“Are you done patting yourselves on the back?”
Monica shrugged. “For now, I guess.”
“Then, Viv, I think you should extend the extra security to cover Billy’s house.”
“I’ll do that. Maybe I should also have some of my people dressed as partygoers on Saturday night as well.”
“That’s a great idea.”
Stone’s phone rang. On the screen was the name Simon Duchamp.
“Everyone stay quiet,” Stone said, then answered. “Hello?”
“Stone, it’s Simon. I apologize for calling so late, but do you have a moment? If this is a bad time...”
“Not at all. What can I do for you?”
“I have excellent news. The owner has agreed to sell you all three.”
Stone exchanged a glance with Monica. “That is excellent news. What is he asking?”
“Given your relationship to the artist, he is willing to part with them for eight hundred thousand apiece, which I’m sure you realize is less than he would get if he let them go to auction.”
“That’s quite generous. Can you tell me which ones they are now?”
“I can. Twilight on the Water, Morning on the Avenue, and Summer at Sheep Meadow.”
Stone shared a look with Monica.
“There are a few conditions, however,” Simon said.
“I’m listening.”
“In addition to the prohibition on publicity we already discussed, he would like the sale completed by midnight Saturday.”
“Saturday’s a bit tough for me. I’ll be in a board meeting most of the day and then at an event that evening.”
“I’m sorry, Stone, but I’ve been told the deadline is non-negotiable.”
“What about tomorrow?”
Simon was silent for a few seconds. “I’m afraid that won’t work, either. The paintings won’t be here until Saturday morning.”
“Let me see if I can make some time in my schedule. Give me a few minutes, and I’ll get back to you.”
“I’ll await your call.”
As soon as Stone hung up, Monica said, “Someone’s anxious.”
“But not anxious enough to part with the paintings before Petry’s had the fakes for a day.”
“Simon probably wants the originals at hand, just in case Petry realizes he’s been stiffed,” Dino said.
“But why the midnight deadline?” Viv asked.
“Only one answer I can think of,” Stone said. “He wants to cut and run.”
They discussed options, then Stone called Simon back.
“You have a solution, I hope?” Simon said.
“I do, as long as you don’t mind meeting late.”
“What time do you have in mind?”
“How about eleven p.m., Saturday, at your gallery? I should be able to break free from my event by then.”
“I think that will work. And payment?”
“Once the paintings are authenticated, I’ll make the transfer.”
“Authenticated?” Simon sounded surprised, but then seemed to realize his mistake. “Of course, that’s perfectly reasonable. Whoever you bring in will have to agree to keep the transaction confidential.”
“Lucky for both of us, I don’t need to bring anyone as I’m the foremost authority on my mother’s work.”
Chapter 44
Early the next morning, Monica exited her bathroom and eyed Stone as he pulled on the jacket of his dark gray Armani suit.
“My, you do clean up nice. Just one little thing.” She walked over and adjusted his blue-patterned tie. “That’s better.”
“Thank you, dear.” He motioned to the door. “Shall we?”
Viv was already in the back of an Arrington golf cart when they stepped outside. They joined her and the driver took them to the front of the hotel, where an Audi A6 sedan with a driver awaited them.
“Good morning,” Teddy Fay said from the driver’s seat after they’d climbed in. He’d changed his appearance to that of a fit, middle-aged man, with dark brown hair going gray.
“You must be Billy’s friend,” Monica said.
“Call me John.”
“I’m Monica.”
“Pleasure,” Teddy said.
She narrowed her eyes, studying him. “You and Billy wouldn’t happen to be related, would you?”
“Not that I’m aware of. Why?”
“Something about your eyes.” She sat back. “Sorry. Hazard of working with fine art. I tend to pick out details that others don’t.”
“Maybe you and Billy should take DNA tests,” Stone suggested. “You might be long-lost brothers.”
“I’ll suggest it to him.”
They made it downtown before the morning rush hour kicked into high gear, and were at Rudy’s door a few minutes before six a.m.
The door was opened by a member of the Strategic Services security team. As Stone and the others entered, they could hear hammering coming from deeper inside the townhouse.
“I take it he’s awake,” Stone said.
The woman nodded. “He hasn’t slept since you spoke to him yesterday.”
“That doesn’t sound like painting.”
“He’s building a box to hold the pictures.”
Downstairs, they found Rudy crouched at the open end of a large crate, examining the inside. Leaning against the wall beyond him were three paintings.
“Rudy?” Stone said.
The man jumped at the sound of his name and whirled around. “You’re... you’re back.”
“As we said we would be.”
“What’s with the women?”
“The ladies could be the difference between you serving a five- or twenty-year sentence.”
“They aren’t cops, are they?”
“Not anymore,” Viv said.
Rudy swallowed hard.
Monica’s brow furrowed. “Hold on.”
She walked past Rudy to the canvases leaning against the wall and brushed the tip of a finger against one of them.
Rushing over, Rudy yelled, “Careful!”
He pushed her away and leaned in for a closer look. The spot she’d touched now sported a tiny smudge.
“Dammit.”
He went over to one of his worktables, grabbed a few items, and returned to the damaged painting, then set to work fixing it.
“What tipped you off these were the fakes?” Stone asked Monica.
“I’ve been studying up on your mother’s work, and I knew something was off.”
“And here I thought I was the only one who could tell that quickly.”
“Is that another way of saying I continue to impress you?”
“One could interpret it that way.”
Rudy took a step back and studied his patch job, then faced the others. “Please, do not touch any of the paintings.”
“If they can be ruined so easily, no one’s going to believe they’re real,” Monica said.
“The other two are fine. This one will be dry enough by pickup time. Well, except for that spot, thank you very much.”
“The box is for them?” Stone asked.
Rudy nodded once.
“Simon’s still coming at noon?”
“As far as I know.”
“Where are the originals?” Monica asked.
While Teddy hung back and examined the box, Rudy led Stone, Monica, and Viv to the other end of the studio, where dozens of canvases were stacked like books on a shelf. The Matilda Stones were hidden among them.
Monica sighed. “These are the real ones.” She glanced at Stone, her eyes sparkling. “She was an amazing talent.”
“She was.”
“I’m sure she would be very happy that you found these.”
“Thank you.” Stone looked at Rudy. “Do you know yet if Simon’s taking these with him when he picks up the fakes?”
“The reproductions,” Rudy corrected him. “I do and he’s not. He texted me last evening that he wants me to hold on to them until tomorrow.”