Searching for Edgar's Five Dancers

by Efren O'brien

  “I imagined what this might feel like as I drove you home that evening,” he said as he kissed her again.

  “How does the reality match up with your expectations? I hope you’re not disappointed,” she said.

  “No, not in the least,” Quinn said as he smiled. “It was definitely worth the wait,” he said. “You know now I’m gonna be hanging around the gallery…or at least when I know you’re there,” he said.

  “You’re always welcome here, you know that. And I hope to see much more of you,” she said.

  Chapter XIX

  Vitali Chetkin took a sip from his teacup while sitting in the ornate restaurant at the La Fonda Hotel, Santa Fe, New Mexico, in early March 1942. He had heard how backwards and unsophisticated Americans were, especially in the Western United States, but he was discovering just the opposite. Chetkin was impressed by the décor of brightly colored hand-painted clay tiles and the wood carvings of the La Fonda Hotel. The food and alcohol was good too, which made it all the more desirable. He was a Russian agent posing as a Hungarian art dealer in Santa Fe. For this mission, he had chosen the name Laszlo Tibor. Vitali also knew there was at least one Nazi agent in Santa Fe at that time, and he knew this agent’s identity—Marika Kraus.

  He was an odd-looking man, which made him an unlikely spy from any country. But that’s what made him so effective. He appeared absolutely harmless. As a short man, significantly overweight and mild in appearance who wore bifocals—a criminal of espionage was the last thing Vitali looked like. The different personas Vitali assumed were purposefully odd. Some were generally comical. But this was intentional and part of his act. Short, heavyset, and in his late 50s with a round face, Vitali played the role of a wealthy, well-traveled but naive, European aristocrat very well. The Russians were well aware that degenerate art, and stolen European Jewish art, was somehow making its way into New Mexico and Santa Fe. Vitali’s main assignment was to discover how the art was being smuggled into the United States; which pieces were in Santa Fe; where they were being stored; and for what purpose.

  But he had a secondary mission in Santa Fe. Chetkin was aware there was secret research being conducted by the military somewhere around Santa Fe. Unbeknownst to most American intelligence officers, Santa Fe had been used by Russian agents as a location to hide out and base their operations from for some time. Stalin’s agents had planned and launched the first assassination attempt on ex-Soviet dissident Leon Trotsky right from Santa Fe. The lead spy, Josef Grigelevich, was stationed here and with his team of agents, they traveled to Mexico to kill Trotsky in early 1940.

  Vitali Chetkin, alias Laszlo Tibor, was given a sizable budget for his role—to determine if the degenerate art was being funneled by the Germans through Santa Fe, and in what numbers. He was then to acquire the specific paintings and get them back through his contacts in New York to the U.S.S.R. What better way to start his mission than to engage the services of two American private detectives while using his cover…they, in turn, would help him locate the art. That’s what Laszlo Tibor was thinking the afternoon he walked into the office of Clark and Chase Private Investigatons for the first time.

  Ethan Clark was there when he came in. “Can I help you?” asked Clark.

  “Yes, I would like to talk to you and possibly engage your services to assist me in recovering some stolen art. My clients believe it has been brought here to Santa Fe,” stated Tibor.

  “Sit down, Mr.—”

  “My surname is Tibor.”

  “Is that a Russian name?” asked Ethan.

  “No, no, I am Hungarian. From Budapest, Hungary, sir,” replied Tibor.

  “May I offer you some coffee, tea, or a brandy?” asked Ethan.

  “No, thank you, sir, but do you mind if I smoke?” replied Tibor.

  “By all means….My name is Clark, Ethan Clark. So you are Hungarian…long way from home, out here in the American West Mr. Tibor,” said Ethan.

  “Well, yes, I suppose so…but I’ve been sent here for a specific purpose, sir. My clients, some of whom are from the wealthiest families in Hungary, are seeking to recover stolen oil paintings that are rightfully theirs. I have spent the last year tracing these paintings, and to my astonishment, the trail leads me here. Since I am a foreigner…I realize that enlisting the assistance of some local investigators might help my efforts immensely. I want to avoid involving the local police and…how you say it…stepping on toes here if I can help it,” said Tibor.

  “Interesting. I have a partner who is not here at the moment,” stated Ethan.

  “I wish to employ your entire firm to assist me,” said Tibor. “And I believe I can afford your retainer and whatever your rates are,” he said. “I’ve brought $300 with me today,” he said.

  “Well, our rates are $20 per day that we actually work on your case, plus expenses. We require an initial deposit of $100,” said Ethan.

  “Here, sir, take the entire $300. Work off that amount, and I’ll pay more when it is used up,” said Tibor.

  “Well, we may be able to help you, Mr. Tibor, but I’d like my partner, Mr. Chase, to meet you, and the three of us can discuss exactly what you want and any leads or clues you may already have,” replied Ethan. “I’m staying at the La Fonda Hotel, and I eat breakfast at 9:00 every morning in the hotel restaurant. Please, why don’t you both join me there for breakfast tomorrow morning in the restaurant,” said Tibor, as he moved towards the door to leave.

  “That sounds wonderful, Mr. Tibor. Expect myself and Mr. Chase tomorrow morning at the La Fonda at 9:00. I’m sure we’ll be able to help you in some manner,” said Ethan Clark as Tibor walked out the front door.

  When Quinn returned, he and Ethan spoke. “I’m not sure what to make of our new client, Laszlo Tibor. I don’t think I completely believe his story, but if he’s only tryin’ to locate some missing artwork, what’s the difference?” Ethan asked. “We’re in this to make a name for ourselves, help people out, but also to make money doing what we like, right?”

  “Something doesn’t sound right about this,” said Quinn, “but if he’s got the money…? Let’s meet with him at 9:00 tomorrow morning.”

  The following morning, Ethan and Quinn showed up at La Fonda on the Santa Fe Plaza. “Good to see you, gentlemen. Please have a seat. The view from this spot across the plaza is nice in the morning. The way the sun shines…I get the same table every day,” said Tibor.

  “Mr. Tibor, this is my partner, Quinn Chase,” said Clark as Quinn shook hands with Laszlo Tibor.

  “It’s nice to meet you, sir,” stated Quinn.

  “Call me Laszlo, please. My first name is Laszlo.”

  “Okay, fine Laszlo. While your project sounds very intriguing, I do have a few questions,” said Quinn.

  “By all means,” replied Laszlo.

  “To begin with, and I apologize for mentioning this, we need some verification of your identity. May we see your passport or visa authorization, please?” asked Quinn.

  “Of course, sir…actually I was expecting this,” replied Laszlo as he handed his fake passport to Quinn. “What I seek is the return of my client’s artwork, Mr. Chase. After all, that is what I have been hired for,” he said.

  “What specifically is missing, and why do you think it’s here in Santa Fe?” asked Quinn.

  “I was sent here to find several specific paintings. All were previously taken by the Nazis,” said Laszlo. “They are masterpieces and, by our standards, are beyond valuable. The Nazis took control of them and have funneled them for sale through the black market. The first one is by the French artist Degas, Edgar Degas. It is a pastel and beautiful example of 19th century Impressionism. Degas named the painting - Five Dancing Women. The next two are more recent, and the Nazis labeled them Degenerate Art. En Canot and Man with a Pipe. These two are by the Modernist French painter Jean Metzinger.” With that Laszlo pulled out photos of all three paintings.

  “My clients believe other paintings, and possibly sculptures, from museums in Ger
many and other countries have made their way to Santa Fe. In the scheme of things, Mr. Chase, Santa Fe may appear to be a sleepy small Catholic town, but there are many illicit activities taking place here. You may be wondering, Mr. Chase, why I would come all this way for three paintings. You should know, since I’m hiring you and Mr. Clark, that the paintings are considered priceless in the art world. I would think this would be important to you and the local police. And as I told your partner yesterday, I will pay you liberally for your services,” said Laszlo. “By cooperating together, we can do the right thing, save some of the world’s great art treasures, and…how you say…make a few nickels in the process.” Laszlo displayed a slight grin.

  “Where do you think the art is stored here?” asked Ethan.

  “I have no idea at this time, Mr. Clark. I do believe, however that a man by the name of Mr. Berndt Kruger, a wealthy German art dealer from New York, will be in Santa Fe within the next few weeks to pick up some of these paintings and move them to Los Angeles and then probably to South America. Kruger will be meeting with someone and collecting several paintings while here. My understanding is that there is great demand for these paintings in South America—Argentina, Paraguay, Bolivia, Brazil,” said Tibor.

  “How did you come about this information? Are you sure about his name, and how did you learn about him?” asked Quinn.

  “Mr. Chase, you are a man who asks many questions. Please bear in mind while I am hiring both you and Mr. Clark to work with me to locate these paintings, a certain amount of discretion must be shown by all parties. And while I will share much information with my ‘team,’ Mr. Chase, I also have my own methods of investigation that must remain private.”

  Quinn and Ethan looked at one another. Laszlo Tibor had proper identification, or at least what appeared to be proper identification, and seemed very sure of himself. He talked a good game. He was well informed and had done his homework. They finished eating and said their goodbyes. They felt good now because they appeared to be in the employ of a well off and generous client, and they were convinced Tibor’s story was real. In small part, it was real.

  Chapter XX

  The Santa Fe Police Department was located in the same building as City Hall. The police department was small compared to their larger neighbor, Albuquerque. “We’re running background checks on both you and your partner, so we’ll start with fingerprints and registering your firearms,” said Detective Frank Huff in the presence of several other detectives of the Santa Fe Police, in May 1942. “We should have had this discussion long before now, but better late than never,” said Huff.

  “We know about your backgrounds with the Albuquerque PD,” said the Santa Fe detective, as both Quinn Chase and Ethan Clark presented their handguns to him. Huff began to record the serial numbers from each handgun. “Well, listen up, men, and listen good,” Huff said. “I’m not a fan of PI’s in general. Investigations are what the police are for. I don’t even think you should be allowed to carry guns,” Huff continued.

  “We’ve got a quiet, safe town here, boys. And it’s gonna stay that way as long as I’m here, understand? We know about your little botched babysitting job for the Army down in Albuquerque,” Huff said. “I don’t even think two old retread detectives should be allowed to stick their noses in our business up here, but it’s a free country, and as long as you don’t interfere with our work on the force, I guess you can stay. But if I start getting reports of either of you stepping over the line…I’ll personally run both of you out of town and do my best to put you in jail.”

  “You don’t have to worry about a thing, detective,” Ethan replied. “We were cops once. We’re just here to help people out and try and make a living.”

  “Well, here’s the deal…the three of us will have a little monthly meeting here at the police department,” Huff replied. “I have to know what you’re working on, so like I said, you’re not getting too involved in police matters. So you will share with me your cases and the extent of your involvement,” he said.

  “We may not be able to reveal our clients,” said Quinn. “Most of our clients will not want us to reveal any personal information, and as you know, detective, certain things are confidential.”

  “Well, I want to know what you’re up to at any given time,” replied Huff. “And remember, gentlemen, I can shut you down in a minute—just remember that!”

  Huff took his time returning the men’s guns, making a show of signing the paperwork.

  “Do you have any information for me now?” Huff asked as he handed both Quinn and Ethan their revolvers back.

  “You ever heard of the term Degenerate Art, detective?” said Quinn.

  “No, can’t say that I have,” replied Huff.

  “Well, you might want to become acquainted with that term,” advised Quinn.

  “I’ll do that,” said Huff. “In the meantime, you two Dick Tracys stay out of my way, and be back in here next month on the 15th at noontime for our meeting,” Huff concluded.

  “Thanks, detective. We can’t wait,” replied Ethan, as he and Quinn got up to leave.

  “Remember, we’ve got eyes on you!” Huff said as Ethan and Quinn walked out of the police meeting room that spring day.

  “Boy, don’t you just love the warm welcome we’re receiving from the locals here, Ethan?” asked Quinn.

  “I expected that from the police. They are going to try and monitor what we do to some extent,” Ethan said. “Our investigation on various cases could easily overlap theirs. Remember, the PI’s in Albuquerque were always walking around the department, trying to get information from Lt. Smith. And Smith got tips from them as well. One hand washed the other Quinn. It’s a new game up here. There is no choice but to play by their rules and adjust,” he said.

  Chapter XXI

  Quinn returned to the hotel room he had been renting at the Santa Fe Inn that night around 8 p.m. Since he had only been in Santa Fe a short time, renting a room at the Inn seemed to be the best solution for lodging. He opened the door and walked in, and the room was entirely black with the drapes shut. That wasn’t the way he remembered leaving it.

  “Come in, Mr. Chase,” said the voice from the back of the room. He had heard this voice before. “Have a seat…I took the liberty of letting myself in,” came the alluring voice as the small table lamp was turned on.

  Marika Kraus was sitting on the small chair adjoining the round table with her legs crossed looking very alluring. On the table was a bottle of Old Forester Kentucky Bourbon, a container of ice, and two glasses. “Let’s have a drink or two for old time’s sake…what do you say?” she asked.

  “I didn’t realize the lock on the door was so easy to pick,” said Quinn. “I’ll have to talk to the front desk about that,” he said.

  “Who said it was easy?” Marika replied with a devilish smile as she poured the bourbon over ice and handed the glass to Quinn.

  “You know, you could have left a note under the door if you wanted to see me,” said Quinn.

  “I prefer the more direct approach, Mr. Chase,” she replied as she raised her glass and clicked it against his. “To your prosperity and health,” she toasted.

  “Great to see you. We really didn’t say goodbye properly before,” said Quinn. “What do I owe the honor to this time?” he asked.

  “Oh, I just wanted to meet with you and have a little talk about love, art, and your well-being,” she said. “It’s amazing how the three topics all intersect with one another.”

  Quinn downed his bourbon and soda in one gulp and took off his jacket.

  “You may not believe me, Mr. Chase, but among other things I can be a good friend to you,” Marika said. “And you may need a good friend in the near future. It has come to my attention that recently you’ve been in contact with a Mr. Laszlo Tibor,” she said.

  “So you’ve been following me?” Quinn asked as he poured himself another drink.

  “No, I’d never do that, but I have my little birdy friends her
e and there that chirp to me about various things they notice,” she said.

  “Okay, so sharing a meal with someone is worth notice?” Quinn asked.

  “To be forewarned is to be forearmed. I don’t know what he represents himself as…or why he’s in Santa Fe, but be very careful with that man. I’m here to give you that warning,” she said. “Remember, dear, I am here as your friend.”

  “And what is your basis for stating this warning about Tibor? How do you know him?” Quinn replied.

  “I can’t really go into it here. Let’s just say I’ve had business dealings with him before, and my experience brings me to this conclusion,” she said as she sipped her liquor. “He’s absolutely ruthless when he wants something,” she said. “If he’s asking you to help him look for various paintings, I’d turn the job down and go back to investigating cheating wives. He’s a dangerous man who should not be underestimated or trusted,” Marika said.

  Quinn was listening to her speak, but felt his eyelids getting heavy and his eyesight a little blurry. He became aware that he was falling asleep. Quinn said in a semi-groggy voice, “You’ve drugged me. Why?”

  “Listen to me.”

  He heard her voice as it started to fade and saw her devilish smile right before he blacked out.

  “I’m telling you this as a friend. I wouldn’t want you to involve yourself in something that could get you hurt,” she said. “Leave the art investigation alone and forget about crazy code names like The Merchant. Go back to resolving water rights and spying on cheating spouses, Mr. Chase. It’ll be better for your health in the long run.”