRC 13
stamped on it. Not much of a lead, but if we could find out what it opened, it
might, just might, connect Krantz to Fenston.’

‘So do you want
me to stay in England while you continue your investigation?’ asked Anna.

‘No, I need you
to return to New York,’ said Jack. ‘Let everyone know you’re safe and well, act
normally, even look for a job. Just don’t give Fenston any reason to become
suspicious.’

‘Do I stay in
touch with my former colleagues in his office?’ asked Anna. ‘Because Fenston’s
secretary, Tina, is one of my closest friends.’

‘Are you sure
about that?’ asked Jack, putting down his knife and fork.

“What are you
getting at?” asked Anna.

‘How do you
explain the fact that Fenston always knew exactly where you were, if Tina
wasn’t telling
himP

‘I can’t,’
said
Anna, ‘but I know she hates Fenston as much as I do.’

‘And you can
prove it?’ asked Jack.

‘I don’t need
proof,’ snapped Anna.

‘I do,’ said
Jack, calmly.

‘Be careful,
Jack, because if you’re wrong/ said Anna, ‘then her life must also be in
danger.’

‘If that’s the
case, all the more reason for you to return to New York and make contact with
her as soon as possible,’ suggested Tom, trying to calm the atmosphere.

Jack nodded his
agreement.

‘I’m booked on a
flight this afternoon/ said Anna.

The too/ said
Jack.
‘Heathrow?’

‘No, Stansted/
said Anna.

Well, one of you
is going to have to change your flight/ suggested Tom.

‘Not me/ said
Jack. ‘I’m not going to be arrested for stalking a second time.’

‘Before I make a
decision on whether to change flights/ said Anna, ‘I’ll need to know if I’m
still under investigation.
Because if I am, you can go on
following me.’

‘No,’ said Jack.
‘I closed your file a few days ago.’

What convinced
you to do that?’ asked Anna.

When Arabella’s
sister was murdered, you had an unimpeachable witness as your alibi.’

‘And who was
that, may I ask?’

The,’ replied
Jack. ‘As I’d been following you around Central Park, you can’t have been in
England.’

‘You run in
Central Park?’ said Anna.

‘Every morning
round the loop,’ said Jack.
‘Round the Reservoir on Sundays.’

The too,’ said
Anna. ‘Never miss.’

‘I know,’ said
Jack. ‘I overtook you several times during the last six weeks.’

Anna stared at
him.
‘The man in the emerald-green T-shirt.

You’re not bad.’

Tou’re not
so...’

‘I’m sorry to
break up this meeting of the Central Park joggers’ club,’ said Tom, as he
pushed back his chair, ‘but I ought to be getting back to my office. There’s a
stack of 9/11 files on my desk I haven’t even opened. Thank you for breakfast,’
he added, turning to Arabella. ‘I’m only sorry that the ambassador had to
disturb you so early this morning.’

‘Which reminds
me,’ said Arabella, as she rose from her chair.

‘I must get on
with writing some humble-pie letters, my thanks to the ambassador and my
apologies to half the Surrey police force.’

What about me?’
said
Jack.
‘I’m thinking of suing the Went worth
Estate, the Surrey police and the Home Office, with Tom as my witness.’

‘Not a hope,’
said Tom. ‘I wouldn’t care to have Arabella as an enemy.’

Jack smiled.
‘Then I’ll have to settle for a lift to the Wentworth Arms.’

Tou got it,’
said Tom.

‘And now that I
feel safe to join you at Heathrow,’ said Anna, rising from her place, ‘where
shall we meet?’

‘Don’t worry,’
said Jack. ‘I’ll find you.’

L
eapman was
driven to JFK to pick up the painting an hour before the plane was due to land.
That didn’t stop Fenston calling him every ten minutes on the way to the
airport, which became every five once the limousine was on its way back to Wall
Street with the red crate safely stowed in the trunk.

Fenston was
pacing up and down his office by the time Leap man was dropped outside the
front of the building, and waiting in the corridor when Barry and the driver
stepped out of the elevator carrying the red crate.

‘Open it,’
ordered Fenston, long before the box had been propped up against the wall in
his office. Barry and the driver undid the special clamps before setting about
extracting the long nails that had been hammered firmly into the rim of the
wooden crate, while Fenston, Leapman and Tina looked on. When the lid was
finally prised open and the polystyrene corners that were holding the painting
in place were removed, Barry lifted the painting carefully out of the wooden
crate and leant it up against the chairman’s desk. Fenston rushed forward and
began to tear off the bubble wrap with his bare hands, until he could at last see
what he’d been willing to kill for.

Fenston stood
back and gasped.

No one else in
the room dared to speak until he had offered an opinion. Suddenly, the words
came
tumbling out in a torrent.

‘It’s even more
magnificent than I’d expected,’ he declared.

The colours are
so fresh, and the brushwork so bold. Truly a masterpiece,’ he added. Leapman
decided not to comment. m-nawivi-*

1
know
exactly where I’m going to hang my Van Gogh,’ said
Fenston.

He looked up and
stared at the wall behind his desk, where a massive photograph of George W.
Bush shaking hands with him on his recent visit to Ground Zero filled the
space.

Anna was looking
forward to her flight back to the States, and the chance to get to know Jack a
little better during the seven-hour journey. She even hoped that he would
answer one or two more questions. How did he find out her mother’s address, why
was he still suspicious of Tina, and was there any proof that Fenston and
Krantz even knew each other?

Jack was waiting
for her when she checked in. Anna took a little time to relax with a man she
couldn’t forget had been following her for the last nine days, and
investigating her for the past eight weeks, but by the time they climbed the
steps to the aircraft, together for a change, Jack knew she was a Knicks fan,
liked spaghetti and Dustin Hoffman, while Anna had found out that he also
supported the Knicks, that his favourite modern artist was Fernando Botero, and
nothing could replace his mother’s Irish stew.

Anna was
wondering if he liked fat women when his head fell onto her shoulder. As she
was the cause of his not getting much sleep the previous night, Anna felt she
was hardly in a position to complain. She pushed his head gently back up, not
wishing to wake him. She began making a list of things she needed to do once
she was back in New York, when Jack slumped back down onto her shoulder. Anna
gave in and tried to sleep with his head there. She had once read that the head
is one-seventh of your body weight and no longer needed to be convinced.

She woke about
an hour before they were due to land to find Jack was still asleep, but his arm
was now draped around her shoulder. She sat up sleepily and accepted a cup of
tea from the stewardess.

Jack leaned
across. ‘So how was it for you?’ he asked, grinning.

‘I’ve had
worse,’ she replied, ‘and some of them were awake.’

‘So what’s the
first thing you’re going to do, now that you’ve miraculously risen from the
dead:* he asked.

‘Call my family
and friends and let them know just how alive I am, and then find out if anyone
wants to employ me. And you?’

‘I’ll have to
check in with my boss and let him know I’m no nearer to nailing Fenston, which
will be greeted with one of his two favourite maxims. “Raise your game, Jack,”
or “Step it up a notch.”‘

That’s hardly
fair,’ said Anna, ‘now that Krantz is safely behind bars.’

‘No thanks to
me,’ said Jack. ‘And then I’ll have to face up to an even fiercer wrath than
the boss’s, when I try to explain to my mother why I didn’t call her from
London and apologize for not turning up for her Irish stew night. No, my only
hope of redemption is to discover what “NYRC” stands for.’ Jack put a hand in
his top pocket. ‘After I’d checked out of the Wentworth Arms,

I travelled on
to the embassy with Tom, and thanks to modern technology, he was able to
produce an exact copy of the key, even though the original is still in
Romania.’ He pulled the facsimile out of his top pocket and handed it across to
Anna.