Collection (17 page)

“Let me see.” She moved to the second slot and peered in, then she put her hand where a painting should be and searched the sides and the bottom. “This is not good.”

“Hannah, where else could it be?”

“You know as well as I do that if the inventory says it's here, it's here.”

“But, it's not here.”

“Lucien, I don't know where it is! Hannah looked like she might panic and Lucien tried to think of what to do next.

“You still have access to the mainframe, right?”

“Yes, of course. I didn't get into that much trouble.”

“We're going upstairs. You're going to help me track this thing down.

20

LUCIEN AND HANNAH WERE ABLE
to locate the inventory files without much trouble, but they just confirmed the same location that Franka had written down. With the painting missing and Franka gone for the next few hours at least, he had to find out more about where the painting could be. Each acquisition had a file telling what work was done on it from its date of procurement. The Vermeer file was detailed, but the last entry indicated it had been put into storage in the vault. The entry prior to that said it had been taken out of storage for copy. It was this copy that Lucien had sold to Raleigh Harris.

“Hannah, I know I haven't visited for a while, but is everyone observing handling protocol?”

“Of course, two people all the time. It's impossible to enter or exit the vault with just one person's access palm print and key. If anyone tries, the alarm sounds in all the rooms.”

“How about inventory? Is everyone signing out the objects as they take them in and bring them out?”

“Two people sign the logs for each piece. You know as well as I do that's for accuracy in the records, not for security.”

“So, two people would have to take it out and not record it, right?”

“My God, you think one of us could have taken it?” She looked aghast.

“Who else, Hannah? Look, I'm talking through this with you to make sure I'm not jumping to any conclusions, but it doesn't look good.”

“We've never had an internal theft, not in 700 years. Everyone is taught from birth that the family keeps the secret. Our little boys die
terribly, Lucien. It's not enough that we suffer the loss. We're also suspected of being murderers and witches. The Old World knew what to do with witches. How many of us have been killed for the ignorance of the world? Our existence is unnatural. We are cursed. We can only trust one another. There's got to be another explanation for what's happened.”

“I would be delighted to hear another theory.”

“Maybe someone tunneled in? Circumvented the electronic security measures? You do it all the time with other security systems. Our vault is like any other, it's not foolproof.”

“Or, maybe the simplest explanation is the correct one? Two people, our people, strolled out of that vault with a painting worth millions of dollars. Now, they are threatening our operation and our existence by making additional copies and selling them. It's only a matter of time before people start asking questions. What if there are other paintings missing? We need to do a full inventory.”

“Now? Franka is still out with the University man.”

“Now. I want everyone down there working. Wake up the night owls if you have to.

21

THEY WERE HALFWAY THROUGH
the inventory when Jonquil approached Lucien. Lucien was getting tired of cross-referencing the inventory with the physical verification process. They'd worked in teams to make it easier and to make sure nobody was trying to fudge the results. It was ridiculous. The teams were obviously uncomfortable with the concept of watching their sisters with suspicion. Jonquil had gone upstairs to answer the phones for Montreaux while everybody else was downstairs. She was one of the younger members of the Geneva house at twenty-five years old.

“Jonnie, what is it? Did you find something?”

“No, not yet. I'm sure we will. I was just wondering if you'd heard from Frankayet?”

“No, I've left messages on her cell phone, but she doesn't answer. Is she dating the University collection representative? Can we reach her at his place?”

“You wouldn't be saying that if you'd met the man. He's ninety years old if he's a day. I don't think he, you know, does
that
anymore.”

“Okay, I get it. Does she often go out all night?”

“Absolutely not, that's why I was asking you. She never breaks curfew, even though she could and nobody would question her. That's why she came down so hard on Hannah for staying over at her new girlfriend's place without prior approval. She should be back by now, Lucien. This isn't right. I know I'm the youngest person in the house, but you once told us that we each had a voice, that the Family listened to all. I think it's possible Franka's involved in the painting disappearing.”

Lucien rubbed his eyes and considered her words. He'd made this possible. An atmosphere of paranoia and finger pointing. It was enough to make his stomach roil. He had to maintain a cool head and keep to a rational train of thought. That was his only way to figure this problem out, but it was getting more difficult by the minute. He just wasn't sure what was a reasonable assumption anymore.

“Jonquil, you don't know that. Franka has dedicated her life to this house and the family. Just because she's gone right now doesn't mean she's involved.”

“I'm not saying she did it on purpose. Maybe she's been forced to do something she shouldn't have. She's the only one who could have figured out how to get that painting out of this vault without anyone noticing. Nothing gets past her, if it was someone else, she would have caught them in the act. Nobody in this house has ever questioned if
she
was hiding something from us.”

“I think you're being a little premature.”

“If I'm not, we're losing valuable time and whomever is responsible is probably getting away.”

Lucien looked at Jonquil. She was concerned and probably bored with answering phones while the rest of them scurried around. It wouldn't hurt to cover all the bases.

“Do me a favor then, track her car and her cell phone using the GPS transponders. Hopefully she's just been delayed for some reason, and she'll forgive the intrusion. Jonnie, I hope you're wrong. But, if she is involved, I'm sure it's not by her choice.”

22

WHEN JANE WOKE UP
she didn't know where she was. She looked around the dim room for a few minutes before she remembered that she was enjoying her first trip outside the country - without an armed escort courtesy of Raleigh Harris, that is. Unfortunately she was also trying to prevent a madman from killing her family. So, it was good news and bad news. Her eyes burned, and she was still fighting the effects of a short-notice overnight transcontinental flight. She got dressed in slow motion, but her stomach had already acclimated and growled loudly. In a house this big, there had to be a kitchen and food, but she had no idea where to look for it. The house was quiet and by the clock in her room, it was about seven o'clock in the evening in Geneva. The watch on her wrist told her it was one o'clock in the afternoon in Atlanta. Her body was confused.

She left her room and tried to find her way back to the foyer. Once there, she figured she could try to find someone who could tell her where the kitchen was. Within five minutes, Jane was hopelessly lost and completely confused. All the hallways looked the same with rows of identical doors. She started to sweat from anxiety. Nothing was going right. Finally, she found an open door. Lucien was sitting at the lone desk in a very fancy modern office. Her search for the kitchen could wait until she got a proper status report on the painting.

“Thank God, I thought I was lost forever!”

Jane ambled over to where he was sitting and saw a peculiar look on his face. Something was wrong. Jane hoped it wasn't the painting. She tried to keep her voice upbeat.

“Did you see it? Are we good to go?”

“There's a problem. It wasn't where it should be, but we're tracking it down.”

If there was one thing she didn't like, it was being jerked around.

“You said it was here! Don't mess around, Lucien, do you know where it is?”

“No, I don't know.”

Jane started to hyperventilate.

“We're looking for it. I just need some time to figure out who took it.”

“Who is ‘we' and how are you going to find it?”

He offered her a seat and she shook her head. Lucien stood to speak to her as Jane refused to sit down.

“There's about twenty women in this house who perform the day-to-day tasks of our business. They make the copies and handle the legitimate restoration work. We've been working out when it went missing so that we can try to find who took it.”

“Was it stolen?”

“Most likely, yes.”

“Where was it?”

“Jane, I would rather not tell you the details of where we keep our valuables.”

“I'm not going to steal the family silver! You are going to tell me anything I want to know because it's my mom, and my sister, and her husband and kids in Raleigh's sights. I am not going to let you tell me what I can and can't do. Not this time. Where was it?”

Lucien licked his lips contemplatively. This was the problem with new people. They didn't know what they were getting into.

“It was in a vault under the house.”

She finally sat down across from him.

“Who can get into the vault? You?” He shook his head.

“It takes two people with access. Not all of the women have access, only the ten most senior.”

“What about burglars?”

“Not possible. I designed the security system myself. There is no way someone could have broken in and gotten out without triggering the alarm and alerting everyone in this house.”

“Let me talk to the ten women who had access.”

“What good would that do?”

“I'll just ask them if they took it.” Lucien sat down also and looked at her. Now he was angry, but he tried to calm his voice given that they always seemed to end up in a screaming match.

“I am not going to interrogate them based on your intuition.”

“Why not, they work for you, right? They've got to understand that breaking the law will subject them to the occasional interrogation. I'll be a lot quicker about it than the usual cop. All I have to do is ask them if they did it or not. If you don't believe me, fine; there's no harm in trying.”

“They are not employees, Jane. I can't insult them like that. I can't make them feel like they're under suspicion, they're not criminals. They're my…friends… and they've already given up so much. You can't understand.” He went back to staring at the computer screen.

“According to what you've told me, at least two of them are pretty sick of whatever you've got going on here. They're not giving up anything by stealing your painting. I think you can risk possibly, maybe upsetting your little hen house in order to certainly, definitely save my family.”

Lucien knew the benefits of her gift, but he certainly didn't want it being used on his family. He was certain they didn't have anything to hide, besides the illegal stuff Jane already knew about. If he placated her by bringing her to meet them, then maybe he would get a break from the shrill accusations she was hurling his way. He was spending more time placating people than he was finding that damn painting.

“Fine. You can come with me, but you will not be rude to these women, and I will do the talking.”

“All you have to do is ask the right questions. I can handle the rest.

23

JANE OBSERVED THE WOMEN
assembled in the room as they found their seats around the table. They ranged in age from mid-fifties to late seventies. It was hard for Jane to imagine that one or more of these women might be responsible for stealing a painting. They looked like a quilting bee, not a line up. Lucien stood as the last of them took her seat near the fireplace so she “wouldn't catch a draft.” It was very possible the worst thing any of these women had done was cheat at the Bingo hall.

“Thank you all for coming in after such a long night. As you know, we're missing a Vermeer that has gained us some undesired attention from a dissatisfied customer. Last night's inventory of the vault has shown that nothing else is missing, but has also confirmed that the Vermeer was not misplaced. It's gone. The client will hurt Jane's family if I don't bring the real painting to him, so we need to find it. Franka has not returned from her dinner last night. We were able to contact the faculty member she said she was meeting with, and he said she never showed up at the restaurant. Her car was found abandoned at the Geneva Cornavin Train Station, and her cell phone was inside. I've released everybody else, and now we've got to figure out what to do next.”

Jane absorbed that information. Franka was obviously the culprit. She must have fled when Lucien arrived. That still left an accomplice. One of these grandmas must have helped her. The woman next to Jane spoke. She was one of the younger ones with curly, honey colored hair and fashionable glasses.

“I've contacted Eva Lauter. She's working with the Geneva police
now and could get us the CCTV footage of the train station. We could see if someone took Franka or if she boarded a train. It will take her a while to look through all of the footage. I hate to say it, but if Franka wanted to disappear we will never find her. She's too smart. She knows how to get what she wants, and she can lie very well to get it. That University man last night probably would have given her their Van Gogh without any paperwork, and she's helped steal more than a few.”

“Thank you Celine. Eva's help is greatly appreciated, and her discretion is valued.”

“Don't worry Lucien, she will be careful.”

“Now, as for the painting, Franka didn't have the chance to take anything with her when she left. I saw her and all she had was a purse. Unless the painting was in her car, she doesn't have it. I need to know more about who had contact with the Vermeer in the last two years or so. We can assume it was the genuine painting when it was copied. At some point after that, it was taken. Who painted the copy?”