Bernie Rhodenbarr - 05 - The Burglar Who Painted Like Mondrian by Lawrence Block

Author:Lawrence Block
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Tags: Mystery
ISBN: 9780060731434
Publisher: HarperCollins
Published: 2005-07-07T12:40:33+00:00

Chapter Fourteen

“Don’t fall in love with her,” I told Carolyn. “She’s already in the grip of an obsession.”

“What are you talking about?”

“The way you stared at her. I figured you were falling in love, or perhaps in lust. Which is understandable, but—”

“I thought I recognized her.”

“Oh?”

“I thought for a minute she was Alison.”

“Oh,” I said. “Was she?”

“No, of course not. I’d have said hello if she was.”

“Are you sure?”

“Of course I’m sure. Why, Bern?”

“Because she said her name was Elspeth Peters, and I don’t believe her. And she’s tied into the Mondrian business.”

“So? Alison’s not, remember? Alison’s tied into me.”

“Right.”

“There’s a strong resemblance, but that’s all it is, a resemblance. How’s she tied in?”

“She thinks she’s the painting’s rightful owner.”

“Maybe she stole the cat.”

“Not that painting. Onderdonk’s painting.”

“Oh,” she said. “There’s too many paintings, you know that?”

“There’s too much of everything. You just had a phone call, you started to say. From the Nazi?”

“Right.”

“Well, it couldn’t have been Peters. She was here with me.”

“Right.”

“What did she want?”

“Well, she sort of put my mind at rest,” Carolyn said. “She said the cat was alive and well and nothing bad would happen to him as long as I cooperated. She said I didn’t have to worry about them cutting off an ear or a foot or anything, that the bit with the whiskers was to show they meant business but they wouldn’t hurt him or anything. And she said she knew the painting was going to be difficult to get but she was sure we could do it if we put our minds to it.”

“It sounds as though she was trying to comfort you.”

“Well, it worked, Bern. I feel a lot better about the cat. I still don’t know if I’m ever gonna see him again, but I’m not crazy the way I was. Talking with Alison about it last night helped a lot, and now the phone call. Just so I know nothing terrible’s gonna happen to the cat—”

I barely heard the door, but I did look up and see him, and as he approached I sshhhed Carolyn, and she broke off in the middle of a sentence and turned to see why I was interrupting her.

“Shit,” she said. “Hello, Ray.”

“Hello, yourself,” said the best cop money can buy. “You know, you find out who your friends are in this business. Here’s a couple of people I know for years, and all I gotta do is walk in the room and one says sshhh and the other says shit. What’s gonna happen to the cat, Carolyn?”

“Nothing,” she said. Years ago she’d heard somewhere that the best defense is a good offense, and she’d never forgotten it. “The real question is what’s gonna happen to Bernie if his so-called old friends keep arresting him every time he turns around. You ever hear of police harassment, Ray?”

“Just be grateful I never heard of police brutality, Carolyn. Whyntcha take a hike, huh? Stretch your legs. They could use it.”

“If you’re gonna do short jokes, Ray, I’ll do asshole jokes, and where’ll that leave you?”

“Jesus, Bern,” he said.

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