Then the orchestra started their tune, and she slowly transitioned into song. “A little bit of your time and attention, Monsieur! Will you come talk to me? Will you come walk with me? Will you come sing with me into the night, Monsieur? I only seek your time, let’s have a glass of wine, and get to know each other through the night, Monsieur. I don’t want opulence, I seek your confidence…let’s watch the moon glow in the starry sky, Monsieur.”
The tune accelerated in tempo as it went on, with all the instruments—drums, clarinet, accordion, and violin—joining in to keep the rhythmic, pulsating beat lively. It was a group dance scene with the other female dancers moving in unison, snapping their fingers, and repeating Mademoiselle Sadira’s phrases and movements at times. Sometimes dancing with her, and other times dancing behind her as she sang.
As for Quinn and Marika, they were captivated by the mysterious and alluring Sadira until the very end. The song was meant to be an invitation by Sadira for her lover to shower her with attention, money, and time. This, of course, with risqué and sexual innuendos and dancing mixed throughout. In the end, Mademoiselle Sadira and her group sat back down straddling their chairs, backrests facing the audience—all signaling for their lovers to join them in unison, curling their index fingers and beckoning their lovers forward. The lights dimmed to black, and the crowd—obviously pleased—again whistled loudly and cheered with approval.
The Master of Ceremonies was back onstage, and the band started to play an Umpa-Umpa two-beat tempo tune, where two different notes are repeated over and over again. He performed his own soft-shoe routine to the beat, singing and talking about a young woman as he danced. He danced for a few minutes, and then ended his dance routine as the performers that evening reappeared onstage behind him.
“Ladies and Gentlemens, I hope you have enjoyed our performance as we have tonight!” he yelled. “Lady Lavinia and her exotic women!”
Lady Lavinia and her group stepped forward, and brandishing mischevious smiles, bowed . “Ha!” he yelled again. The women rejoined the performers in line in the back. The crowd clapped, whistled and shouted with approval.
“Ha! Ha!...Giselle and Simon.” Both Giselle and Simon walked forward, each with one of the small poodles in their arms. They bowed to the crowd. Again the crowd applauded enthusiastically. They rejoined the line of performers behind the MC.
“And finally, Ladies and Gentlemen, Mademoiselle Sadira and her group of lovely ladies!” Mademoiselle and her fellow dancers stepped forward and bowed to the audience, acknowledging their loud applause and approval.
The lights began to brighten in the large room, but the MC was still speaking as the lights were raised. “Come please friends and attend our entire show at the Lensic Theatre next Wednesday and for two straight weeks. We hope you enjoyed our short presentation. Ha! Ha! We have much, much more for you!”
Quinn cheered and applauded with approval like the rest. Then he looked over briefly to his right, and saw him there. Quinn later couldn’t recall the final words of the eccentric Master of Ceremonies. He was too transfixed and staring at the familiar face off to his right with keen interest. Ethan Clark was about four tables over watching the burlesque show, and sitting at a table with some people Quinn didn’t recognize. The lights were fully on now, and the show was over. The band was still playing as the performers exited the stage as a group.
It was Ethan…he was sure of it. Marika drew his attention away briefly by grabbing his arm and exclaiming, “Fantastic! We must go see the whole show…what do you say?”
Quinn didn’t say a thing, but when he looked back to the right, Ethan was gone. In only a few seconds’ time, he had blended into the large crowd and soon afterwards disappeared from the bar as well. Did he see Quinn? Did he panic and leave? Quinn looked all over Alex’s as the crowd thinned, but Ethan, or someone Quinn had mistaken for Ethan, had vanished.
Chapter XXXVIii
On June 5, 1943, they met with Lt. Huff at the police station again. “Well, what’s happening this week in the lives of our town Dicks?” Huff mused. “Someday, I hope you have some useful information for me,” he said. “I would love to go back to my superiors and be able to justify your existence in Santa Fe,” Huff said sarcastically.
Quinn spoke out. “Well, Huff—”
“That’s Detective Huff to you, Chase,” Huff quipped. “When will you gain some respect for your superiors?”
“It just so happens we do have a lead we think you’re gonna find very interesting,” stated Quinn.
“It would have to result in an arrest for it to be interesting to me, Chase! Then again, as desperate as I am to find out what the hell’s going on in this town,…Well, what is it?” Huff arrogantly asked. “Unlike you two, I have a busy schedule and taxpayers to satisfy.”
“A large quantity of Degenerate Art was recently brought into Santa Fe, detective…if that is of interest to you!” Quinn retorted.
“Okay, I’m interested…tell me more!” responded Huff.
Quinn divulged what he had learned from Skitts Jones several days before. That the burlesque show was also a cover for smuggled Degenerate Art and a large amount had been brought into the city. And the troupe might be leaving with some when their show was finished at the Lensic Theater.
When Huff received this news, he made Quinn and Ethan stand by while he informed the Chief of Police. The Chief, Captain Sutherland then wanted to speak with Quinn and Ethan. “Thank you, boys, for this information,” the captain said. “May I ask where you got this information from?”
“It’s a very reliable source, sir, but I can’t be more specific at this time,” answered Quinn.
“You better start singing, detective, if you wanna’ keep the doors to your business open!” said Huff.
“Lieutenant,” said Captain Sutherland, “one thing you’ve never learned is the art of diplomacy…at any level. Please excuse Lt. Huff’s rudeness,” said the captain.
“What do you think we should do, boys?” asked Captain Sutherland.
“These most likely are paintings the Nazis have scarfed up from the countries they’ve invaded and the churches, museums, and civilian populations there. Much of it has come from the Jews the Nazis are rounding up and persecuting. These unfortunate people have lost everything. Also, this is art from the world’s great painters…Picasso, Van Gogh, Renoir, Matisse, just to name some of them. The stuff is very valuable, sir,” stated Quinn.
The captain looked at Detective Huff and said, “Despite my hesitation, this is your investigation, Lieutenant. Take whatever resources you need. We’ll get a search warrant signed. See if you can make a bust and recover the art. And, although I hate to bring them in on this, we probably should inform the FBI since this artwork was stolen and brought here and smuggled in from overseas,” said the captain.
Chapter XXXix
For the small city of Santa Fe, it was the “bust of all busts.” It was the most significant recovery of stolen property based on pure value in Santa Fe ever, and quickly became the talk of the town. Twelve of the world’s most sought after and expensive Modern works of art…stolen from their helpless Jewish owners in Europe and smuggled across the Atlantic Ocean all the way to this point.
Based on Skitts Jones’ tip to Quinn; and Quinn’s subsequent tip; Lt. Frank Huff had obtained a search warrant and planned a major raid on the burlesque troupe.
The police raided the burlesque troupe in their hotel rooms down the street from the Lensic Theatre, in the afternoon before their first performance. Lt. Frank Huff, “The Bumbler,” as he was called behind his back by other police officers, recovered 12 paintings and three small sculptures, all identified as Degenerate Art. The artwork included two sketches by Emil Nolde, Elfreide Lohse-Wachtler, and Paul Klee, and pastels by Gustav Klimt, Otto Dix, and Oskar Kokoschka. The artwork was found concealed inside the troupe’s equipment wagon. The Master of Ceremonies, Mr. Goran Sebo, was immediately arrested and charged by Lt. Huff and his team.
; Lt. Huff was so sure he would make a bust that day and recover significant amounts of stolen artwork, that he didn’t inform the FBI ahead of time as he was ordered to do, but he did notify two local newspapers. Many staged photos taken were poses of Huff holding up the paintings with his men. The headline of the New Mexican read, “Local Detective Uncovers Nazi Stolen Art!”
Lieutenant Frank Huff was now a celebrity of sorts, even though his detective skills had little to do with the discovery of this large quantity of stolen artwork. Huff publicly announced that the mystery of the Degenerate Art had been solved, and he and his men could now focus on more “important local” crimes and cases. As far as Huff was concerned, all Degenerate Art had been discovered in Santa Fe and all criminals who were responsible had been arrested and were soon to be brought to justice. The paintings and other works eventually would be turned over to the FBI who would do the best they could to find the rightful owners. In Huff’s mind, the case was solved and closed.
Chapter Xl
“But Goran is completely innocent. He had nothing to do with this! My show can’t go on without our main performer, Lieutenant…He is our Master of Ceremonies,” said the owner of the Cabaret Company to Lt. Huff. “He is essential for us.”
“Well, that’s too damn bad. He was the one who held the keys to the equipment wagon where the paintings were discovered, Sir!” said Huff. “How could he not know those paintings were there? Nobody could get access, load or unload that wagon without going through him first,” Huff said. “He stays in jail. Go hire yourself a good lawyer.” Huff laughed. “Maybe if you go plead with the Judge, he’ll let him out of jail for your show!”
The Cabaret Le Paradis was cancelled, or at least indefinitely postponed, one day before it was scheduled to open. The negative publicity of the police raid didn’t help ticket sales either. The owner was close to hysterics as Goran Sebo was arraigned in court. “I am going to lose thousands of dollars, Your Honor!” he said to the judge.
“Bail is set at $ 3,000!” the judge said as he pounded his gavel down.
“Your Honor, it will take me a week to get that kind of money,” the owner exclaimed.
“I’m sorry, sir,” said the judge. “But because you all travel around so much, I have to ensure Mr. Sebo remains here for his trial date. I really shouldn’t offer bail at all!”
So Goran Sebo remained in the Santa Fe City jail unable to post bond for his charges; Possession and Trafficking of Illegal Contraband, and Grand Larceny (Stolen Artwork). There weren’t many in the jail at that time. A few local drunks were brought in each night to sober up, and then they were released the following day. That was about it. Goran sat on the bench in his cell, counting the hours till dinnertime, and pondering his future as a performer with the show. Tomorrow night was opening night. Over 500 tickets had been sold. He was the Master of Ceremonies and the main performer, but Goran was aware of the saying, “The Show Must Go On!” The question in his mind was, will this show go on without me?
That night about 10:00 p.m. was when it happened. One of the two night jail guards briefly left to go home to care for his sick daughter. The other guard remained at the jail. The front bell rang, signaling someone outside was there wanting to speak to the guard. When the guard went to check the front entrance, he didn’t see a thing but the lit walkway outside. He turned to walk back to his desk when the bell rang again. This time the guard, unable to see anyone again, unlocked the door to look quickly outside. He briefly stepped through the door of the jailhouse entrance to see if anyone was there, when he felt a hard blow to the top of his skull. Everything was blurry as he was struck a second violent blow. Then all was black.
Goran Sebo, back in his locked cell, heard the bell ring twice and the commotion at the front of the jailhouse. He instinctively had an uneasy feeling. He was the sole prisoner in the jail. And he was powerless to do anything, locked in his cell. There was an access door the guards had to unlock and pass through to the prison cells in the back of the jailhouse, but Goran was still anxious. He then heard the access door unlock and squeak open. From where he was, he couldn’t view the access door, but he heard footsteps approaching on the tile floor. The next thing he saw was a man wearing a dark coat with a scarf tied around his mouth and nose, similar to depictions of old train robbers, step in front of the cell. Only the man’s eyes were visible. They stared at each other briefly.
Goran barely got the words out, “No! I won’t say anything,” But the figure raised his right hand, pointing a gun with a silencer directly at him. He simultaneously pulled the trigger. A red spot immediately appeared on Goran’s forehead and the pupils of Goran’s eyes dilated. The impact from the bullet knocked Goran back to the bench, extending out from the back wall held up by chains. Goran collapsed onto the bench.
The killer successfully completing his hit, calmly slipped the gun into the wide pocket of his coat, turned and calmly walked back to the front of the jailhouse to the front door. Goran’s body twitched and jerked for the next 40 seconds until it finally stopped. The guard on duty remained unconscious and sprawled out on the ground outside. The entire execution took only several moments to complete. The assassin appeared briefly at the front entrance, still wearing his facial cover, and remained unseen by anyone who could possibly give a description. He then slipped quietly away into the night.
Chapter Xli
“Why was he killed, Marika?” Quinn asked two days later. “I’ll tell you why…it was me. I’m responsible for that man…Goran Sebo’s death! I had a tip that I passed on to that idiot Huff at the police department. Huff and his boys went after him. I started the process that got this man killed!” said Quinn.
“You cannot blame yourself for this,” Marika said. “I’ve warned you several times that this art investigation is dangerous. I’m scared as well. He was killed because he knew too much and to keep him from talking…but about what?” she asked.
“Maybe he had some connection to The Merchant. This figure nobody knows anything about who’s supposedly controlling the illegal art that comes here,” Quinn said.
“Where are the paintings Huff recovered in his raid?” she asked.
“I have no idea,” replied Quinn. “My guess is the FBI has them.”
“These were also world-famous artists like Gustav Klimt, Picasso, and Monet. You know it’s possible that the police are in on this too,” she said.
“Not Huff,” said Quinn. “He’s not smart enough to figure any of this out. Maybe now that he made a bust he’ll go back and turn his attention to the local drunks and petty crooks stealing from the drugstores,” Quinn retorted.
Later that same day Quinn was back at the office talking with Ethan Clark. “What’s going on in this town, Ethan? Two killings now tied to these smuggled paintings.”
“I wish I had the answer to that question as well,” replied Ethan.
“Have you heard any scuttlebutt around town about this figure called The Merchant ?” asked Quinn.
“No. I’ve just been trying to solve Laszlo’s case and find that picture he wants so bad…Five Dancing Women. I’ve come up with a big zero on that so far,” Ethan said. “He just paid us another $300 dollars by the way, so I think I’ll be spending some more time on his case now.”
Ethan took a sip of his coffee. “You know it’s quite a coincidence that this Master of Ceremonies for the Cabaret is killed while in Huff’s custody at the jail,” Ethan said.
“Yeah, but Huff didn’t have anything to do with it,” Quinn said.
“You believe what you want to believe, buddy, but if Huff is part of this, then he certainly had a motive to keep this Goran Sebo quiet. And as we both know, there’s a failsafe way to make sure someone never sings again. I think Huff deserves a closer look,” said Ethan.
“Interesting hypothesis, Ethan,” said Quinn, “but my gut doesn’t tell me so.”
Ethan shrugged and returned to his paperwork.
“Speaking of singing, Ethan. How’d you enjoy the
festivities at the Cabaret show up at Alex’s last Friday night?” asked Quinn.
“Alex’s…what are you talking about?” replied Ethan.
“You know, the Cabaret show up at the bar last week…I saw you sitting at a table with some people up there,” Quinn said again.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’ve never been up to that place before, and I have no plans to ever go there, alone anyway . I’m a married man, Quinn. I don’t go out without my wife—you know that,” Ethan said.
“Oh, come on, I was sitting just off to your side about three tables over. It was you Ethan, and you were sitting with four other people I didn’t recognize.”
Ethan’s laugh sounded strained, and the grin was a weak attempt to hide either fear or concern. “I’m telling you, I don’t know what you’re talking about. And be careful what you say to Beth next time you see her. If she thinks I’m going out on her, that’ll be the end of my marriage. In fact, it would be the end of me!” Ethan said.
“Well, you must have a twin brother around you don’t know a thing about, that’s all I gotta’ say!” said Quinn.
“Maybe it’s the booze you’re drinking buddy,” replied Ethan. “I often wonder, my friend, how you can be as lucid as you are with as much as you drink. Down a few shots of the hard stuff and you start seein’ the darndest things!”
Chapter XLii
Amidst the craziness of events in Santa Fe, and to maintain his sense of emotional stability, Quinn gravitated towards Katrina. She was the one who he felt the most comfortable with and who could make sense of things in times of chaos. As the summer of 1943 moved into fall, they saw one another nearly every night. Quinn would show up around 7:00 each night, and he and Katrina would go walking around Santa Fe. Sometimes they would walk up Canyon Road, stopping to look at the artwork various artists would place on the edge of the street for the public to inspect. Sometimes they would walk to the north to Fort Marcy Park, formerly home to the US Army’s Fort Marcy. Even as the weather was getting cooler, there was a mysterious and odd beauty about the park. The change of seasons caused the trees to turn colors, showing beautiful shades of orange and yellow that couldn’t be found anywhere else in New Mexico. The two of them melded into this scene as they walked and talked late into the day.
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