Page 106 of Sinful Crimes for the Artistically Inclined
Percy licked his lips and looked away. “Does he?”
“And you know my mother really likes you.”
“I really like her too.” He took a long drag on his cigarette, puffing out, “Get to the point.”
“I know you’ve done dangerous things before, but Percy, if they knew I was giving you this job…”
He grinned at Luca. “I won’t breathe a word.”
Luca glanced at his little brother, who was saying something that made Joe smile one of his ravishing smiles, drawing Percy deep into his own spiteful assessment of the situation, as he tried to figure out what the hell was going on out there. Why the actual fuck didn’t Joe look annoyed? Why was Giordano being so charming?
Then the idea dawned on him, dimly at first, then with a small, excitable trepidation.
Was a threesome on the cards?
Luca’s voice rudely called him back to reality. “If I give this to you, please don’t die.” Percy gave a slight nod, which didn’t spark a great deal of confidence in Luca, but he threw the folder across the table anyway.
Being an art historian and an expert on the supernatural, Percy already knew the painting’s dark history, but he kept his cover—that of a serious gentleman thief (when he wasn’t murdering people in cold blood), not that of a man given to superstition—and he let Luca explain the basics. “You see in the picture, there’s the dead mother, and there’s a little girl. She knows her mother just died, and she’s very sad.”
“Yes, I can see that,” Percy drawled, just as an art historian might when a philistine explains a painting to them.
Luca glared, but carried on. “One of them, we don’t know which one, but one of them is not well.”
“I should think not.”
Becoming a little less patient, “Stop talking and start listening. This is the dangerous part.” Luca remained very stern until Percy humoured him with a tight smile. “If you ever get stuck in a room with this painting, whoever it is that comes out of that picture, you won’t live to tell me about it.”
“Oh really?” Percy blew out a challenging waft of smoke. “Then how come the owner’s still alive to tell the tale?”
“Because he knows. He keeps it locked away. He won’t let anyone near it, unless,” and here Luca lowered his voice to its most confidential, “unless he wants someone gone.”
Percy leaned forward. “He has this little girl do it?”
Luca nodded. “He invites someone to stay over. Or he has it quietly decorate an office or a hotel room. Or he gifts the thing, then takes it back once the job is done.”
Percy gave an evil-sounding cackle. “That’s brilliant.”
“Brilliant,” Luca conceded, “but now my client’s got wind of it, and they want this picture. That’s why you need to steal it.”
Percy narrowed his eyes. “And who might your client be?”
“My client might be a secret,” Luca deflected. “And yours is not to ask. You’re a very expensive delivery service, nothing more, nothing less, and that’s an end to it.”
“Hmmm.” Percy reflected with a tap of his cigarette ash. “I don’t much like the thought of a work like this being in a private collection.”
“It’s killed three gallery security guards already.”
“Fair point.”
“That’s why the fake was made. That’s why it sits in the gallery now. The gallery knows all about it. Even you knew about it. But that’s how bad this thing is. You need to think very carefully before you take this job?—”
“I’ll take it.”
“You’ll have a hell of a time getting hold of it in the first place, but then transferring her?—”
“I’ll take it. Fifty percent upfront. When will it be in the bank?”
“Within the week. But I’m keeping ten percent.”
