Gauguin Connection, The (6 page)

“Please call me Colin.” One corner of his mouth lifted in a self-deprecating smile and the penny dropped.

“You are him!” I sat up in my chair, eyebrows raised and my heart racing. “You are the poet-man.”

Colin closed his eyes, which was as much as an admission. “How did you know?”

“Your lips. They are the same lips as those of Sydney Goddphin, John Milton and Isaac Watts.”

“How do you know?” He shook his head. “Those photos in the newspapers. I knew they were going to come and bite me in the arse one day.”

“How far back does this go?” I forgot all my previous concerns. The man in front of me was much more fascinating than any safety concerns. “I only looked back five years, but I have a feeling that you’ve been doing this much longer.”

“I would prefer to not implicate myself at this very moment.” He rubbed his wrists as if he could feel handcuffs tightening. “But I must admit that in all the time the poets have been in existence, no one has once even come close to making any connection.”

“How did you know that I had made the connection?” Wasn’t the EDA computer supposed to be secure?

“You did a Google search.”

“Surely my Google search didn’t make direct contact with you.”

“Actually it did. I’m telling you too much, Jenny.” He rubbed his hand once over his face. “But I need to know that you are taking me seriously.”

“Seriously about what?” I had so many questions. “Why are you here? How did you get in? My apartment is supposed to be secure.”

“It really wasn’t that difficult. Top-floor apartments are always easy to breach.”

“Are you telling me that you do this frequently?”

Shock registered on his face. “I’m definitely telling you too much.”

“Just tell me how you got into my apartment.” I had to know. Or else I wouldn’t be able to move on.

“Through the ceiling in the guest bathroom. It was a tight fit, but easy enough. I could also have come through the window if it wasn’t full daylight.”

“Or you could’ve knocked on my front door.”

“Would you have opened it?” He smiled when I looked at him askance. “Thought so. Jenny, why did you do this search into the poets?”

“You know that I work for an insurance company, so surely you had to come to some conclusion.”

He had just successfully managed to shift my attention from my unanswered question. Unknown to him, I had watched hundreds of interviews and had learned valuable lessons. Like when a fraud suspect started asking his own questions, much could be gleaned from those questions. For now I would allow him to take the lead. It might prove to be very informative.

“Of course I have a hypothesis, but I would rather hear from you why these poets interested you.”

I didn’t want to tell him anything that wasn’t public knowledge. I chose my words with care. “The stolen art. That was what drew my attention. I’m working on this case involving an artwork that was stolen during the Second World War and then retrieved. You were the one who identified it. One thing led to another until I found too many names of seventeenth-century poets discovering stolen artwork. I don’t believe in coincidence so I came to the conclusion that it could be the same man.”

“Which artwork?”

“Pardon?” I knew what he was asking, but needed time to consider my answer. Not only did he appear to be an accomplished burglar, he also had a way of manipulating the conversation that showed a higher intellect. That intrigued me.

“Which artwork is part of the case that you are looking into?”

“Um… I can’t tell you that,
Miste—”

“Colin.”

“Colin.” I took a deep breath. The topic needed to be changed if I was to continue keeping Manny’s confidence. “Who do you work for?”

“Who says I’m working?”

I lifted one eyebrow and glared at him. “You’re the one who quoted my IQ. Don’t underestimate me.”

“I would never make that mistake. No one has ever gotten me to talk so much about myself.”

“Not that you’ve said much.” Something clicked into place. “Your name. You don’t tell people your real name.”

“I’m not admitting that it’s my real name.”

“Your face tells me it is.” It was interesting that someone who for obvious reasons would not trust anyone chose to trust me. “Tell me, why do you steal these pieces back?”

“I’ve never admitted to stealing anything.”

“True. But we both know that you’re the one stealing back these art pieces, some of which were thought lost forever.”

“Were they?” He held up his hands when I frowned. His avoidance was becoming annoying. “Okay, okay. So those pieces are valuable, but I’m not here to talk about that.”

“Then tell me why you are here.” Even though I was desperately curious about his motives behind re-appropriating those artworks, this was a much more pressing issue.

“Why are you looking into Gauguin’s Still Life, The White Bowl?”

“I can’t tell you that.”

“Is that the piece of artwork the police had found on the dead girl?”

“I can’t tell you that,” I repeated, but this time my voice sounded breathless. How was it possible that he knew about the piece of the painting found on the girl? “And stop answering my questions with questions.”

“I know it is a lot to ask of you, but I need you to trust me.”

A disbelieving sound escaped my lips. “I don’t know you. All I know about you is that you’ve broken into my apartment, have stolen back a lot of art pieces and seem to know a lot about a lot. Can you give me any rational reason why I would trust you, an obvious criminal? Or why I would tell you anything at all?”

“Your life is in danger.”

The stark statement hung between us. I found myself mentally writing a few bars of the third movement of Mozart’s Piano Concerto No. 5 in D major. I would not allow any more shocking statements, photos or bits of information to steal my control. After a few short bars I asked, “In danger from whom?”

“You’re not the only one who cannot reveal information. There are also things that I cannot tell you. We will have to get to know each other better for that kind of trust.”

“That’s not going to happen.”

“What? Getting to know each other or trusting each other?” His smile was quick. A sober expression took over his face. “If you are looking into the murder of that girl who hid a piece of the Gauguin, you need to be very careful of any and all association with the EDA.”

Cold fear constricted my throat. Who was this man? How did he know about the EDA? Manny had said that only himself, Leon, the Chief and the Head of the EDA knew about Phillip’s and my involvement.

“Aha,” Colin said in a knowing tone. “You are working with the EDA.”

“I did not say that.” I couldn’t believe that I had fallen for this amateur test. He had simply thrown that statement out into the air to see how I was going to react and react I did. I might as well have told him everything I knew.

He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees and letting his hands dangle. “I cannot emphasise enough how dangerous this is.”

“How would you know? Does this have anything to do with the artists who got murdered?”

It looked like I had shot him with a stun gun. “How do you know about that?”

This was a job for Phillip with his excellent people and negotiation skills. The two of us were attacking each other with information and successfully shocking each other into admissions that should not be voiced at all. I had to delve very deep into my psychology training to find the right way to deal with this.

“Okay, stop. We are walking in circles and it’s leading nowhere. I don’t owe you any kind of trust since you are the one who entered my home uninvited. If you want me to listen to you or answer any more questions, you will have to tell me your true purpose for being here.” I did not have to try to put severity into my voice and expression. I had never been this serious about anything.

“Fair enough. I suppose lying is not an option since I know that you are an expert at detecting deception.”

I did not move a single muscle in my face. I did, however, want to roll my eyes and raise my upper lip in disgust. He was still stalling, but I knew that I could outwait him.

He breathed a tired chuckle in surrender. “Fine. I came here to find out who you are. I was curious about the person who had uncovered such a well-constructed secret. I also wanted to warn, or scare, you away from this case. But I have changed my mind.”

“Have you now?” I was reading his every muscle movement. Holding on to a poker face was nigh-on impossible. We always gave away clues as to what was going on inside our heads. So far Colin had been truthful. Uncomfortable, but truthful.

“Yes, I think that you are exactly what I need. Before you get upset, let me explain. I don’t have access to law enforcement like you do.” His smile was wry. “For obvious reasons. A lot of bad things have been happening for a long time and someone needs to stop it. Unfortunately, a lot of those bad things are done by people in law enforcement. That is why I think you’re perfect.”

“I’m an outsider.” It was like listening to Manny all over again. I wondered if the thief and the respected EDA deputy chief would find it as amusing as I that they had something in common.

“Exactly. Already you know much more about this than anyone else. I believe that you are the one who could put the pieces together to stop this.” I was surprised to see that he truly believed this. “You already have connected… um… the poets to a lot of artworks. Surely you have found connections between forged works, stolen art and the murders?”

I took my time to answer. “We can both agree that we know things that should not be shared. Why don’t you start by telling me everything that you can share?”

“Just for the record, I’m the only one sharing at the moment. It should show you my willingness to trust you and also the ominous nature of this situation.” He waited for a reaction, but when I didn’t even blink, he just smiled and continued. “Do you know about the EDA connection with these murders?”

It had become clear that Colin knew nothing of Eurocorps’ connection to all this. I thought about all those stolen weapons, but immediately remembered Manny’s frantic warnings to keep this confidential. I still hadn’t decided to trust this thief.

“What connection?” I asked.

“I haven’t figured out all the details.” The
levator labii superioris
muscle on the side of his nose raised his upper lip in disgust. “The connection goes very high. And that is honestly all I know. There are a lot of fragments of information that I am trying to use to come up with a viable theory. About the EDA, I don’t have anything but a long list of coincidences and a healthy dose of suspicion.”

“Are you a conspiracy theorist?”

He burst out in rich laughter and for a moment the stress lines on his face lifted. “I never thought of myself as one. Not until this came along.”

“What makes you suspect the EDA? What are the coincidences that you’re talking about?”

“How many artist deaths have you found?” He yet again countered with a question and I hesitated to answer him. Could I trust a criminal with information that was easily obtainable on the internet? What would Phillip do in a negotiation like this? “Genevieve?”

“Five.” It tore me in pieces to say that one word.

“I know of thirteen. I suppose that you only looked at Western Europe.”

“Thirteen? All of them artists?” I decided not to ask him if he had any knowledge of murders in the last four years. That would reveal the limited scope of my research and the frustrating mystery of why I couldn’t find any more murders in the last four years.

“Some of them amateurs, some professional, but all of them must have some connection other than being murdered.”

“The EDA?” I reminded him.

“Oh yes, the coincidences. I first became aware of the EDA’s presence when a friend of mine disappeared.”

“Your friend was an artist?”

“Yes. It was in 2006. A few weeks later his body was found floating in the Danube river about twenty kilometres outside Budapest.” His voice was controlled, but the
masseter
muscle bulging in his lower jaw spoke of his anger. “At that time there was a large defence meeting held in Budapest with very little publicity. The EDA was present at this meeting. That in itself made me suspicious.”

“But how do you connect the EDA to this? I’m sorry to say this, Colin, but your conclusion has no factual base. It is all total conjecture.”

“I told you it is only my suspicion. It’s just that at four more murders, the EDA also happened to be in the same city.” He looked at his watch and grimaced. “I have to go soon. It’s a pity. I would’ve loved to sit and talk much longer. We have much to discuss. Jenny, I can’t tell you how glad I am that I have found you.”

“Glad?”

“After all these years of leaving anonymous tips at numerous police stations, at last there might be someone who could put a stop to this senseless killing of great talent. None of the other investigators or agencies ever took it to be a real threat. And it was not like I could walk in and try to convince them. At least now I have you.”