by Marie Astor
A few moments later, a butler in a black suit and bowtie opened the door. From the brief look of recognition he gave Leonard, it was clear that he had seen him before.
“Mr. Bassand it expecting us,” Leonard said.
The butler nodded lightly. “Please, come in.”
Janet walked past the massive wooden door—marble floors, vaulted ceilings—Bassand was living in the lap of luxury.
“Please follow me,” the butler said quietly.
He ushered them into a sitting room with plush chairs and parquet floors.
“Mr. Bassand will be with you shortly.”
Janet exchanged a glance with Dennis—the walls were covered with valuable paintings. She was no art historian, but she instantly spotted several Degas, a Matisse, and even a small Rembrandt.
“This is not good,” Leonard whispered, visibly shaking.
“Lenny, get a hold of yourself,” Dennis hissed. “You’re shaking like a mad Chihuahua.”
“Yeah? Let’s see if your swagger holds up before Bassand,” Leonard snapped. “This is not good—not good!”
“What’s wrong, Leonard?” Janet asked. “Tell us, quickly.”
“This is Bassand’s treasured collection—he doesn’t show it to anyone. Oh, don’t get me wrong, he has the main room that he shows off at his fancy galas, but never this. I’ve never been in here before. All the works in here are stolen. The fact that he’s shown it to us, means he doesn’t intend for us to walk out of here alive.”
“Don’t be such a mouse, Leonard,” Dennis cut in. “Have you forgotten that we’re not here alone? The big brother’s got your back,” he added, alluding to the FBI.
“Tsk. Lots of good that will do. We’re cooked I tell you. Cooked!” Leonard sunk into a chair and covered his face with his hands.
“Snap out of it,” Dennis commanded. “Bassand is going to walk in here any minute.”
As if on cue the door opened, and the man who had to be none other than Armand Bassand entered the room.
“Forgive me for keeping you waiting.” Bassand barely acknowledged Leonard’s presence, as he instantly directed his attention to Janet and Dennis. “I am Armand Bassand, pleased to make your acquaintance.” He offered a smile that had about as much warmth in it as an icepack. He walked over to Janet and pressed her hand to his lips and then he shook hands with Dennis.
“Thank you for taking the time to meet with us,” Janet said. “It is truly an honor to meet you.”
“Oh!” Bassand waved his hand, an expression of mock modesty on his face. “There’s no need for such formality. We are, as the saying goes, among friends.” He pronounced each syllable with exaggerated clarity, sounding like a diction tape recording, which combined with his pleasant, but completely unreadable facial expression, made for an eerie effect.
“You’re very kind,” Dennis said. “And we really appreciate your taking the time to meet with us.”
“Oh, please. It is nothing—absolutely nothing. In fact, it is I who is grateful to you for coming. A drink?” he offered, gesturing to the bar in the corner.
“Thank you. Scotch neat, please,” Dennis asked.
“And for the lady?” Bassand inquired.
“The same, please,” Janet said.
Bassand didn’t bother asking Leonard for his choice of beverage and headed over to the bar. “If you know your scotch, and to me you look like the people who do, you’re going to enjoy this one.” He lifted up a bottle of Balvenie Scotch just long enough for Janet to see the number fifty on the bottle. She was no expert, but she remembered seeing in a magazine that a bottle ran for about thirty five grand, but then that was probably chump change for someone who traded stolen art works worth millions of dollars.
Still ignoring Leonard, who was shrinking further and further into the back of the armchair he was sitting on, Bassand handed Janet and Dennis their glasses. Then he poured himself one and took a seat in a chair across from them.
“To new acquaintances,” Bassand raised his glass in a toast and brought it to his lips. “Mmm. Exquisite, simply exquisite. I typically save this bottle for special occasions, and I believe tonight certainly qualifies as one.” He paused. “How do you like it?” he asked, his eyes burrowing into Dennis.
“It is an excellent choice indeed,” Dennis agreed. “I believe you’ve just made a convert out of me.”
“Huh!” Bassand’s laugh was sharp like a bark. “The finer things in life can certainly be addicting,” he added. “Like art for example. If you are art lovers like me, you’re bound to enjoy my collection.” He got up from his seat and made a sweeping gesture with his arm. “Years of hard work. A story behind each painting,” he said wistfully, looking almost melancholic.
“It is a very impressive collection indeed,” Janet agreed. From her prep meeting with the FBI, she could tell that at least several artworks were on the world-wide missing list, their thefts attributed to Bassand.
“Oh, that is so kind of you. I’m so pleased to hear you’re enjoying it.” Bassand bowed slightly, a proud smile on his face. “Now, do you think that I would’ve amassed all this if I were someone who could be swindled like a school boy?” he asked, his voice smooth as silk.
“Of course not,” Dennis cut in. “And that’s why we came here tonight—to discuss our business proposition with you.”
“I was speaking to the lady,” Bassand said sharply. His dark stare locked on Janet. “It was very clever of you—very clever indeed to come up with that little scheme of yours. But if you think you’re going to get away with it, you’re mistaken. My former protégé, Leonard, might’ve made a fool of himself, but do not make the mistake of projecting the pupil’s ineptness on his former patron.”
Janet took a deep breath, instantly understanding why Leonard had been so afraid of Bassand—she’d dealt with her share of tough criminals, but it took a psychopathic megalomaniac to be talking about himself in third person. No wonder Leonard looked paler than death. “We are here because we have a proposition for you,” Janet said in a cool tone.
“Is that so?” Bassand asked. “I certainly hope your proposition involves returning the painting to me.”
“I can’t do that,” Janet said flatly.
Bassand clenched his fingers around his glass so tightly, his skin turned white. “And why is that?” he asked in a low, silky voice that was a thousand times scarier than a yell.
“Because we sold it. Our buyer offered us twice what you were going to sell it for. Naturally, we’re going to share the profit with you fifty-fifty,” Janet replied calmly, trying not to think about the fact that her armpits were getting damp in the designer dress Leonard had picked for her.
“This is getting interesting. I must say, it has been a long time since I’ve been addressed in such a manner,” Bassand said slowly, as though deciding between being annoyed or amused. “And what would the figure be?”
Janet named the amount they had cleared with the FBI. To bait a highly sought after criminal like Bassand, the bureau was prepared to shell out some serious cash.
“And how would the funds be transferred to me?” Bassand asked. Not a single facial muscle had changed in his expression, but the grip on his glass had relaxed.
“Cash or wire transfer if you prefer. But first, I’d like to tell you about the second part of our plan,” Janet added.
Bassand patted his chin, half laughing. “There’s a second part? I haven’t even agreed to the first one. What makes you think that I will accept this offer and disappoint my buyer? I have a reputation to maintain and that costs a lot more than what you offered.”
“Hear us out. We have a partnership proposition for you,” Janet pressed on confidently, ignoring the growing clamminess under her armpits.
Bassand launched into uncontrollable laughter. “A partnership? Is there no end to your presumptuousness? Please, go on. This is highly amusing.” He lifted his glass to his lips and drained it in one quick gulp.
“It will be
even more amusing when you hear the whole plan,” Dennis cut in.
Bassand’s expression grew stone cold as he measured Dennis with a contemptuous gaze. “Who said you could talk?”
“We work as a team,” Janet said firmly. “Dennis is my partner on this. The plan isn’t workable without him.”
“My, my, you seem to be very good at making demands.” Bassand shook his head. “It’s all I’ve heard since you entered my house. Your self-assurance is admirable. I must give you that.”
“Self-assurance is justifiable when it’s based on facts,” Janet said boldly. “How would you like to add the Eternal Light to your collection?”
Bassand stared back at her, his expression unchanged. “It’s impossible,” he said gruffly. “Just because I haven’t thrown you out due to my curiosity, does not mean that I have an inexorable supply of patience. I suggest you stop wasting my time.”
“It is possible,” Janet urged. “The Eternal Light can finally be yours.”
Bassand’s skin turned a shade paler and his eyes narrowed. “How could you possibly know about that?”
“I like to do my research,” Janet said matter-of-factly. “And I should think a man like yourself would welcome an opportunity to settle scores.”
“Vengeance is not in my nature.” Bassand’s tone turned languid and his eyelids became half-closed. He was trying very hard to look at ease.
“Of course not,” Janet agreed. “But personal satisfaction is. And we have a way to grant it. We have a way to get to the Eternal Light—we thought it’d be a fitting exchange for the Monet.”
“The diamond?” Bassand asked in a reverential whisper, his clearly constructed façade dissipating like smoke. “How could you possibly know where it is? The last I’ve heard of it is the Saudis guard it like hawks in some underground bunker, watched day and night by an equivalent of an army battalion.”
“So you’ve kept track—then you are interested,” Janet said slowly.
“Provided you have real information, yes. But I don’t see how that’s possible. As I’ve said, the Eternal Light is impossible to get to. The Saudis would never let it out of their sight—it’s said to be priceless.”
“Was impossible to get to,” Janet corrected. “Everything has a price. These are tough economic times, even for the Saudis. The sheik sold the Eternal Light to Daniel Garrett and it is now on the United States’ soil.”
“The Daniel Garrett?” Bassand asked.
“The famously reclusive self-made billionaire is one of the few in this world who could afford the price tag,” Janet replied. “The Eternal Light is now part of Garrett’s collection. He is going to unveil his latest trophy with much pomp and circumstance at a gala in his mansion.”
“I’m listening.” Bassand’s face might have been a mask of calmness, but his hands betrayed a twitch of excitement.
“I can get us an invitation to the gala and I can arrange for a private viewing of the Eternal Light before the reception.” As she spoke, Janet noticed Bassand’s cold expression melt into one of admiration. Securing a private invitation to Garrett’s mansion was no small feat. “Garrett is quite the art connoisseur and your reputation precedes you, so he’d be very excited to meet you face to face. If you’re interested, we’ll need to act quickly. The reception is two weeks away.” Janet paused and waited for Bassand’s answer.
Bassand’s glance shifted briefly to Leonard who was cowering in his seat, looking ready to merge with the armchair he was sitting on. “I believe I’ve misjudged you after all, Leonard—there might still be hope for you yet,” he said magnanimously. Then Bassand’s eyes zeroed in on Janet. “You have my undivided attention.”
***
“How did you swing that one?” Leonard was gasping with excitement as he climbed into the car with Janet and Dennis.
Dennis quickly gave the driver the directions and the car took off. He then pressed the button to raise the glass partition between the driver and passenger seats.
“I thought Bassand was going to have us skinned alive, and here you’ve gone and turned him into a partner. That takes balls, my friends. I give you that,” Leonard prattled on.
“It takes research and preparation, Lenny. And last time I checked, we’re not your friends,” Dennis said sharply. “I don’t know about you, but I don’t consider people who break into my apartment to be my friends, ever.”
“Oh, excuse me for trying to lighten the mood a bit,” Leonard shot back. “For someone who hardly said a word in there, you sure have a lot to say. Janet was the one who did all the talking in there, so I’d like to hear it from her. How’d you find out about the diamond, Janet? And how did you know Bassand would be interested?”
“The bureau told us about the diamond,” Janet said simply. “It was Bassand’s first big job, more than twenty years ago. He crashed and burned badly. He almost got caught, but managed to get away. His crew, however, did go to jail for a long time. Based on Bassand’s psychological profile, Agent Norris believed that he’d take the bait and they were right—he’s got an ego the size of the Empire State Building. Then it was just the matter of feeding him the information correctly to seal the deal.”
“So you knew about it ahead of time?” Leonard sounded taken aback. “I thought you were improvising on the go.”
“Lenny, this is a federal investigation,” Dennis pointed out. “There’s no room for improvisation.”
“Dennis is right,” Janet confirmed. “The bureau supplied us with the necessary information to get Bassand to take the bait. We had a prepared script and we needed to execute it precisely.”
“But why was I left in the dark?” Leonard demanded. “I nearly had a heart attack in there! You could’ve given me a hint or something. I’d just aged ten years in there.”
“Information given to you is on the need-to-know basis,” Dennis said sharply. “And you didn’t need to know.”
“Says who?” Leonard demanded.
“Says the FBI,” Dennis slammed him down. “Perhaps you’d like to take it up with them. That and the conditions of your promised immunity from prosecution.”
“Says Mr. Authority who nearly blew the deal,” Leonard muttered, crossing his arms on his chest.
“What are you blabbering about?” Dennis demanded.
“You, my friend, need to work on your delivery. Bassand wasn’t buying it. I’m pretty sure he hates your guts.”
“Who asked your opinion?” Dennis bristled.
“It’s not my opinion—it’s a statement of the fact. Bassand doesn’t like you—you rub him the wrong way,” Leonard said testily. “I suggest you work on your attitude if you want this whole thing to work.”
“Gentlemen!” Janet raised her hands in a referee gesture. “Enough of this. Bassand tried to play us—to see if I’d chuck Dennis and go solo with him. It’s an old trick. We need to stay focused and we need to stick together. We’ve got a big job to pull off.”
“Yeah, that brings me to my next question,” Leonard pressed on. “What the heck are we going to do now that you got Bassand to take the bait? Can you really get access to the Eternal Light?”
“The bureau will instruct us on what to do next,” Janet said matter-of-factly. “They have a plan and we are helping them execute it.”
“Let me guess, it’s on the need-to-know basis?” Leonard sulked.
Dennis chuckled. “Exactly right, Lenny. You’re a quick study.”
Chapter 10
The next morning, Janet and Dennis had barely walked through the doors of Kirk & Associates when Anne informed them that Ham was already waiting for them in his office.
Dennis checked his watch. “It’s not even nine a.m. yet. Did he say what it’s about?”
Anne shook her head. “I have no idea. It seems the entire agency has been turned on its head with this new case you’re working on. Ham asked me to come in half an hour earlier until further notice—can’t say I’m thrilled about it, but I need this job.”
“Sorry to hear it, Anne.” Janet squeezed Anne’s shoulder. “We’d better not keep Ham waiting.”
Janet exchanged glances with Dennis as they headed straight for Ham’s office. They had quickly briefed Ham last night on their successful meeting with Bassand. What could’ve possibly happened since then to warrant Ham’s summons first thing in the morning?
The door to Ham’s office was open and he could see Janet and Dennis approaching while seated at his desk. “Come in, come in,” he called out excitedly.
“Good morning, Ham.” Dennis waited for Janet to walk inside and closed the door behind them.
“Good morning. Apologies for the rush, but I have urgent news. I spoke with Agent Norris this morning—the bureau is very pleased with your performance last night. They are ready to implement the next phase of the plan.”
“That’s great,” Janet said excitedly. “I have to say last night, it seemed touch and go for a while, but once we mentioned the diamond, it was all smooth sailing. Agent Norris was right—Bassand is still smarting from his failure all those years ago.”
Ham nodded. “Excellent work. Now, the next phase is to introduce Bassand to Garrett. The bureau has a meeting scheduled with Garrett today and your presence is requested there.”
“They actually got Garrett to work with them?” Dennis asked. “From what I know, this guy is a famous recluse.”
“That he is, but he also happens to be a great art lover. Garrett is the anonymous donor of the Monet painting that you so luckily purchased,” Ham explained. “When the bureau reached out for his help, he was only too glad to oblige.”
“I imagine he could use some excitement in his life,” Dennis quipped.
“You’ll have the opportunity to find out when you meet him today at the bureau’s offices at three p.m.,” Ham said.
“Great. I’m looking forward to it. Is there anything else? If not, I’ve got to get to my desk—I’m swamped.” Dennis moved to get up from his chair.
