Destination Africa

Chapter 1: Globetrotting

Winston-Winslow. Monday, March 24, 2008.

Why does an Egyptologist want to speak with me? Neal pondered that puzzle as he waited for Martine Giron to arrive. Whatever the topic was, he was already hearing the intriguing knock of a new opportunity.

Martine was an art history professor at Columbia University. He'd attended a couple of her courses on his path to obtaining a master's. Since then, he'd had little contact with her aside from brief chats in the hallways.

If this was a university matter, she would have asked him to meet her at her office. Instead, she called Win-Win's main number to request an appointment. He was a little surprised she knew where he worked. When he was her student, she'd been involved in an undercover op, but back then he worked for the FBI. He had a good idea of who the likely source of her information was, and when he met her in the reception area, she confirmed it.

"Sherkov told me about your new position," Martine said. "I was relieved to hear you're still with Interpol Art Crimes."

His doctoral advisor had already assisted on a couple of cases and was familiar with Neal's work on the task force. But this made Neal even more curious to know why Martine had sought himout.

"Is this a museum or a university matter?" he asked as he led her to his office. In addition to her teaching responsibilities, Martine was on the staff of the Metropolitan Museum of Art in the Egyptian department.

"Museum, and it's a subject that requires delicate handling. We'd prefer not to go public with the case if it can be resolved quickly. The Met is familiar with your unorthodox ways of conducting an investigation." The sharp lines on her face softened. "They worked out well in the past. We hope they will again."

Neal doubted Martine was familiar with the thwarted Vermeer theft, but she had helped negotiate permission for a sting to catch Keller that involved a Tutankhamun exhibition. He also remembered how biting her initial criticism was of the idea. If he'd been taking one of her seminars at the time, she might have failed him on the spot. Apparently, she'd loosened up since then.

"Obtaining the museum's authorization wasn't difficult," she continued. "Your work on the task force has made you a trusted advisor."

"So you don't plan to rake me over the coals if I suggest something out of the box?" he joked.

"No, I'll just sic a cursed mummy on you if you mess up."

As they exchanged grins, Neal relished the new standing he had with his professors. Now that he was so far along on his doctorate, he was approaching colleague status.

She scanned his office when they stepped inside. "This reminds me more of an art studio than an investigator's office." Her eyes rested on a montage of images currently on one of his easels.

"I'll take that as a compliment," he said, gesturing for her to take a seat at the work table. His lab stools were a notch above the ones in his university studio. They had padded seats and backs.

She first went over to the easel to study the pictures. Most of them were copies of grainy photos. "You'll need to satisfy my curiosity first." She pointed to one image. "That Caravaggio was looted by the Nazis, wasn't it?"

"Yes, and it's still missing. All the paintings pictured on the easel are."

"I'd read the reports about the plundered masterpieces recovered by Interpol Art Crimes in 2005. Were you involved?"

"That's a safe assumption." Details of how the paintings were discovered were classified but as a known member of the task force, he was on secure ground, and a little extra burnishing of his reputation never hurt when the Met came calling.