Pentimento

Chapter 6 - Just some research

Night after night she would keep her eyes closed, imagining every guy she had ever seen trying to figure out why she recognized his eyes. She told the police they looked just like the painting and the young agent in the room with her had written down 'Recognition caused by known painting'. He thought she hadn't actually recognized the man, but because his eyes were similar to a painting, she had imagined she did. But she didn't agree. She had seen those eyes before, not painted by Rembrandt and without a black ski mask. She had seen those eyes before. She was about ninety-five percent sure. Over the years, that number decreased to about three percent. The past few hours though, she started to believe her younger self again. She felt a sense of responsibility grow inside her. She had this information, the least she could do is try to do something with it.

Her first thought was the police station. Maybe they would trust a fifty-year-old more than the teenager she was back then?

"I'm sorry ma'am, the detective on the case has unfortunately passed. We won't be assigning a new one until next year."

She looked at the young man in front of her in disbelief. Not assigning a new one. Could they do such a thing?

"But I have information! I really think I could solve this case."

The clerk looked up and down at her and turned around to whisper to his colleague.

"We will not be disclosing any more information on the case."

"Can I at least see the file of the case?"

"You can request the files pertaining to yourself via the website."

Rose sighed. The clerk looked at the older gentlemen in the queue behind her.

Defeated, she spent an entire day in her hotel room. The article kept staring at her and there wasn't a bone in her body willing to go home.

When, five days later, the police files about her finally came through, she had a hotel room full of library books about art, heists, and art heists. There was also a pile with law books, it had taken her several reads to believe that the Dutch law really allowed thieves to get legal ownership after a period of time had passed.

To her great disdain, the file didn't hold the answers she was hoping for. It only confirmed that her memory was clear. Which was nice, especially after the ordeal with the young police clerk, but not very helpful.

She fell on her hotel bed and stared at the ceiling. The last few days had been exhilarating. Reading about art, learning new things. She felt so alive. Thinking about going back home made her shiver. But there was nothing else to do. Although... No, she told herself. You cannot call up the writer of a random article and ask that complete stranger to help you solve an old art heist. She browsed through Marjorie's website.

She was a British art historian who, as a side hobby, wrote about stolen art. Her website was full of articles about heists from all over the world, often taking each stolen piece and detailing why it was worth getting back. She seemed to do a lot of research and had assisted the police in the UK multiple times.

The picture of her on the right side of the website was bright, she looked into the camera happily, her afro like a crown around her head. She was a little younger than Rose but had so many accomplishments listed on the 'about me' page, that Rose couldn't help but respect her as an equal without even meeting her.

Her eyes wandered over the pages full of art details when she spotted a phone number on the bottom of the page. "You can't," she mumbled, while dialing the number, "you just can't."