Page 10 of Caper Crush
“We’d taken them down from the wall and packed them up to go—in the office,” Takashi says.
The office is a tiny space that probably served as a maid’s room in former times. It’s right off the kitchen, near the front door.
“We noticed today because I went to get your painting and the Kimimoto,” Uncle Tony says.
“Oh no, your cottage—what are you going to do? Was the painting insured?” I ask.
“I didn’t renew the insurance. Vinnie said he had an immediate buyer.” Uncle Tony hangs his head.
My breath hitches.
I. Can’t. Even. Fathom. This.
“Anyway, we’ve given the police a list of who attended the party,” Takashi says. “They’ve fingerprinted the place and will run it against their database.”
Uncle Tony’s living room must have been difficult to dust for fingerprints.
“They’ll report it to various art loss registries,” Takashi says.
“And it will be public,” I say. I’m not ready yet for that. “I have to call Jade.”
“I’m so sorry, Miranda.” Uncle Tony sits next to me on the chaise lounge and puts his arm around me. “It never occurred to me that it would be stolen. And at the party. Those people are all our close friends. It doesn’t make sense.”
“It’s also your dream cottage.” My eyes tear. “I’m so sorry. Do the police think they might find it?”
“Like looking for a needle in a haystack,” William says.
“Are you playing the voice of doom?” I ask. And immediately regret it.
“Miranda.” Uncle Tony’s tone holds a note of reprove.
“They said it was a victimless crime.” Takashi shakes his head.
“Victimless?” I nearly screech. “It’s my break. It’s your house in the mountains.” Those paintings were our dreams.
“Officer Johnson seemed capable,” William says. “He certainly grilled Uncle Takashi and Tony pretty thoroughly.”
“The police are very capable. But art thefts are not a huge priority. What with budget cuts.” I stand. I can’t sit still any longer. “We need to do our own investigation.”
“I think the police can handle it,” William says gently.
Uncle Tony hangs his head. “I should have renewed the insurance.”
“We agreed that we wouldn’t,” Takashi says. “It’s not your fault.”
Uncle Tony wrings his hands. Cleo comes over and puts her snout on his knee. He pets her absentmindedly. “Maybe we should do our own investigation, especially since you helped solve that one art theft, Miranda.”
“But that’s because we doubted the provenance of that painting, and I was researching it, and then a stolen painting with similar brushwork to the fake painting was offered for sale.” I don’t want to get Uncle Tony’s hopes up.
“I’ll ask my friends to keep an eye out to see if there’s any mention on the dark web, but that’s not likely. They’re not exactly Picassos,” Takashi says.
“Can I see the party guest list?” I ask.
“Yes, I sent it to the police.” Takashi shows me a list on his phone. “I’ll email it to you.”
“We contacted the building management company to get the security footage from the hallway,” William says.
“That’s good.” My phone beeps. It’s a text from the moving company that my two paintings have arrived safely.
