Kurt stepped down from the platform to remove the drape from his first painting. Everyone moved closer. It was a portrait of a woman; her hair had been styled with hundreds of tiny seashells, and in her arms was a small piglet, which she was suckling. He withdrew a drape from a second painting, and this one created more of a murmur. It was a mermaid, her webbed tail and fin covered in pieces of tin foil. Her blond hair was brilliant yellow seaweed, and out of her wide-lipped mouth emerged a fish with a phallic tail.
The astonished guests began whispering, even sniggering, as Jack eased his way around the room. He kept his eyes on Kurt, but he could see no obvious weapon. Jack noted that the two security men were now inside.
Kurt started laughing, then pivoted to the third canvas. Someone said loudly that they had seen enough and this made everyone laugh. Kurt stopped in his tracks, his face twisted with disbelief.
‘You have not seen my best work. I was keeping it for the end. But I will quickly show you some of my most recent pieces first.’ The third painting was of a red brick building with dolls’ faces smeared with makeup at the windows. People began to walk out. Now Kurt was really becoming agitated, swirling around in his robe, his face glistening with sweat as he screamed,
‘Wait! I have saved the best for last.’ There was laughter around the room. ‘You two-faced condescending... Look! This is my masterwork: my beloved mentor Detmar Steinburg, Ladies and Gentlemen.’
Kurt had to jump up to unhook the drape from the top of the six-foot canvas. As soon as it was revealed, the laughter instantly stopped, to be replaced with gasps of horror. The figure was crudely painted, his crossed ankles and outstretched hands nailed to the cross with silver bolts. Naked and with deep knife wounds gushing blood, the most appalling part was the head. The figure’s long hair hung loosely to the shoulders but couldn’t disguise the destroyed face, with blood spurting from empty eye sockets, the nose flattened to a pulp and the mouth a mass of broken teeth.
Jack gestured as unobtrusively as possible for the two security guards to move closer. They were now standing on either side of the painting, and Jack was easing into position behind it. After the initial shock, people began to find their voices and they were all angry. There were shouts of ‘Rubbish!’, ‘Disgusting!’ and ‘Sickening!’ Some of the guests were using their mobiles to take photographs, as others made for the doors to get away from the terrible sight as quickly as they could.
Jack saw Kurt reaching into one of the kaftan’s deep pockets and shouted out for the security guards to grab him. But, in that instant, Jack knew Kurt would get to the gun first. As he hurled his body at Kurt, he could see the silver Glock pistol butt. Jack knocked him sideways as the two security guards grabbed an arm each. Kurt was kicking and writhing, but the three of them managed to hold him down while Jack wrenched the Glock from his hands and pushed it out of reach.
They flipped Kurt onto his front so that the security guards could cuff him, allowing Jack to retrieve the weapon and flick the safety catch on.
‘Shoot me! Go on!’ Kurt screamed, as Jack grabbed one of the cords that had been holding the painting’s drapes to tie Kurt’s feet.
Jack turned to the stunned guests. ‘You all need to exit the gallery — now!’ Only then did he hear the police sirens wailing, but it was still a few minutes before DI Collingwood and three uniformed officers burst into the room.
Collingwood had done his best in the time he had but had only brought six officers. Three were downstairs in the reception area as the guests were all pushing to leave. It was pandemonium, with screams and shouts from those who had witnessed the horrific unveiling. Eventually Collingwood gave instructions for everyone to remain in the main gallery until he had taken their statements.
Jack remained with the two security guards standing over the hysterical Kurt, his hands and feet now restrained, but still twisting his body back and forth like a captured animal, until Collingwood instructed his officers to take him into custody. They replaced the cord with leg straps before dragging Kurt to his feet, ready to bundle him into the waiting patrol car, while he continued swearing, spitting and trying to bite them. As they pulled a spit hood down over his face, Kurt turned his venom onto Jack, alternately snarling and sobbing while repeating over and over, ‘Kill Me! Kill me!’
Jack remained with Collingwood as he explained in more detail what had happened, handing him the hairs from the brush and comb for DNA analysis to verify that their victim was Detmar Steinburg. Even if the painting made it obvious that Kurt Neilson had committed the murder, everything would still have to be proven beyond doubt. Collingwood was finding it difficult to take in everything Jack was saying. He made copious notes, while constantly taking deep breaths and wiping sweat from his palms.
‘You have to arrest O’Reilly and search his address asap.’
‘I’m still waiting for the warrant.’ Collingwood saw Jack roll his eyes in disbelief. ‘It’s a Saturday evening, Jack. Trying to find a bloody magistrate is murder.’
Jack nodded. ‘When you do get it, you’ll find even more evidence in O’Reilly’s house. And he was here tonight demanding money.’
‘O’Reilly was here?’
‘Yes, I won’t waste your time with all the details now. But I am pretty certain he’s the one who cleaned up the framer’s shop and is also involved in Detmar’s other business... the illegal sale of forged paintings.’
Collingwood took another deep breath. This case was getting stranger by the minute. ‘Listen Jack, I have to ask you this, because it seems like you’re right at the heart of it—’
Jack interjected. ‘I was suspicious after seeing you all at the ICU. Don’t forget bloody Morrison has been questioning me about being caught on CCTV at the murder site! I wasn’t going to do nothing. I just started to put a few things together, but you take the kudos. Say it was an anonymous tip-off, because I’m out of here.’
‘Jack, wait, you can’t just walk away.’
‘Yes I can. There’s a woman here, Ester. She was Steinburg’s personal assistant for a long time. She should be taken in for questioning. For Christ’s sake Collingwood, don’t waste any more time. She’s loyal, so right now she’ll be clearing out anything incriminating. She cries easily, but she’s a good liar so don’t be fooled. Detmar Steinburg was a very rich man. There’s a hidden room off the office. You’ll find it.’
Collingwood watched Jack walk away, wondering whether he should have allowed him to do so. But he had so much to deal with already, he really had no choice. First off, he needed to find O’Reilly. He would use the ‘anonymous tip’ angle and made a note to talk to whoever had received the call at the station, hoping it would not be traceable back to him. Collingwood had not felt such an adrenalin buzz before in his entire career. Now that his team had secured the gallery and the surrounding scene and were starting to take statements, he decided to go up to the fourth floor and find Steinburg’s assistant. One of his officers was coming down as he headed up the stairs.
‘Anyone up here?’
‘Yes, Sir, woman in the office. She refused to come out; I was just coming down to get a female officer.’
Collingwood continued up to the fourth floor, recalling what Jack said about a hidden room. He did a quick check of the bathroom, toilets and secretaries’ office before entering into the main office.
‘Ester?’
She was taken aback, staring at him, standing by the shredding machine. He moved quickly towards her. ‘I’m Detective Inspector Collingwood. Stop what you’re doing.’ Ester hit the stop button. ‘Are you Ester?’