A Piece of the Action

Chapter 2: All Our Yesterdays

Winston-Winslow. Wednesday, February 20, 2008.

"We located another forgery," Klaus told Neal over the phone. "I know you're not surprised. After discovering a gem in the Louvre collection had been switched, we were both convinced it wasn't the sole example. But I had the devil of a time convincing the gemologists at the French National Museum of Natural History to check."

Klaus's call came through shortly after Neal arrived at work. It was early afternoon in Paris. If anyone needed proof of the necessity of the Red Diamonds con, this was it. "Which gem was it?" Neal already suspected he knew.

"Only the most valuable piece in their collection—the Grand Sapphire of Louis XIV."

Nodding at the confirmation, Neal asked "Do they have any idea when the switch was made?"

"We had a bit of luck there. The sapphire had undergone a thorough analysis two years ago. That puts the theft at approximately the same time as the McNally Solitaire. We were alerted this morning. Marcel has already contacted John Hobhouse in London."

Marcel Jauffret was Klaus's handler as well as the French member of Interpol Art Crimes. Last year Klaus negotiated his release into a work-release program under Marcel's supervision. The relationship had blossomed into a true friendship with their styles complementing each other well.

"Does the Museum employ the same security software as the Louvre?" Neal asked.

"No, we couldn't persuade them to upgrade their software. I don't expect we'll have any problem convincing them now."

Neal had considered bringing Klaus and Marcel in on the Red Diamonds con but so far their services weren't required. As a general rule the fewer who knew about a con, the better. But his inner voice was already insisting that Klaus's special talents could come in handy.

"I also have good news to report," Klaus continued, unaware of Neal's inner debate. "Marcel approved my proposal!"

"Congratulations! Did he agree to my participation?"

"That was never in doubt, especially since I have you to thank for the idea."

"I didn't suggest this," Neal protested.

"I'll grant you had an intermediary."

"I'm not following you."

"Hey, you're not the only one who holds conversations with paintings. A certain Cubist work wouldn't let me rest until I made the offer. That violin was haunting my dreams."

Klaus didn't name the painting, but he could only be talking about one work—Braque's Violin and Candlestick. Klaus was calling from his office at police headquarters. He and Neal worked on the assumption that all of Klaus's conversations were recorded. The convoluted history of the Cubist work was largely still a secret. For months, it had haunted Neal's dreams as well. At the time he'd suspected it was a curse, but thanks to it, they'd discovered a cache of masterpieces plundered by the Nazis.

* * * * *

Peter stopped in the hallway outside Neal's office. The door was open and he could hear Neal speaking French, meaning he was probably on the phone. Peter's beginner's level knowledge of the language prevented him from understanding anything.

It wasn't uncommon to hear Neal speaking a foreign language, particularly French, German, and Italian. His job with Interpol Art Crimes required frequent consultations with his fellow members. Peter was gradually picking up a smattering of the languages—if only to identify them.

Neal waved him inside while switching to German on the phone. That meant he was most likely speaking with Klaus. The two usually spoke French to make it easier for any police agent monitoring the call, but a few expressions in German occasionally snuck in.