All part of the service, I said reassuringly. The police here?
An Inspector Mellor from the Art Squad, Henry said as he led the way across the inner courtyard to the Great Hall, where the Impressionist paintings hung incongruously. He doesnt say much.
We passed through the Hall Porch, whose solid oak door looked like it had taken a few blows from a heavy sledgehammer. At the door of the Great Hall, I put out a hand to delay Henry. So what exactly happened?
Henry rubbed his jaw. The alarm woke me. Just before three, according to the clock. I checked the main panel. It said Hall Porch, Great Hall door, Great Hall and pressure pads. I phoned the police to confirm it wasnt a false alarm, and ran downstairs. When I got to the Hall, there was nobody in sight and the Monet was gone. They must have been in and out again in less than five minutes. He sighed. They obviously knew what they were looking for.
Didnt the beeper on the courtyard security lights waken you? I asked, puzzled.
Henry looked sheepish. I turned the beeper off. Weve been having a bit of a problem with foxes, and I got fed up with being wakened up night after night. I said nothing. I hoped the look on my face said it for me. I know, I know, Henry said. I dont think Inspector Mellors overly impressed either. Shall we?
I followed him into the Hall. It was a surprisingly bright room for the period. It was two stories high, with a whitewashed vaulted ceiling and a gallery for Blondel unplugged. The wall that gave on to the inner courtyard had a couple of feet of wood paneling above floor level, then it was hundreds of tiny leaded panes of glass to a height of about eight feet. The outer walls paneling was about four feet high before it gave way to more windows. I didnt envy the window cleaner. At the far end was a raised dais where Henrys distant ancestors had sat and lorded it over the plebs and railed against the iniquities of the window-tax. It was around the dais that the paintings hung. A tall, thin man was stooped like a crane over the space where the Monet used to be. As we entered, he turned toward us and fixed me with a glum stare.
Henry performed the introductions while Inspector Mellor and I weighed each other up. He looked more patrician than Henry, with a high forehead over a beaky nose and a small, Cupids bow mouth. At his request, I ran him through the security arrangements. He nodded noncommittally as he listened, then said, Not a lot more you could have done, short of having closed-circuit TV
Professional job, yeah? I said.
No doubt about it. They obviously chose their target, cased the place thoroughly, then did a quick in-and-out. No identifiable forensic traces, according to my colleagues who turned up after the event. Mellor looked as depressed as I felt.
Does it put you in mind of anyone in particular? I asked
Mellor shrugged. Ive seen jobs like this, but we havent managed an arrest on any of them yet.
Henry closed his eyes and sighed. Is there any chance of getting my Monet back? he asked wearily.
If Im honest, sir, not a lot. Thieves like this only take what theyve already got a market for, Mellor said. Sooner or later, well get a lucky break and well nail them. It could be on this case. What Id like to do is send a couple of my lads over when your staff are next in. These thieves will have been round the house more than once. Its just possible one of your attendants noticed repeat visitors.
Theyll be in at half past nine on Thursday, Henry said. The house is closed to the public on Mondays, Tuesdays and Wednesdays, excepting Bank Holidays.
Mellor turned away and spent a few minutes studying the Boudin, the Renoir and the two Pisarros that flanked the space where the Monet had been. Personally, he said softly, Id have gone for the Boudin.
Not me. The Monet would have looked much better with my color scheme. But maybe Inspector Mellors living room was blue-based rather than green, cream and peach. While Henry escorted Mellor off the premises, I mooched around the hall, wondering what to do next. Mellors plan to interrogate the staff had disposed of the only idea I had for pursuing any kind of investigation. I slumped in the attendants chair by the door and stared down the hall at the wires sticking out of the ancient paneling where the Monet had been attached to the alarm system and the wall. Inspiration failed to strike; but then, nothing does in this country anymore.
When Henry came back, I forced myself upright and said brightly, Well, Henry, Mellor didnt sound too optimistic about what the forces of law and order can achieve. Looks like its down to me to get your Monet back.
Henry tugged at the lobe of his ear and looked uncomfortable. Is there much point, Kate? he asked. I mean, if the specialists dont know where to start looking, how can you expect to succeed?
Well, Henry, people have a tendency to tell me things they dont necessarily want to share with the police. And that includes insurance companies. I also have more unorthodox sources of information. Im sure I can develop leads the police will never encounter. It was all true. Well, all except the last sentence.
I dont know, Kate. These are professional thieves. Looking at the state of the porch door, theyre clearly quite comfortable with a considerable degree of violence. Im not sure Im entirely happy about you pursuing them, he said dubiously.
Henry, I might only be five foot three, but I can look after myself, I said, trying not to think about the last occasion where Id told the men in my life the same damn lie. The scar on my head was just a distant twinge when I brushed my hair now, but the scar inside went a lot deeper. I hadnt exactly lost my battle; Id just acquired an overdose of wariness.
Besides, I carried on, seeing his look of frank disbelief, youre entitled to the first thirty hours of my time for free, according to your contract.
Ah. Yes. Of course. His reserve was nailed firmly in place again, the eyes locked on the middle distance.
Apart from anything else, me nosing around will convince your insurance company that youre not trying it on, I added.
His eyes narrowed, like a man whos seen a bloody great wave heading straight for his bows. Why should they think that? he said sharply.
It wouldnt be the first time somebodys set up their own burglary for the insurance, I said. It happens all the time round where I live. A frown flickered across Henrys face. Theres nothing you want to tell me, Henry, is there? I added apprehensively. Theres no earthly reason why I should arrange this, he said stiffly. The police and the insurance company are welcome to check the books. Were making a profit here. House admissions are up on last year, the gift shop has increased its turnover by twenty-five percent and the Great Hall is booked for banquets almost every Saturday between now and February. The only thing Im concerned about is that Im due to leave for Australia in three weeks and Id like the matter resolved by then.
Id better get weaving, in that case, I said mildly.
I drove back to Manchester with a lot on my mind. I dont like secrets. Its one of the reasons I became a private eye in the first place. I especially dont like them when theyre ones my client is keeping from me.
2
THE ATRIUM OF FORTISSIMUS INSURANCE TOLD ME ALL I needed to know about where Henrys massive premiums were going. The company had relocated in Manchester from the City, doubtless tempted by the wodges of cash being handed out by various inner-city initiative programs. Theyd opted for a site five minutes walk down Oxford Road from the rather less palatial offices of Mortensen and Brannigan. Handy, wed thought, if they ever needed any freelance investigating, though if they had, it hadnt been our door theyd come knocking on. They probably preferred firms with the same steel-and-glass taste in interior decor, and prices to match.
Like a lot of new office complexes in Manchester, Portissimus had smacked a brand-new modern building behind a grandiose Victorian facade. In their case, theyd acquired the front of what had been a rather grand hotel, its marble and granite buffed to a shine more sparkling than its native century had ever seen. The entrance hall retained some of the original character, but the glassed-in atrium beyond the security desk was one hundred percent fin de quite another siecle. The pair of receptionists had clearly absorbed their customer-care course. Their grooming was immaculate, their smiles would have made a crocodile proud, and the mid-Atlantic twang in their, Good morning, how may I help you? stopped short of making my ears bleed. Needless to say, they were as misleading as the buildings facade. After Id given them my card, asked for Michael Haroun and told them his department, I still had to kick my heels for ten minutes while they ran their manicured fingernails down lists to find Mr. Harouns extension, continued their debriefing on the weekends romantic encounters, rang Mr. Haroun, filled out a visitors pass and told me Mr. Haroun would be waiting for me at the lift.
I emerged on the fifth floor to find theyd been economical with the truth. There was no Mr. Haroun, and no one behind the desk marked Claims Inquiries either. Before I could decide which direction to head in, a door down the hallway opened and someone backed out, saying, And I want to compare those other cases, Karen. Dig out the files, theres a love.
He swiveled round on the balls of his feet and deja vu swept over me. Confused, I just stood and stared as he walked toward me. When he got closer, he held out his hand and said, Ms. Brannigan? Michael Haroun.
For a moment, I was speechless and paralyzed. I must have been gawping like a starving goldfish, for he frowned and said, You are Ms. Brannigan? Then, suspicion appeared in his liquid sloe eyes. Whats the matter? Am I not what you expected? I can assure you, I am head of the claims division.
Power returned to my muscles and I hurriedly reached out and shook his hand. Sorry, I stammered. Yes, I Sorry, youre the spitting image of somebody, I stumbled on. I was just taken aback, thats all.
He gave me that look that told me hed already decided that I was either a racist pig or I didnt have all my chairs at home. His smile was strained as he said, I didnt realize I had a doppelganger. Shall we go through to my office and talk?