The Art Thief: A Novel by Charney Noah

Author:Charney, Noah [Charney, Noah]
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Publisher: Atria Books
Published: 2007-09-18T04:00:00+00:00

The gentleman waited a very long time, before he spoke.

“You are certain?”

“No question. I’m sorry.”

“So am I, Dr. Barrow. May I ask how you can be certain, so quickly?”

“I’m sorry, I knew before she had cleared all the paint off.”

“How?”

“Would you recognize me?”

“I see. You did not, then, pre-presume your answer before corroboration?”

“Look, I told you! I’m…”

“…sorry. I know. You may stop your ap-pologies. I’m not going to shoot you. The explanation doesn’t matter, right now. At least, you’re not the one with explaining to do. Give me the phone.”

One of his burly accomplices handed over the mobile phone. He dialed. As the phone rang, he waved his hand in dismissal. “Take Dr. Barrow back to his home.”

The two silent associates walked Barrow out of the warehouse cavern. Before his egression, Barrow heard a few words spoken into the telephone. “There’s nothing under the one I bought, just plain white gesso. There was a Caravaggio under Grayson’s painting, lot thirty-four. But Barrow said it’s a fake. Of course, I believe him, why would he lie? Well, we may know who pa-painted it, but there’s not much we can do now. No, I don’t think we should confront…Not yet. I’ll think of something. But we still need him for the…” And the door slammed shut.

Barrow was outside, as he had been not long before, on the street, in the midst of a canyon of anonymous warehouses. In the aquatic night, the reflected blue sheen of the metal buildings seemed like great sea turtles floating in a darkest trench, leagues deep. Barrow had not noticed that one of the men with him had left, and now pulled up in the black Land Rover. Seems to be my mode of involuntary transport, he thought. The door was opened for him, and he entered. During the ride home, the front-seat passenger turned around and presented Barrow with a fat white envelope.

“With compliments and appreciation,” said the anonymous henchman. “You will be called upon at least once more. If you inform anyone about this, you will be killed. If you continue to cooperate, you will receive more. On behalf of our employer, we apologize for the threatening and melodramatic way in which you have been treated. We also apologize, in advance, for future such situations. That was a joke, Dr. Barrow.” The man wasn’t smiling.

Barrow opened the envelope. It was stuffed full of cash in large denominations. Barrow mustered an upturn of lip.

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