The Woman in Blue

Chapter 4: Cat and Mouse

Upper East Side townhouse. September 20, 2004. Monday evening.

Neal quickly composed his expression to a look of guileless surprise as he pulled up a chair to sit across from Klaus. He'd arrived home from his evening class intending to resume his work on the Vermeer forgery. Finding Klaus lying in wait for him in the studio and then to be accused of conning him—that was just rude.

But it also gave him an opening. Opportunities to tweak the Leopard didn't come along very often.

"Have my paint fumes made you delusional?" Neal huffed. "I hope you don't think I'd be dumb enough to con you."

"Not deliberately, perhaps." Klaus looked pointedly at him. "Telling me that your classes are part of some long con you're pulling." He paused to frown. "I know you too well for that. You wouldn't leave a painting at this stage if it weren't for something extremely important. Go ahead and admit it—you're officially in Columbia's graduate school program. And I must say it's highly gratifying to learn that all the effort I spent lecturing you to pursue a degree finally paid off. But why did you try to conceal it from me? It's quite an achievement."

Neal laughed and helped himself to a glass of cognac. "After all the grief you gave me in Geneva, it's not easy to admit you were right and I was wrong. And when I started classes, honestly the whole situation seemed so unreal that it was simpler to think of it as a con. Then, if things fell apart, it wouldn't be such a big deal."

"They're not going to fall apart," Klaus said decisively. "I have absolutely no doubt that you're going to be a brilliant success. Evidently I still need to hammer into your thick skull that I only gave you a hard time because you have so much potential. Of course, back then I was insisting on the Sorbonne. That may have been the wrong milieu. Columbia, on the other hand, is ideal." Klaus's eyes flashed with excitement. "You realize the timing is perfect?"

"How so?"

"Just when I decide to move my operations to New York, you're immersing yourself in the world of New York art. You have to join my crew once more! Your abilities were unparalleled in Europe and now they're only better. This Vermeer you're doing, for instance, is magnificent. I predict it will be your best work to date and you'll only continue to improve. In the States, there will be no stopping us."

"But why are you abandoning Europe? The risks are higher here. Does Chantal want you to relocate?"

"You didn't hear? Chantal and I broke up. It happened a year ago. I suppose there's no way you would have known. It wasn't my call. She was the one who left me."

"I'm very sorry to hear about it." Neal's sympathy was genuine. He liked Chantal. She brought out the compassionate side in Klaus and appealed to his better nature. He wondered if that wasn't the real reason Klaus was moving to New York. "Is there any hope for a reconciliation?"

"I don't think so. She's not the Chantal you remember. She opened a restaurant in Paris and doesn't want to be involved with jobs anymore. That didn't bother me, but she wanted me to settle down, have kids ... I wouldn't do it."

"But I thought you two were made for each other," Neal persisted. "I don't mind telling you I was envious of what you had. And I can see you as a father—you'd be great at it. Perhaps a little too strict, but—"

Wagging his finger at Neal, Klaus interrupted, "Just because I kept you from flaming out, don't think I could do that with my own kid." He shook his head. "I'd be bored to tears if I gave up my life. And I have no interest in bringing little Mansfelds into the world."

"I can understand why you want to leave Europe, but you won't find the States a welcoming environment. The FBI is a formidable adversary. Some of their agents are the toughest I've ever encountered. They're relentless. Trust me, they can make your life miserable. Europe is your playground. Why give it up?"