Chapter 1

1

“I’ll have another, Jack,” Lou told the bartender at his favorite watering hole, tapping his empty beer bottle.

“You got it,” Jack replied, adding, “I thought two was your limit.”

“Usually, but tonight I’m breaking my rule.”

“I’ll pay for it,” a man said, taking the empty stool beside Lou, “and one for me as well.”

Lou turned to see who was offering to buy his drink.

The man, who had dark blond hair and looked in his mid-forties, smiled. “We haven’t officially met, Mr. Hernandez, but I was at the trials for both of the men involved in the death of John Pierce. My name is Gideon Monahan.”

Lou cocked his head. “That rings a bell. I think Quint Hawk mentioned you at one point. You have something to do with recovering stolen art.”

“I do…privately. I’m not connected with the FBI or any other law enforcement agency.” Gideon took a drink when the bartender set it down in front of him.

“So you tracked me down to congratulate me on helping to put them behind bars?”

“Yes. I don’t like it when one of my operatives is murdered. However, that’s not the reason I’m here. I’m impressed by the job you did to trap them. You seem to be good at undercover work, the same way John was.”

Lou shrugged. “I have my moments.”

“I hope they’re often, because I have a proposition for you.”

“You’re propositioning me?” Lou said, straight-faced. “Does that mean I’m getting lucky tonight?”

“I don’t swing that way,” Gideon huffed in reply. Then he chuckled. “I know…Well, I hope you weren’t serious.”

“Nope.” Not sure I like his reaction, but…might as well hear him out. “So, back to what you said. I’m good at what I do. I’d better be. I ama cop.”

“An excellent one, from what I’ve heard. I could use a man like you.”

“Sorry. Not interested. I’m a police officer for a reason. I like my job. With luck, I’ll make detective soon.”

“So Lieutenant Harber told me when I talked with him this afternoon.”

“About me?” Lou raised one dark eyebrow in question.

Gideon nodded, turning to put his back to a man who slid onto the stool next to him. “Why don’t we find a table where we can talk without being overheard?” he suggested quietly.

With a shrug, Lou picked up his fresh beer, following Gideon to a table in the back corner of the bar. When they were seated, he said, “I’ve already told you I’m not interested in leaving my present job.”

“That wouldn’t be a problem, as far as I’m concerned. As I said, I talked with your lieutenant. He’s willing to loan you out to me—”

“Just a damned second,” Lou said tightly. “I’m not a…a thingto be passed around at your—or the lieutenant’s—whim.”

Gideon nodded in agreement. “I phrased that wrong. Let me preface this by telling you that one of the men you helped bring to justice was small fry compared to the guy I’m after now.”

Lou tried not to show any interest in what Gideon was saying, only asking, “How so?”

“What do you know about art forgery?”

“Not a whole lot, other than what I learned on the case you mentioned. The perp had his cohorts copy an existing work when it was brought in to be appraised. Then he returned the forgery to the owner with papers saying it was valued at whatever, knowing the owner thought it was the original painting and would take his word for it.”

Gideon took up the story. “Leaving the appraiser with the original, to sell or use for collateral when purchasing—in this case—drugs. That’s a tried and true ploy but only the tip of the iceberg.” He took a drink, then continued. “Art crime is the third or fourth highest grossing criminal activity in the world today, depending on who you talk to.”

“You’re kidding.”

“Nope. Think about it, Lou. The art trade is the largest legal, unregulated business on the planet, according to the founder of Art Recovery International. I agree. When a work of art changes hands, there is almost no paper trail other than the provenance papers associated with it. Before you say anything—if a forger can copy a Manet or a Degas or whomever, what makes you think they couldn’t forge the provenance papers as well? Suppose you’re Mr. Got Rocks. You’re dying to get your hands on a painting by so-and-so. When the word gets out, you’re approached by a man who claims to own one—and can prove it.”

“If I’m smart, wouldn’t I do my due diligence?”

“You’re greedy. You want the painting. The man offering it for sale has the provenance papers and an appraisal from a reputable company. And…he wants less for it than you know the painting is worth. Would you turn that down?”

Lou chuckled. “I would. But then, I’m not the trusting sort. I get what you’re saying, though.”

“Good. Consider that the forger has several excellent copies of the original and sells them to unwary buyers spread around the world. He does it relatively quickly then disappears with the money. Even if Buyer A does brag about owning the painting and Buyer B hears about it and they compare notes, it’s too late to do anything about it.”

“Clever.”

“Exactly. Another ploy is to take advantage of an art theft from a museum, gallery, or personal collection. The forger makes a copy—or again, several copies—of the painting, then contacts a buyer. His story is that he has the original and the one that the museum claims was returned to them is actually a copy they put up to ‘avoid embarrassment’. Yeah, you’d have to be stupid to believe that story, but as I said, avid collectors are greedy. They want to get their hands on the piece and they put common sense aside. Of course, the forger remindsthem that telling anyone they have what they believe is the original will bring the law down on their heads.”

Lou nodded. “So they hide it away and gloat over it—along with the fact that they put one over the authorities.”

“Yep.”

“I gather you’re after one of these forgers.”

“I am, although his con is a bit different than most. His forgeries aren’t of existing works of art. Instead, he claims he’s gotten his hands on an unknown painting, done by an artist—in this case Leonaert Bramer, during his early period before he became famous.”

“How does he pull that off?” Lou asked. He realized he was beginning to be intrigued by what Gideon was telling him.