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“OOH! CUPCAKES.” FRANCINE’S smile widened when Bree opened the box and offered it to her. She took one with chocolate icing. “We are so going to be friends.”
Bree’s laughter was genuine and loud. She turned to me, but stopped when I shook my head. I didn’t want a cupcake. She put the box on the low table in the centre of the sofas and sat down on the only empty sofa, glancing around.
“Phillip is in his room.” Manny glowered at the box, then at her. “What are you doing here?”
“Your warm hospitality must be such a boon when you’re building rapport with people.” Her sardonic expression alerted me to her sarcasm. I made a note to reconsider all her statements before I took them literally. She seemed to be prone to overuse irony. “You’ll be pleased to know that I come bearing tides of joy.”
The door to Phillip’s room opened and Bree’s eyes immediately widened in recognition, her dilated pupils an indication of her pleasure to see Phillip again.
Phillip’s reaction mirrored hers. His step faltered, then he walked towards her. “I’m glad to see you again, Bree.”
She smiled and nodded at the box. “I brought cupcakes.”
Phillip sat down next to her. “I heard you saying that you have good news for us.”
“Indeed.” She glanced at Vinnie and Daniel still standing by the door, their postures more relaxed. Her eyes rested on Daniel. “Hi! I’m Bree. Who are you?”
“Daniel Cassel.” His smile was small, but genuine. “I’m Strasbourg police.”
“Aha. Okay. Want a cupcake?” She pointed at the box, then shrugged when Daniel shook his head. She leaned forward, took a pink cupcake and looked at Manny. “I had a breakthrough with a source. Right now I’m waiting for a call from him to give me a time and place for a meeting. I thought you might like to join me.” She took a large bite from the sweet cake.
“What meeting?” I hated it when people gave incomplete information, whether it was to be cryptic or merely negligent. “With whom? About what?”
Bree smiled at me, not offended at my inpatient tone. She inhaled to speak, but waited when Colin came in from our bedroom.
Colin blinked when he saw her. “Bree. How are you?”
She looked at Vinnie, then at the kitchenette, then back at Colin. “Parched. Dying of thirst. Desert-dry.”
“Bloody hell.” Manny pointed his finger at Vinnie when the latter turned to the kitchenette. “Don’t you dare. She needs to speak.”
Bree put her cupcake down, grabbed her throat and uttered a dramatic and fake cough. “Water. Water.”
Vinnie tried unsuccessfully to hide his smile as he walked to the kitchenette. “Why don’t I make us all some coffee?”
Bree smiled warmly at Vinnie, picked up her cupcake and turned to look at me, glancing at Colin sitting down next to her. Her expression sobered. “I arranged a meeting with Karel Maslák.”
Colin froze for a second, then frowned. “Karel retired more than seven years ago.”
“Yes, but the relationships he’d built over the last five and a half decades have not disappeared.” She shifted on the sofa to fully look at Colin as she took another bite. After a few seconds of evaluation while she chewed, she nodded as if to herself. “You might know that he keeps in touch with his most trusted business acquaintances.”
“Who the bloody hell is this Carl?” Manny demanded. “And how do you know anything about him?”
Bree turned back in her seat to look at Manny. “Part of my job as an investigative journalist has always been to do in-depth research. If I want to write an article about art being used as currency in the crime, especially the drug-world, I need to know all the players. That includes people who are working in the light.”
Colin nodded. “Karel is a legend in the art industry. You might not get art thieves or fences to talk to you, but he loves to share his amazing stories.”
Her fleeting pout caught my attention. “He didn’t want to share with you?”
“Apparently, he doesn’t like being interviewed for articles. He told my assistant he was misquoted in an article in 1976 and since then he refused to speak to journalists.” She made a sound of derision. “Talk about throwing the baby out with the bathwater.” She pushed the last of the cupcake in her mouth.
I ignored her last statement. “If he refuses to speak to journalists, how did you get him to agree to meet with you?”
“Oh, bloody hell.” Manny slumped deeper into the sofa. “What have you done?”
“What any respectable journalist would do.” She raised one shoulder and put the empty cupcake paper on the coffee table. “I told him I was doing research for my master’s thesis about the art industry and wanted to interview a legend.”
“How did you know it would work?” Vinnie put a tray of coffee mugs on the coffee table.
“Research.” She thanked Vinnie for saving her from dying of thirst and took a mug. “One of the art gallery owners talked about what an amazing fountain of information Karel would be and that he loved talking about the historic deals he’d been part of. I got the impression he has quite an ego.”
Colin nodded. “Oh, he definitely loves telling stories. I’ve only met him three times and each time he thrived on people listening to his anecdotes. I must add though that in all three of those occasions he blew me away with his incredible insight. Someone told me that Karel is considered an encyclopaedia for art deals in Western Europe. Those three meetings made me agree.”
“Then you should go with Gabriella.” Manny’s lips twitched when Bree groaned. “It is your name, right?”
“Only when I’ve done something bad.” She laughed when Manny just stared at her. “I was hoping I could take your art expert.”
“You were hoping to take Phillip.” It had been clear in her quick glance towards Phillip and regret when she looked at Colin.
She turned to me. “Can I ever lie to you?”
“Yes, you can.”
She laughed. “Okay, but can I do this and you won’t see it?”
“It’s possible, but not probable.”
“Well then.” She looked at Phillip. “Would you consider coming?”
Phillip shook his head. “This is not my expertise. Colin is far more qualified than me to go to that meeting.”
“And he already has a previous relationship with Karel.” I thought about what she’d told us. “But Karel is expecting a student to interview him.”
“Yeah, I was kind of planning an ambush.” She didn’t look contrite, even though her tone implied it. “I’ve done a few of those in the past and the honest reactions might have been hostile, but it always got me what I needed and often more.”
I didn’t like this confrontational approach to glean information from someone. I knew it was a style that worked, but I preferred something more professional.
“Would you mind horribly if I take the lead on this?” Colin’s question was phrased in a way different to his usual manner of speech. “I might have an idea that would make Karel more amenable to sharing with us.”
“Sure.” Her answer was immediate. “I’m not one of those who always need to take the lead. I need to get the job done—which means getting as much information as quickly as possible.”
“Then it’s done.” Manny looked at me. “You’re also going, Doc.”
“Colin is more than competent.” I stopped when he raised his palm to stop me.
“I know, Doc. But I want you to see the things us mere mortals can’t. And don’t even think about arguing with me right now. I still have a headache from yesterday’s débacle.”
Bree’s phone rang and I swallowed my response to Manny’s statements. She swiped her phone’s screen. “Hello? Yes, sir... That would be my pleasure... In half an hour?” She looked at us and Colin nodded. “Not a problem at all. Sir, I wonder if it would be okay if I can bring my professor and her husband to meet you as well. They were curious when I told them I would meet you... No? Fantastic. We’ll see you soon.”
“I’m not your professor.” Horror filled me. “I cannot pretend to be someone I’m not.”
“Oh.” Her eyes widened, then she tilted her head. “You are a doctor, right?”
“Yes. Not a professor.”
“Then I’ll say I consider you my mentor.” She leaned towards me, her face open for me to read. “Which, in all honesty, I would be so honoured. But we can say that I mentioned to you that I was going to speak to Karel and your husband overheard. He’s the one insisting on coming with, because he’d met Karel before.” She looked at Colin. “I have a feeling you will be okay with that deception?”
Colin took my hand. “Want to be married for a few hours?”
“No.” My immediate reaction elicited snorts of laughter and shock on Bree’s face. She took another cupcake. A white one.
I didn’t like any of this. I had not mastered the diplomatic deceptions, exaggerations and politenesses neurotypicals employed in everyday communication. The few times I’d had to engage in such activities had been most trying.
Colin kissed the back of my hand. “Do you want us to stay? Bree can reschedule or we can find a different way.”
I considered this. Finding Antonin as soon as possible would greatly aid us in having a better understanding of Shahab’s art trade here in Prague. He might even give us insight into Shahab’s motivation or his end goal. Or why Shahab had tried to kill him. I sighed deeply. “No. I’ll do this.”
“Then we’d better get going.” Bree got up. “It’s a good twenty minutes to drive to his house.”
“Vin?” Colin also got up. “Dan?”
Daniel was still standing at the door. “I’ll pick Ivan up and meet you there.”
“I’ll take the old man with me.” Vinnie looked at me. “We’ve got your back, Jen-girl.”
“I know.” And I understood the meaning of his words in all its nuances. I truly trusted Vinnie to protect me, not just physically, but in all ways. He was a good friend.
It took us eighteen minutes to reach Karel Maslák’s house. Colin parked his SUV in a clearly affluent street. The only other vehicles here were in a price class not within reach for the average wage earner. Not even the above-average wage earner.
We were parked across from a house with large tinted windows. A small balcony led from the top floor to overlook the greenery on our side of the street. It was quiet and peaceful here.
“Give me a minute.” Colin opened the back of the SUV and took out a small case he always kept there. Four minutes later, a thin moustache rested on his upper lip, his dark hair now had blond streaks in it and was combed tightly against his skull to the side. The hazel contact lenses and wire-frame glasses completed the transformation. He looked the same, yet very different. He took out a wooden walking stick and leaned heavily on it. “Let’s go.”
“Colour me impressed.” Bree nodded in admiration. “Maybe I should make you my mentor.”
“If you hadn’t used a feminine pronoun, it would’ve been much better. Karel met me as Professor John Sandford, a scholar of Roman antiquities from Oxford University.” He looked at me. “We’ll make this work, love.”
I had used the drive here to mentally prepare myself for the deception that was about to ensue. I didn’t feel ready for it, but knowing all the micro-expressions and nonverbal cues that revealed untruthfulness was a tool I could use to deceive.
Colin’s gait looked painful as he followed Bree to the front door two houses down from where we’d parked. He looked down at the pavement. “Don’t look, but Daniel and Ivan just parked up ahead. Millard and Vinnie parked two cars behind us and I think they’re already somewhere close. We’re safe.”
“I’m not concerned about my physical safety.” Maybe I should’ve been, but it was the least of my concerns. “I need to know that you’ll do most of the communication.”
“Absolutely.” Colin’s smile was genuine. “It won’t be hard to get Karel to chat about his exploits in the sixties, seventies and eighties. I’ll make sure to lead the conversation.” He looked over at Bree. “You’re still good with that?”
“Completely, Professor Sandford.” She knocked on the front door, then rang the doorbell. “I’m here to listen and learn.”
The door opened before either of us could reply. An elegantly dressed older man swung the door wider and smiled. “Bree?”
“Mister Maslák, it is an incredible honour to meet you.” She stepped to the side. “This is my mentor, Doctor Genevieve Lenard.”
“And I am her husband Professor John Sandford.” Colin’s Received Pronunciation was often referred to as posh, heard from those in the higher echelons of British society. It grated on my mind.
“I know you.” Karel Maslák stared at Colin. “We met in 2001 at the Ancient Rome exhibition.”
“In London. I remember.” Colin shifted to lean more on his walking stick. “I was impressed by your memory then and even more so now. It’s an honour, sir.”
“Well, come in, come in.” He stepped away from the door and waved us inside.
I was tempted to look back into the street to reassure myself of Vinnie, Manny, Daniel and Ivan’s presence, but managed to simply nod and follow Colin into the foyer of the house. Colin’s eyes widened and his smile was genuine as he walked to the antique wall unit facing the front door. His attention was wholly on a bronze sculpture of a walking man. “Not my field of expertise, but I’d recognise an Alberto Giacometti sculpture anywhere. It’s breathtaking.”
“One of the few pieces I’ve collected over the years.” Karel closed the front door and walked to join Colin. “Oh, I’m lying. I’ve lived a life of indulging myself by collecting many pieces. Let’s go into the salon. My most valued artworks are there.”
Karel Maslák’s English was heavily accented, but spoken with ease. He walked into a large room to the left of the foyer and immediately started pointing out different artworks to Colin. Bree turned to me and rolled her eyes before she followed them into the room.
It was interesting to watch this older man strive to impress Colin. Or rather the alias Colin used—Professor John Sandford, who had been a seventeenth-century English clergyman and academic as well as a neo-Latin poet.
For a man who had a well-known reputation, one could easily assume Karel Maslák would be completely confident in his achievements. Yet he was regaling us with stories of how each piece was obtained, pausing frequently and only continuing once Colin exclaimed wonder and awe.
“And this Matisse I got from a countess in Poland. Mind you, her title was defunct, but she still referred to herself as a countess.” He pulled at the lapels of his tailored blazer. “I spent a Christmas Eve in her house. The décor was horrid. It looked like a cream monster had vomited all over the place. Puffy cream curtains, cream and gold wallpaper, so many embroidered cream cushions there was hardly space to sit.” He pointed at the leather wingback chairs placed to face the stone fireplace and waited for us to sit. “Dinner was a hoody-doo affair. The Italian ambassador was there as well as some famous film director and some other people. She spent the whole evening talking about herself, telling us about her four marriages. The last one was to a world-famous opera singer who had left her a fortune and a scandal.”
He leaned forward. “Three children born out of wedlock, while he was married to the countess.” He straightened and looked back at the colourful painting. “I was just going through my own divorce at the time and could really empathise with her. I think that is why she sold me this Matisse for such a good price. Or maybe it was because her husband had bought this for her after she found him kissing a mezzo-soprano in their kitchen.”
Now I understood his reputation. The animation with which he talked and his ability to engage with us made him a great storyteller. But if all his stories were like the one he’d just told, I could not bear to spend unnecessary time with him. Francine would love hearing such gossip. Bree did. Her inability to sit still and the quick swipe of her tongue over her lips was a clear giveaway of her anticipation for the next anecdote.
Colin also enjoyed it. The pleasure on his face was sincere and plain to see. He asked Karel about the Degas painting hanging above the fireplace and sat back to enjoy the story. I didn’t enjoy it. It did, however, give me more than sufficient time to create a baseline for Karel’s nonverbal communication and better understand the nuances of his discourse.
“I’m talking too much again.” Karel chuckled, then looked at Bree. “You said you wanted to ask me questions.”
“I did, but I think I’ll leave it to Professor Sandford.”
Karel shifted slightly back and put one arm across his body. He was closing up. “What is this really about?”
“You are indeed as observant as your reputation tells us.” Colin fiddled with the copper handle of his walking stick. “I had ulterior motives coming here. After the amazing life you’ve lived in the art world, I know that you have contacts everywhere. I also think I am right to assume that you keep tabs on everything and everyone noteworthy.”
“Go on.” Karel rested both elbows on the arms of his chair, displaying his growing confidence.
“I need to find Antonin Korn.”
“Go to his gallery.”
“He’s not there.” Colin leaned forward and lowered his head as if to impart a secret. “This is a matter of utmost importance, one I wish I could tell you about, but the confidentiality agreement with the other party and my lawyer’s advice prevents me from sharing. For now.”
Karel’s eyes widened slightly, then he nodded once in understand of Colin’s unspoken message. It was now clear to me that this man lived for information few others had. “Antonin is very much like the countess’ baritone husband.”
“He’s with a lover?”
Karel’s shrug was unsuccessfully nonchalant. “I know that opera singers like visiting historic villages around Prague when they’re here. There is one such village. Its history of wealth and what is now perceived as horror draws hundreds of thousands of tourists every year. People love the morbid chandeliers and Halloween-type abbey. You might want to visit it yourself. It’s beautiful in spring.”
“That’s very kind of you, Karel.” Colin rested his hand on his chest. “It would be a privilege to visit you in the future to hear more of your amazing adventures. And to tell you how we enjoyed our visit to the villages surrounding Prague.”
Karel studied Colin for a few seconds, then got up. “I would like that. Very much.”
It took us eleven minutes to leave Karel Maslák’s house. He told Colin three more stories and warmed up to Bree when she laughed at his humour. He looked at me only twice. Neither time was with cordiality. I didn’t care.
As soon as we left the house, Colin shook his head. “Wait until we’re in the car.”
It was hard. I had many questions. Colin walked with difficulty to the SUV and got in after he put his walking stick in the back. As soon as he closed his door, he turned to me, but frowned when I leaned away from him.
I pointed at his face. “Take off the moustache.”
He laughed and carefully removed this part of his disguise. He took off the glasses, removed the contact lenses and pushed his fingers through his hair a few times. The colour was still not right, but it looked more like his usual style. I nodded. “Do you know to which village he was referring?”
“Kutná Hora.” Colin took out his phone. “Let’s get a quick open line with everyone.” He phoned Francine and within a minute she’d put all of us on a conference call. “Okay everyone, I’ll give a detailed account of our meeting with Karel later, but for now I need Francine and Ivan to find out who Antonin’s lover is and where she lives in Kutná Hora.”
“Is Korn there?” Manny asked.
“Karel thinks so,” Colin said. “He didn’t come out and say it in so many words, but his hints were quite clear.”
“Doc?”
I considered my answer for a moment. “Karel was being cryptic. His nonverbal communication was truthful, but his words unclear.”
“What the hell does that mean?”
“May I?” Colin waited until I nodded. “I think Karel doesn’t like Antonin. That is my gut feeling without any real evidence. But what I’m one hundred percent sure of is that Karel wants more gossip stories to tell. And it would be even better for him if he could be the star of that story. He quickly gave me hints as to Antonin’s whereabouts when I said I would be back to tell him about it. I swear he got stars in his eyes the moment I said that.”
“Francine?” I preferred to hear from Francine rather than pontificate about the silly star expression. “Do you have anything yet?”
“One... mo... yes!” Her bracelets jingled through the speakers. She must’ve thrown her hands up in victory. “Antonin’s company records show that he paid a salary to a Hana Zonová for three years as a gallery assistant. She resigned last year and moved to Kutná Hora. Since then her bank records show monthly payments from Antonin’s private bank account. And she also owns a house in the village. That also magically appeared in her name last year.”
“Okay, I’ll get the right legal paperwork for us to go there.” Ivan paused. “Francine, how did you get access to Hana Zonová’s bank records?”
“Hello? Hello? Oh, darn it! We have a bad connection. I have to go.” A click sounded.
Vinnie’s chuckle was accompanied by Manny’s swearing. “Bloody hell. Ivan, I apologise. We’ll make this right.”
“Please don’t.” Ivan’s tone confused me. I wished I could see his face to determine whether he was annoyed or amused. “I’ll make sure everything is done legally.”
“What now, oh fearless leader?” Colin asked.
“Bugger off, Frey.” Manny was silent for a moment. “Ivan, how soon can you get your paperwork done?”
“My team will do it. It should be ready by the time we reach Kutná Hora.”
“Then this is what we are doing, Frey.” Manny mumbled an insult which had Vinnie chuckling again.
“Love you too, Millard.” Colin ended the call and started his SUV.
