Henry Wood: Time and Again: (24 page)

“No, he was working late, so I had to eat alone.” She donned a pouty face.

Francis leaned forward, “Delighted to meet you…”

“Oh sorry, this is Katarina; she is a friend of Henry’s from way back.”

Francis smiled and shook her hand.

“It is nice to meet you, too. So how does this place rate?”

Francis didn’t know if he should tell the truth about not actually being out reviewing, so he just leaned back, and dabbed his mouth with a napkin. “If you were to guess, based upon my face, what would you say?” He smiled broadly.

“I would say it gets an A. I know I enjoyed myself. Feel free to quote me on that.” She spoke easily and with incredible charm. Mike noticed Patrick leaving and when he walked past the window, so did Katarina.

“Would you like to join us for a cup of coffee?” Mike said, suspecting she would decline.

“Thank you, Mike, but I have to be going.”

When Katarina walked past the window she gave them a wave. They both waved back. She wore the black trench coat.

Chapter Fifty-Three

The Professor, Bobby, and Henry were eating and listening to Celine tell a story from one summer in the Poconos. Henry had bought take out for everyone. It was a bit of unwinding he sorely needed. Mike walked in just as Celine was saying, “…and though I never found my swimsuit, it was worth it, even though the nickname stuck.”

“Henry, could I talk to you outside?”

The ominous tone in his voice made everyone stop eating and look at Mike and then Henry. “Sure Mike, let’s take a walk.”

As they closed the office door, there was a collective shrug and they heard Celine ask the professor, “So Prof, you ever have a nickname?”

Henry and Mike walked down the hall and stopped at the other end. “What is it Mike?”

“I tried to get a look in the restaurant, but had an unexpected turn.”

“Oh?”

“Francis was there, in the window, about to have dinner. He sort of insisted I join him. I don’t think Patrick noticed me. He ate alone and I never saw anyone approach his table, aside from the waiter.”

“Interesting…but why so secretive?"

“The person in the trench coat, well I didn’t see them sit down. I didn’t know who it could be, all the other tables were couples or groups, well except one. It was Katarina.”

Henry looked out of the window at the end of the hall, then shook his head, and turned back to Mike. “She’s the Falcon.”

“You knew?!”

“No, but I suspected. I have been avoiding the signs, her returning, our case involving the art underworld, and the way she seemed to to avoid my questions. I let myself get drawn in. Mickey once told me, ’Never let Dames fog your mind.’ I didn’t listen. But I'm now.” His voice was low and sad, but resolved. He accepted what he had suspected and was ready to move on.

“Does this mean…”

“I'm not ready to jump to that conclusion, but I'm prepared for it to be true.”

“She isn’t working alone.”

“I agree. We should bring everyone up to speed.” Henry turned and walked back to the office.

When they joined the others the professor had just finished his nickname story. Henry sat down behind his desk. Celine jumped up, “We have saved some for you Mike.” Her beaming voice made Henry feel a little less dreadful. “He's eaten. Go ahead, Mike, tell them what you learned.” Henry flipped open his notebook.

***

Across town Katarina flipped up her collar. She had left her hat at the restaurant, as she figured Mike would find it odd, her wearing a fedora. Another five minutes and Patrick would pick her up for the viewing. She couldn’t wait. She believed in the Eye of God, she believed it with every fiber of her being.

Katarina couldn’t put into words her love of art. She didn’t remember why she had wandered into that museum when she was sixteen. She only remembered how she felt seeing the 19th century Russian icon, “St. Nicholas –Woodworker”. It was a show full of Russian iconography, but this one piece, in the corner, had drawn her in. She stood looking at it for a few minutes, but it must have been hours, because afterwords it was dark outside.

The gallery had been mostly empty when she bought her ticket. A docent at the front desk asked if she wished to have a tour and she had declined, saying she preferred to just look. This one icon stopped her in her tracks and after looking over every detail, she suddenly felt as if she was surrounded by people. She sensed them all about, but was frozen, like in a dream. She tried to break eye contact with St. Nicholas, but could not. She couldn’t see anyone in her peripheral vision, but she heard them, talking, filling the room with sound. They spoke in different languages, this crowd, but there was one tongue which seemed clearer than the others. It was Aramaic. She knew it, but didn’t know how, as she had never even heard of Aramaic, let alone heard it. Then she heard a voice talking to her, but she couldn’t understand the words. The icon let her go, she turned to see the crowd, but was alone. An hour later the fog of time had hidden this memory from her.

It was years later, at a lecture in Syria, she heard a professor read a passage in Aramaic, “The Eye of God can see all and knows when to listen.” The professor explained that this meant God was always watching and knew to which prayers he must pay special attention. Katarina knew that his interpretation was mistaken, that it referred to something else entirely, something specific. The fog which had clouded her memory of that day burned away. Suddenly, she remembered all of it, the people, the Russian Icon, and what they were all talking about. It was the Eye of God, and they told her she would find it. She carried this with her, and now, standing on the cold street, she took strength knowing she was on the right path.

A car pulled up. Patrick opened the door and she got in. “Did you enjoy your dinner?”

“I did. And you?”

“It was fine. Randy will take us to his next amazing hiding place.”

Randy looked over his shoulder, “It is a ways from here and with the traffic, it will take a while, but soon you will be in the presence of the Eye of God.”

She didn’t appreciate his cavalier tone. The showmanship seemed to be mocking the sacred treasure. She leaned back and tried to relax, but she was uneasy. She had good reason to be, as they were being followed.

Chapter Fifty-Four

Arthur and Hans pulled away from the curb after Patrick and Katarina and another car drove past. The traffic was typical for that time of night, and they stayed a ways back. Arthur smoking, with one hand on the wheel, “They don’t’ seem to be in too much of a hurry.”

“Just don’t get close enough that Patrick notices, he is very careful, but don’t lose them either.”

Arthur resented the implication that he didn’t know how to tail someone. It wasn’t the time for a debate with Hans, so he let it go. “So what's the plan for tomorrow?”

Hans rolled down his window, for the fresh air, and said “I have been thinking about that, we may need to move forward without the Garneau collection.”

“So I don’t get my pound of flesh? Is that what you are suggesting?”

“Your original plan was brilliant, while Garneau, Schafer and the Falcon are bidding, we hit them; you robbing Dr. Schaeffer and me taking Garneau’s collection, and then dealing with the Falcon afterward. But if everything you have told me about Garneau is true, he will resist, might even fight back. It isn’t worth the risk.”

Arthur knew he was right, but was still angry at the ‘following’ crack, “It sounds to me like you afraid of a fat old man.”

Hans knew Arthur was trying to needle him, but it didn’t really matter. “With Garneau there, it means that Claude will be too, plus his ‘French Maid’, and the others. Before, it would just be the old cook and maids, far less chance of someone being a hero. There are too many people for one person.”

“You are right, of course, so what are you thinking?”

“It occurred to me that we could take both the Falcon’s collection and Dr. Schaeffer’s as well. As a bonus, we grab the Eye of God, and call it our retirement savings.”

Arthur liked this idea very much, but was distracted. “Are they being followed?”

“Of course, that is what we are doing…what are you talking about?”

“The car that pulled out before us is still on their tail, after three turns.”

Hans looked more closely, but wasn’t sure. They sat in silence, until the traffic slowed to a crawl on Broadway. “You seen that yet?” Arthur asked, pointing at a marquee.

“What?”

“The Pajama Game. Garneau made me go to it with him earlier in the year.”

“I read it got great reviews, but no, I haven’t seen it.”

“I didn’t realize it at the time, but I had read Bissell’s novel, Seven and a Half Cents. I didn’t know they had turned it into a musical, until I was reading the program.”

“Are they turning?” Hans said.

“I don’t know if they will tour, but I would think they might.”

Hans pointing ahead, “No, the Falcon and Patrick, are they TURNING?”

“Sorry, And yes.”

They turned too, as did the car which was following Patrick’s car.

***

Arthur and Hans had fallen behind, when they found the car, and Randy, the Studebaker was gone.

Chapter Fifty-Five

Patrick and Katarina looked at each other. He had a blank expression on his face; she had a glimmer of hope in her eyes. It was obvious she had an idea. Patrick hadn’t faced tough situations before; his planning had always kept him at arm’s length. He thought about how he wished he could just give them the Eye of God and walk away, but that wasn’t an option.

Katarina felt a little bit better, seeing that Patrick wasn’t scared, but she could tell he was at a loss. The situation looked bleak, but she had one skill, better than the rest. She could weave a story. If she did it well, she might be able to keep them alive long enough to escape. She knew the history of the artifact and she knew that they couldn’t kill them until it was found. She hoped they spoke English well enough to understand her, as a good story not understood, isn’t very helpful.

The thought crossed her mind that maybe Arthur and Hans had been able to keep up. That gave her hope. Had they even noticed the other car following her? It was a fifty/fifty proposition, at best. What she needed was to bring in Henry.
He’s smart, but can I get him a message? And what should that message be?

The car slowed to a stop and the driver got out at a pay phone. The man in the passenger seat said something to them in Greek. The tone was not threatening, it was calm, but the smile afterwords was unnerving. The driver got back in and they started off again.

Katrina looked back and there wasn’t anyone behind them, so it seemed that Arthur and Hans had not kept up. The car turned twice and then pulled into a deserted parking lot. There were two more cars and a truck. There must have been eight guys standing around, but she couldn’t tell if there were more in the cars. They were taken out of the cars at gun point and forced into the back of the truck. The sound of a lock told them that their captors weren’t taking any chances of them jumping out of the back.

This was a break. Katarina could talk to Patrick and get on the same page.

***

Henry’s mood had been dampened by the news that Katarina was involved. Mike hadn’t mentioned that she was the Falcon. Henry didn’t see any point in denying it and told them Katarina’s history and her knowledge of art. He wasn’t sure when she had gotten involved in the world of stolen art, but it seemed obvious to him that she was the Falcon.

“Maybe she just works for the Falcon?” Celine offered, feeling Henry's pain.

“It's possible, but my gut tells me otherwise.”

Professor Brookert, “So where are we at? It seems like we have fulfilled our contract with Dr. Schaeffer, but we still don’t know who killed Mickey.”

Mike, “We also know of a crime about to be committed, namely selling stolen merchandise. It's likely there are three other murders which were part of this deal. Maybe we should call the chief and put an end to this, let them sort it out downtown.”

“You might be right, Mike. I want to catch the bastard who killed Mike, but waiting until I have proof, might be a mistake. He's dead. I've accepted it and all that's left is to lock up the killer. There's only one concern and that is Dr. Schaeffer, I don’t feel right about letting him get caught, even if he is guilty of buying stolen art. Are you okay with that, Mike?”

Mike wasn’t okay with it, but he understood Henry, and his loyalty to his friends. It didn’t surprise Mike that Henry would be as loyal to his clients, too. He had learned that from Mickey. “No, I understand.”

It was decided they would all be in the office by 7:00 a.m. Henry needed to sleep on his plan.

***

Patrick looked at her, “You have an idea. I can see it.”

“We have been doing business a long time, my friend. I'm not going to sugar coat it; I think our chances are not very good. Once they realize we don’t know where it is, they won’t have any reason not to put us both down.”