“Dr. Reinhart has actually worked with me and the Joint Terrorism Task Force on a previous case, although case isn’t really the right word. It was the attempted Times Square bombing,” said Elizabeth. “He’s too modest to say so, but he’s one of the foremost authorities on the study of abnormal human behavior. His insights have been invaluable for helping us understand the mind of a terrorist.”
The fact that Elizabeth was able to call me modest without breaking character was worthy of an Academy Award.
“Is that what you teach at Yale?” asked Laszlo.
“Yes. I’m a professor of psychology, but I specialize in abnormal human behavior,” I said.
“Dr. Reinhart contacted me after this dinner he had because of something that was said regarding the intermediary who had approached his friend,” explained Elizabeth. “We can’t divulge exactly what it was, but it concerned how the possible transaction for this Monet painting would be structured. Based on Dr. Reinhart’s experience with the work we do at the JTTF, it raised a red flag with him.”
“I’m not sure I follow,” said Laszlo.
“We’re concerned that the proceeds from the sale of this painting will be used to fund terrorism,” said Elizabeth.
That was now my cue.
I let go with a slight cough. It was nothing. Then it became something, one of those “went down the wrong pipe” situations that you can’t control. My coughs were getting louder and louder. It was obvious what I needed.
“Let me get you some water,” said Laszlo, hastily standing.
I nodded. Perfect.
Laszlo walked out of her office and my sudden coughing fit suddenly disappeared.
“What are you doing?” asked Elizabeth. She sounded angry.
“I needed her out of the room for a minute,” I said.
“Why? You’re doing fine.”
“I don’t feel fine. This makes me very uncomfortable. I still don’t know why we can’t tell her the truth.”
“The truth? That a mob boss is the one who actually has their painting? We went over this.”
“We don’t know for sure that Brunetti has it,” I said.
“We know enough to think he does. More important, we know for sure he’ll sell it to the highest bidder, and the State Department doesn’t want that to be the Hungarian government.”
“So we really just lie to them?”
“If it means beating Brunetti to the punch, yes. It’s only a matter of time before he figures out the history of that painting. So we take the Hungarians out of the bidding before the process starts,” she said. “Exactly as I told you.”
“You’re that sure they wouldn’t buy from terrorists?”
“Yes.”
“Why?” I asked.
“Because this meeting is our warning to them. That’s what we’re doing here. Making it very clear there’ll be hell to pay,” she said.
“I hope you’re right.”
“Even if I’m not it’s still the plan. The plan you agreed to.”
“I know.”
“Then stick to it.”
I nodded to Elizabeth. She nodded back.
End of scene.