Page 27 of Gentleman Sadist

Robert made the round of introductions before Benjamin began updating them on the most recent theft. “Our biggest issue, once again, is timeframe. They’ve got no clue when the painting was removed from the premises.”Jesus. What a cluster.Benjamin continued, “The curator, one Liz Dickson, told me the painting wasn’t on view due to restoration of the frame. When they went to pull it from storage—which is onsite—this morning, they couldn’t find the container it had been stored in.”

Bastards had taken everything. Which meant they’d find no evidence.

“When was the last time it was seen?” Duncan asked.

Benjamin shrugged. “I’ve requested the logs be made available for us when we get there.”

Museums tended to be meticulous with record keeping when it came to their art. Especially priceless pieces. Although they had run across one or two that were a shit show with incomplete records or none at all.

Benjamin reached out, handing him a picture of the stolen art. “The Annunciation by Marcello Venusti.” Benjamin scratched his chin. “Whatissurprising is the Museum houses expensive art and none of that was touched.”

“That we know of.”

Benjamin nodded. “Very true.”

Robert leaned forward handing the grainy black and white picture of the stolen artwork to Duncan.

“What is the value of the artwork?” Damian stared at the image.

“Unknown at this time.”

Duncan frowned. “They’re going through a lot of effort to steal one painting, especially for not knowing the value.”

That was for damn sure. Most heists involved considerably higher amounts of goods. Like in 1990 when Boston’s Isabella Stewart Gardner Museum was robbed. Thirteen objects were taken, including rare Rembrandt, Degas, and Vermeer valued at 500 million dollars. The case was still unresolved even with a five-million-dollar reward being offered. The case currently sat at number two on their top ten and to this day had been considered the largest property crime in the United States.

“It’s random,” Benjamin added.

But it wasn’t.

People were rarely random. They liked following some sort of pattern or routine. Hell, they thrived on it. It’s why the FBI and other law enforcement officers hired profilers to help with serial killers and other cases. They were missing something. Something simple and easy and it was driving Robert crazy, making him overthink everything. It was yet another reason he had Duncan brought in. Someone with his background and knowledge of criminals might see something they were missing.

For the remaining forty minutes of the flight, Duncan continued to read through the file, making notes as he went while Robert dissected the evidence in his mind once again.

“Where will we land?” Robert asked the pilot.

“A park behind the museum off Ponce de Leon Blvd. Miami PD has cleared the area,” the pilot announced. “From there, you’ll have to walk.”

Ten minutes later they were on the ground and walking the short distance to the Museum. It was a spectacle. Reporters and gawkers were hanging out by the bright yellow caution tape the police used to prevent visitors from gaining entrance to the building. Both sides of the streets were packed with police. They didn’t do discreet very well.

He turned to Duncan. “Will the journalists or the cameras be an issue for you?”

The man smirked. “Not at all. I’m not hiding from anyone.”

Robert nodded as they continued to where the police stood. They flashed their badges and ducked under the tape. One of the officers pointed them to where the curator of the museum and current protector of the priceless works of art stood with the detectives.

The curator wrang her hands as she spoke to the man in front of her. Robert bet she was recounting the events as she knew them since the officer was writing away on his little notepad. She seemed overly agitated and panicked, but given the situation, he’d be more suspicious if she’d been calm.

Benjamin approached the duo, while Robert took a moment to survey the area to get a feel of the location. Nothing odd jumped out at him. He found a map at the door of the museum then scanned through it to get a lay of the land of the exhibits.

Out of the corner of his eye, he glimpsed Benjamin approaching. “Whenever you’re ready, they’ll take us to where the painting was housed.”

“Did she give you the date on when the last time someone touched or saw the painting?” Robert folded up the map to keep as evidence.

Benjamin tapped his notebook with his pen. “She hesitated when I asked.”

Robert cocked a brow. “Interesting.” Although it didn’t necessarily mean she was guilty, she was edgy. The question was why. Was she a high-strung individual or was she involved? Or, could it be, the museum didn't keep stellar records and she was going to be called on her incompetence? Robert hoped it was the first point and not the last two. Especially not the last one. It'd make their job damn near impossible.

“However, she promised to have that and the list of current and old employees to us before we left,” Benjamin added.

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