Chapter Five

Raphael stood before his easel set up by his bedroom window. From the apartment, the top windows could see the Eiffel Tower and several houses. Since it was still day time the view wasn't as beautiful as it could be.

He glanced at his painting; a lovely navy purple night setting with the Eiffel Tower and small windows of little houses. In the foreground was a place to sit, but no one was seated there yet. Raphael sighed, taking out the coin from his pocket and fiddling with it, rolling it between his fingers as he tried to think what to put in the foreground. A man? A woman? Both? And if he did, someone he knew? A stranger? What would they look like? What would they be doing?

Any artists, being painters, musicians, authors or any form of creator, knows the true struggles of creating an artwork one is proud of.

"Argh!" Father groaned. "Maudit tout!"

Raphael peered his head into his Father's room, smirking at his literal French which Raphael learnt he only did when truly frustrated. ���Father, are you alright?" he asked standing in the doorway. His father, a tall, proud man in professional attire, was surrounded by four artworks, three famously painted arts and one of his own creation. His focus, and annoyance, stemmed from his original work.

At hearing his son's worry he chuckled and waved away his concern. "An artist merely trying to art," he replied amid his chuckles. "These pieces need to be verified by the end of the week and these one's in particular are tricky."

"How so?" Raphael asked approaching his Father's maze of canvases.

There was a slight gleam in his eyes, a suddenly burst of excited passion at his son's interest. "Well look at this one," he gestured to a landscape image of a city space; bustling streets with people running errands and speaking, at its centre a road with horse drawn carts and on its sides the tall buildings. The whole artwork had a rather dark colour palette.

"This artwork was called, 'The Call to New.' It was an American's interpretation of Paris some years ago, in an attempt to portray it to his American brethren." Raphael listened to his Father's art jargon, until he noted, "But I believe this to be a forgery."

Raphael widened his eyes, "How can you tell?"

"Because of the type of paint used." With a gentle touch he ran his finger down the edge, across one of the buildings, "This type of paint, while dry, looks thick. Too thick for the type of paint that would've been used at the time, additionally this navy colour here is too rich for the time period to use. The early 1800's was a darker time, even for artists."

Raphael could scarcely see the difference at that point. "Can I stay in here and watch you work?" he asked, looking up to his Father.

"If you'd like, but nothing really exciting happens," Father confessed.

"That's fine." Raphael sat at his Father's desk and observed his little movements, as he switched from his own artwork to the masterpieces, examining them and fiddling with the coin in his hand. At one point becoming so engrossed he brought the coin to his lips and bit it.

Raphael found himself biting the tip of the coin amongst his thoughts, stopping himself when he became aware of it. He looked down at the coin again, its inscriptions and strange beetle symbol.

"I can't tell you where I'm going, Raphael, only that I won't come back.'

Raphael sighed, ruffling his hair as he placed the coin on his side table. He sighed through his nose and started humming, returning to his painting as he continued to drone old music pieces he recalled from his mother's record player. He heard the door open, glancing at Anita who entered, eyes glued to a newspaper. She was so engrossed in the paper she ignored his attempts at conversation.

"Anita?" He tapped her on the shoulder, jolting her from her attention. "What's so interesting?"

"Before I tell you, can we get a cat?"

"Pardon?" The young thief was confused.

"Can we get a cat? Or a dog? Or a cat?" Anita gave him a smile.

"Where is this coming from?" Raphael asked folding his arms.

She tipped the paper forwards to show Raphael. He stared at the upside-down image printed on the paper and tilted his head. "The Louvre?" he raised an eye brow, "We've already been to that museum, Anita."

She nodded, "Yes, indeed. But they have a new exhibit advertised for the Festival of Paris," she explained reading the article. "'In anticipation for the Fete de Paris, the Louvre is pleased to announce the inclusion of the…" She paused, unable to pronounce what the artefact was actually called, "Also known as the Ring of Liberty, on display from the day of the festival onwards as a permanent exhibition to honour France's history of liberty, equality and fraternity." She scanned the remaining article before adding, "Something about its worth and origins… graciously donated by International Explorer David Rossi… representation of freedom… in honour of reigning Queen Elizabeth…" She shook her head, "Beside the point Raphael! I found it!"

Raphael shook his head and sat beside her, "Anita! I still don't understand what you're trying to tell me."

"Look at this image. Look at what is on the ring!"

Raphael looked to the image, in one shot there was a landscape image of the famous Louvre centred here in Paris. It was filled with various artworks, sculptures, exhibits and history lessons of other countries and ancestors of the Crown, but beside the building was a close image of the artefact; a jade colours ring with foreign inscriptions on it.

"Okay... it's a lovely ring but what's… so…" Raphael saw it, his eyes widened slightly. Among some of the inscriptions Raphael noticed the beetle symbol, the exact same one on his father's coin. He shook his head, "No… that's… that's too easy…" Raphael spread the paper on his desk and examined his coin, looking from one beetle to the other.

Anita stood next to him, holding a magnify glass. He took the glass and hovered it over the image to get a better look at the inscription. The pair of them had done countless trips to the library, researched constantly different cultures, artists, cults, groups and symbols. "They did say this was new," Anita said resting her head against his shoulder, "Maybe it was only just found?"

"But my Father isn't an explorer, how would have found something like this before anyone else?" Raphael asked. "Maybe my Father was among those who found it. It had to have come from somewhere."

Anita nodded, "But from where? It's not like cultures just pop up out of nowhere… can they?"

Raphael shrugged, "Well cultures have to be found at some point, correct?" He put the magnifying glass down. "This is the biggest lead I've had in a long time, Anita."

"Excursion to Louvre?" Anita put her hands together excitedly, a wide smile on her face.

He smiled, touching her nose with his, before agreeing. "Indeed."

She whooped, jumping on the top and twirling around the room smiling. "Whoo-hoo!" She continued twirling around and smiling until she jumped onto Raphael's bed. He laughed as she stopped, panting from her sudden burst of movement, and plonked herself on the bed catching her breath. Then suddenly asked, "So about that cat?"

Raphael rolled his eyes. "We'll go to the Louvre later, figure out where it's from and see how my Father connects to it."

Anita pouted but nodded. She looked at the painting on his easel and approached it, "How goes your art work, Phantom?" She glanced out the window and back to the canvas, little speckles of gold and yellow to signify windows and pale white to be the lights on the Eiffel Tower and the stars. "Do you know what you're going to put in front of it?"

Raphael shrugged, picking up the newspaper to look at the article. "Not really a pressing matter. I'll get around to it when I think of something."

Anita hummed before turning on her heels and marching out of the room. "I'm going to make tea!" she called at the top of the stairs.

"Remember the crème," Raphael replied.

"I know what to do!" Her voice was a bellow at the bottom of the stairs.

Raphael's thoughts wandered to whether he was indeed a bad influence on her like the nuns believed. Lady-like wasn't the first thing he'd describe her as.

He smoothed out the newspaper on the desk and held the coin between his thumb and forefinger. "Got a lead…" he uttered placing the coin by the ring, "It's not solid but at least it's something, Father." As he heaved a long sigh he slouched in his chair, so far, his feet touched the wall under his desk.

*

Raphael and Anita smiled at the guard who observed patrons walking into the museum. The young thief dressed in his more casual wear of blue jacket and normal trousers, he appeared vastly more child-like then his art thief façade.

Anita fought the smirks at the sight of his hair; a messy bush of red.

The pair had been to the Louvre several times before for leisure reasons and basic history and folklore references for Anita's teachings. Her favourite largely revolved around the drawings and prints of battles, one being a depiction of the 'War of the Roses.'

Raphael always appreciated how large and how popular the museum was. Every time he had come here there was a line up, mainly consisting of more wealthy members of society as tickets were at times pricey, and inside there were groups of people following a tour guide explaining some of the more well-known exhibits. Raphael would glance at Anita staring at the loosely fitted jewellery on some of the women, or the unattended coats which sat unguarded behind the reception desk. He nudged her, "Focus, Ann. We don't have time to be petty," he whispered.

She grumbled slightly. "I highly doubt some of these women would miss their napkins or broaches with how horribly they guard them. They're almost daring me to, Ralphie."

Raphael urged her to focus as he walked down the wide hallways and viewed the tall walls occupied neatly by some of the larger paintings. There was one room where the art was found on the walls, the floor and the ceiling. On the walls it depicted humans, largely from medieval times, committing regular acts ranging from war to chores, while the ceiling showed babies with wings among other adult versions, a heaven of sorts, while the ground, at first glance was a golden honey colour, but upon looking at the details unnerving portrayals of hell could be seen.

From the art thief's knowledge, they were getting rid of this feature within the next few years due to its 'horrific imagery.' He, himself, found it interesting.

Raphael and Anita strolled through the museum, following a small crowd of people who were marvelling at the enormous artworks which stretched up walls, ranging from portraits to landscapes. As Raphael followed he too looked at the paintings and sighed, exasperated, every now and then.

Anita caught him once, "What's wrong?"

"Some of these are fake," he explained to her, not worrying about anybody hearing him due to the noise from the chitter chatter of the older women in front of him. "There was one artwork previously known for the clumsiness of their creator, while it was still wet they had grabbed the edges with their bare hands, smudging the paint and leaving behind an accidental fingerprint which dried into place." He held up his thumb as he explained, "You go, look at that landscape, and you will find no thumb or forefinger prints. It's a really good forgery, but not accurate."

Anita blinked, having not noticed it herself. "How many of these are forgeries?" she asked.

Raphael shrugged, "Not a lot of them actually. Many are authentic, only some are replicas." A portrait snapped his attention, "Like that one over there," it was a portrait of a medieval man dressed in highly decorative attire of noble status and a large beret with a bulky feather. "That is a portrait of an affluent man from the 1600's. But it was in a wealthy woman's house during the French Revolution in the late 1700's, exposed to fire when the commoners burnt down the houses. Many artworks were destroyed, but some were saved," Raphael kneeled down to her size, "however they were damaged. That one has no evidence of fire damage in its paint or material or anything. So, it's either a forgery or they attempted to mend it, either way it's incorrectly advertised as an untouched masterpiece."

Anita nodded. "I think I understand."

Raphael chuckled kissing her on the top of the head and stood up, "Come on then."

Anita held his hand as they continued following the group of women into the next room. During one of the hallways, which was an artwork itself with intricate wallpaper of past inventors and their sketches. Across one wall there were journals and parchments encased in elegant wooden cabinets, upon closer inspection Raphael saw them to be past creators, inventors and architects ranging from Leonardo De Vinci, suspected works of Archimedes and countless diagrams of vehicles, farming strategies and human anatomy. It was fascinating.

Raphael was impressed by the leather-bound book showing Leonardo De Vinci's scribes and drawings of a flying machine.

"Can you tell if that's real, Ralphie?" Anita asked, barely being tall enough to see it.

Raphael shrugged, "I'm good with paint, not paper. But… it looks fairly real," he admitted. He wanted to examine the book, but chose to just stare at the messy handwriting.

"Ralphie!" Anita pulled on his jacket sleeve, pointing into the next room.

Another room, guarded by four guards at it entrance, was filled with people installing similar looking cabinets. Raphael attempted to look more but a large black curtain was suddenly draped across the entrance, the guards standing in front of it, eyeing people as they passed. "Do you think that's where the ring is?" Anita asked.

Raphael shrugged, "Most likely. But we can't leave anything to chance."

The pair walked down the hallway and several meters away from the curtain. "I'll go see if the other entrances are blocked," Anita whispered walking down the hallway.

Raphael leaned against the wall, pretending to stare at the details of a copy of Vase of Fifteen Flowers on the opposite wall, glancing up every now and then to seem distracted by the chandelier.

Anita came skipping down from the opposite hallway and stopped in front of Raphael. She nodded, her body language remaining child-like. "All four entrances are covered with the curtains, each with a pair of guards."

"That's great," Raphael replied folding his arms.

"I think there's more inside, but I couldn't see," she confessed.

"You willing to be my eyes in there, Ann?"

Anita tilted her head, "Pardon?"

*

Raphael stood in the corner of the hallway, watching people walk by, waiting for someone perfect to come along.

A woman, wearing a large and over-the-top pink and purple hat filled with feathers, baubles and beads. Raphael glanced at Anita, who sat on a bench by the security guards. He followed behind the woman, not obviously, but managed to get very close to her.

"Oh, my goodness! Ma'am!" He waved his hand above her hat, dropping one of his small smoke bombs amongst the feathers. It reacted and started spitting smoke, "I think your hat is on fire!"

The woman quickly became hysterical, squealing for help and for someone to put it out. The security guard became shocked, one rushing to her aid, the other rushing for some water.

Raphael was amongst the people attempting to assist the woman, some patting at her hair while others yelled she take it off before it burnt her hair. However, the woman had the hat stuck to her head with various wires and pins. People started ripping them out, throwing them on the ground in an attempt to remove the headpiece.

Raphael was in shock at the violence and stepped away from it.

Anita crawled to the curtain and slipped inside, remaining crouched as she hid behind a small counter by the entry way.

Many people were in there, some hearing the commotion called out and investigated. Anita quietly observed.

After managing to detach the head piece from the woman, no one could find the source of the smoke, and were confused there was no damage to any of her accessories. Raphael sat quietly, periodically patting his head from seeing a wailing woman fuzzing about with her hair.

The security guards returned to their posts and gradually people continued with their museum visit, including the woman, who begrudgingly replaced her hat. All Raphael could do was wait.

As he sat, a woman set up a black easel by the archway and placed a large advertisement for Fete De Paris, bright blue and red with fireworks and fancy lights. Raphael remembered the last Fete De Paris, during the day there was often music and cake stalls, at times puppeteers or story-tellers. It was a very colourful affaire. However, it was livelier during the night when people performed, told stories and shared goods. Adults would drink and waltz in the courtyard, chanting at the top of their lungs while the children attempted to stay awake long enough to see the fireworks conducted at midnight.

He was fifteen the last time Fete De Paris had been on, with his Father.

He smirked at the memory of his Father starting a dance in the square in the early evening. A man had been playing a cheerful tune on his accordion, people threw some coins into his hat, a clapping beat had formed amongst his crowd and his Father offered his hand to a woman and they started dancing, other couples soon joining in. Raphael remembered eating a caramelised apple while sitting by the musician happily clapping along. A girl had sat by him and offered him a dance as well.

He blinked away the memory at the sight of Anita, having been caught by a very official looking man in a suit, was being guided out of the room, followed by a stern looking conversation when the man bent down to her size. There was a lot of finger waving.

Raphael chewed the inside of his cheek to keep from smirking. He rose and approached Anita.

"Brother!" Anita called pointing to him as he approached.

The status hit Raphael like a punch, stopping him in his tracks as Anita rushed over to him and threw her arms around him. Pushing aside the shock, he kneeled to her. "Where have you been? Mother's been worried sick!" His words sounded genuine.

The man approached Raphael. "Are you her guardian?"

Raphael paused before stating, "No… I'm her brother," he informed straightening himself.

The man explained how she had been out of bounds, and lectured him vaguely about how he needed to keep a better eye on her. Raphael gave an honest apology for inconveniencing the security guard. "I promise, it won't happen again, monsieur."

The man nodded, fixing his tie before turning and stalking back into the hidden room. Raphael grabbed Anita's hand and walked down the hallway, sitting on a cushioned seat before a window. "Museum Manager?" Raphael asked.

Anita looked pale, being a pickpocket meant not getting caught, whenever she was she became a bag of nerves. "I think so…" she confessed, she appeared short of breath.

Raphael chuckled patting her on the back. "What did you find out?"

Anita sighed again, facing him. "When I went in there, I saw six guys installing a cabinet…"

Anita recounted the events of the five minutes she was in there. At first it was just the labourers, but soon some security guards walked in, explaining the fire situation, followed by the suited man who wanted to know what was happening. After about four explanations, they spoke about the ring. "Now remember, it's part of a set for the festival!" He sounded very on edge, and appeared fidgety. "Our Liberty installation must be perfect gentlemen! I won't have a single scratch on this glass! Not so much as a smudge!" His hysterical nature made Anita exhausted merely hearing it.

"I can't imagine how the poor man must feel," she stated smoothing out her skirt.

"Anything of use to us amongst all that hysteria?" Raphael asked.

Moments after his frenzy of particulars, the Museum Manager demanded the highest security guards for the exhibit for the whole of the festival. "He's convinced you'll steal it," she informed, "Upgrade to artefacts."

Raphael chuckled. "I can't imagine why."

"Apparently he's going to get the police involved. Security measures, double guards, hounds, everything! Especially at night."

Raphael exhaled, leaning his elbows on his knees. "Sounds intense."

"Once the cabinets are in installed they're going to bring in the jewellery. Apparently, the ring isn't the only jewellery being presented. They're installing it tonight and opening it tomorrow to show people throughout the day." Anita sighed through his nose, "Then they saw me before I could hide again. I made an excuse I was playing hide and seek with my brother, but they weren't happy with me."

She rubbed her temples, remembering the fright she got from being found.

Raphael watched as she slouched on the bench. He looked back down to the curtain, looking at the security. "We need to get that ring," Raphael said.

Anita sat up. "How do you suggest we do that?"

"They definitely said they were involving police?" Raphael checked. Anita nodded, making him smile. "This is gonna take some serious planning, Anita. But I think we can pull this off."

Anita raised an eye brow, "We?"