Page 112 of Caper Crush
“That’s a high boyfriend standard. Should I come help you next time you have a catering gig?” William asks. “Did you stay upstairs? Or were you with them?”
“I was still upstairs, cleaning up,” she says.
Behind Miju is a framed movie poster of Hitchcock’sRear Window. Penelope does a lot of playacting when she writes. Actresses must do the same.
“My writer friend acts out scenes to figure out the positioning and the emotions she feels doing the scenes. One time she had to steal a painting, and she practiced that by stealing a painting at her boyfriend’s house. How’s Lena’s role as a thief going? Did she practice stealing to get into the role?”
Miju’s eyes widen. “How did you know?”
“I was at that party where the paintings were stolen,” I say. “Lena stole the paintings, didn’t she?”
I hear William’s indrawn breath, but I keep my eye contact with Miju.
Miju’s face turns bright red. “She was just practicing. She returned the paintings, obviously.”
I’m shaking. Lena stole the paintings.
“Of course.” I can’t believe I can say that so smoothly. “At Edmund’s suggestion?”
“Yes. He said she could practice—that the paintings were in the closet, wrapped up, so nothing could happen to them. She was a bit disappointed that it wasn’t more cloak-and-dagger and that she didn’t have to take them off the wall,” Miju says. “But she returned them. She’s not the one who stole the paintings in real life.”
William’s hand grips my thigh. I cover his hand with mine.
“Did you help her take the paintings?”
“No.” Miju shakes her head emphatically. “I didn’t even know she was doing it. She only told me all about it afterward. After the police questioned us. She knows I would’ve told her not to do that. I can’t believe Edmund told her it was okay.”
“Why did she tell you then?” William asks softly.
“She wanted to know if I’d seen anything. She was so proud of herself for stealing them without anyone noticing.” Miju rolls her eyes.
“How come you didn’t tell the police about the practicing?” I ask.
“Edmund said we shouldn’t. That it would just make Lena look guilty when she hadn’t actually stolen the paintings. And divert attention from the real thief. But I really would have preferred to tell the police. She only told me after the questioning. I wasn’t even involved. But I’m worried that Edmund gave her, and me, the wrong advice. I read this article that people get prosecuted for the cover-up.” Miju wrings her hands.
“How does she know she returned them?” William asks.
“She said she put them back in the closet,” Miju says. “I mean, first she loaded up the car with all the stuff from the cart, but she left the paintings in the cart. Then she took the cart back to the apartment and put the paintings back.”
“But you didn’t see any of it?”
“No, I was still upstairs, packing up the rest of the stuff. She brought back the catering cart. I loaded it up again with what remained, and we left.” Miju suddenly looks as if she’s sobering up. Her eyes widen. “You guys look really serious. We should have told the police, right?”
“I think so.” My hands curl into fists on my lap under the table. If they had confessed, maybe we would have found the paintings immediately. I glance at William. He rubs my back.
“Can I get you guys another round?” William asks.
Everyone gives their drink orders.
“I’ll help you carry them,” I say to William. “We’ll be right back.”
“So it’s Edmund,” I say when we’re at the bar.
“You did suspect him from the beginning.”
“I can’t believe they didn’t tell the police this,” I say. “How much trouble are they going to be in?”
“I don’t know,” William says. “He must have switched the paintings with the framed photos when she went to get the car.”
