Dead Drop by F.C. Malby

Author:F.C. Malby [F.C. Malby]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Linen Press
Published: 2021-10-04T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 16

The evening light in my apartment stretches out across the wood floor, leaving long shadows. A warm wind moves the curtains momentarily and I feel a sense of peace here in the quiet space, something that I rarely feel around people. I find people endlessly frustrating and unpredictable. I pour a large vodka and watch the clear liquid hit the sides of the glass, slipping between ice cubes. I swill the glass, listening to the ice clink. It’s a habit I cannot break. The vodka cools as it mixes with the ice, a contrast to the burn I feel as I take the first swig, my throat numbing as I drain the glass.

I get up and close the window, then slump onto the sofa and boot up the laptop, kicking my feet up towards the window end. I think about the soap on the floor. When I look at simple objects – the door lock, the living room curtain, the window, the bathroom sink – I see misplaced items or the curtain blowing in the breeze, as though someone is still in the apartment. I go over to check that the window is shut and the lock in place, as though my eyes deceive me. My line of vision shifts and moves with the night shadows, a delicate dance of terrifying shapes.

I should use the internet cafe, to avoid detection, but I’m too tired and uneasy about what I now have to do. I log in, using an encrypted password. This will scramble my password so that it’s unreadable by hackers. Imagine all that hard work stored on the server. If a hacker gets inside, all your efforts go to waste and your username and password are sold on the open market to the highest bidder. The thought makes me shudder. I have to return the works of art to the rightful owners and time is not on my side. I search for looted art in Austria in 1939.

Hans has sewn seeds of doubt in my mind. I need to check. Just this once, I need to check that I’m not deceived. I always trust my judgement, but his manner has made me waver, made me doubt my own beliefs. I’ll go to the cathedral tomorrow and ask for strength of mind, for a resolve that I know I will need. There it is, a page from the search engine on articles of Kimts at the Belvedere, and Schieles at the Leopold. I click on the article which cites the outrage of Herr Leopold. He does, of course, defend his collection and the need for the public to own, and view, these priceless works. He sounds like Hans. Art belongs with its owners, however small and unknown they may be in the art world. It belongs with those who understand its value and I realise I have to move the paintings, not from the museums to the dead drops, but from the museums to their owners.

I log off, close the lid of the laptop and reach for a pack of cigarettes.

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