"Yeah and more than likely that's what killed him," Lavina said.
"So what do we do with it?" Barrie asked.
"Put it back in the cellar," Steve said. "It's the safest place we've got. If the police didn't find the cellar, nobody will. Just make the cupboard appear unused. Toss a bit of dirty junk and paint tins in the front. Also, when the back door is shut, make sure any cracks are covered in dirt and grime."
"Then what?" Lavina asked.
"We go and talk to Simon Aikin. We do everything through him. I don't trust Detective Stein one bit."
"And I say we do it straight away before this all gets out of hand," Lavina added.
She glanced around but nobody disagreed. Even Cathy had a solemn expression as Steve placed the Rubens back in the frame. Barrie re-nailed the crate and they placed it back in the wine cellar.
*
Simon Aikin smiled at the detective sitting across the room. He reached for a pile of documents, peeled off the top four and tossed them across the desk.
"That's it, Pat," he said. "The sworn affidavits of Lavina Ryland, Steve Garnet, Janice Ludlow and the daughter, Cathy Ryland, on the events over the weekend the Cessna crashed killing Grant Ryland."
He glanced at the sergeant and held another document. "This one will be held on file."
"What's that?" Stein asked.
"Two official complaints from Lavina and Janice about police harassment. They claim proper procedures weren't followed when you interviewed them. I believe they're also considering a complaint about the search through their personal property on the farm."
He waited as Stein read the contents. "You've been busy haven't you, Simon?"
The lawyer nodded and continued, "In exchange of an agreement to accept these affidavits and refrain from subjecting them to any further interviews, the two young woman we're discussing are prepared to give you information that could be advantageous to another inquiry in which you're participating."
"Oh come off it," Pat said. "What do they know?"
"Do you agree not to harass them again?" Simon was enjoying himself. It wasn't often he had this conscientious but ruthless detective almost grovelling in his office.
"We're building a case against Janice Ludlow." Stein scowled and stabbed a finger at the lawyer. "That is confidential, Simon."
"For sure," Simon replied. "But no heavy handed stuff. Everything will be done above board. Agreed?"
"Okay, I agree. What have you got?"
"The stolen Rubens," Aikin replied softly.
"What!" Pat gasped and grabbed the arms of his chair, half lurching himself up. "Where?"
"They have it on the farm and are prepared to hand it over to the police"
"Shit!” Stein replied. "We searched the place over and found nothing. Where was it?"
"They didn't say," Simon said, grinning. "Is that worth putting the other case on the back burner for a while?"
*
Whereas district farmers would notice a police or military helicopter, the giant one that landed behind the farmhouse on Upper Forks Road had been hired from a local agricultural company and didn't look out of place in the district.
The four police officers and two civilians were met by the farm's inhabitants and escorted into the implement shed where Stein introduced Doctor Andre Van den Waardt, curator of the Metropolitan Art Gallery and his assistant, an austere plump woman in her late forties.
"There it is ladies and gentleman," Lavina stated in a serious voice and pointed to the crate sitting on a bench. The end was already open so the end of the painting's frame could be seen inside.
The two curators could barely cover their excitement as they slid the painting out to expose the Rubens landscape.
"It looks genuine," Van den Waardt stated, "However, I'll need to examine it."
He held it as if he was carrying eggs and strolled over to a brighter area by the door. He placed it on another bench, produced a magnifying glass and examined the corners. For several moments, he muttered and discussed items with his assistant before glancing up and smiling.
"It's genuine," he stated in a quiet voice. "In perfect condition, too." His eyes swept the small group around him. "Thank you all for your efforts. We thought we'd never see it in this country again."
"Could we have a word inside, please?" Stein's boss, Inspector Harold Matthews said. After they were seated in the sitting room he continued. "What I am about to ask you has a degree of danger but you will be protected in every way possible," he began
"Go on, inspector." Steve glanced at Lavina who nodded but couldn't hide an apprehensive scowl.
"We want to catch the people responsible for this theft, Mrs. Ryland. We know your late husband was just a small time participant in the robbery. We guess he was paid to store the painting here for a few months and afterwards deliver it to a smuggler after all the searches had been down scaled."
"So that's what the farm search was for?" Barrie asked.
"Yes. We believe Ryland tried to hold the painting for ransom, perhaps to get a larger cut, and he was killed in a revenge type killing."
"But why would they do that if Grant still had the painting hidden?" Lavina asked. "Surely they would have got it back before murdering him."
"You're perceptive, Mrs. Ryland. That's what we don't understand ourselves. These crime syndicates often have their own strict code of behaviour. Perhaps your husband broke it and, in the syndicate's mind, deserved to be punished."
"What do you want us to do?" Steve asked.
"We have a copy of the Rubens in the helicopter," Matthews said. "You or I couldn't tell the difference between it and the genuine product. We want to substitute this for the real one and leave it on the farm."
"I don't want my family or friends put in any danger, Inspector," Lavina said. "We've had more than our fair share of excitement lately."
"Fair enough," Matthews said. "We plan to have undercover agents on the farm all the time. One can be employed as a worker to help Barrie out while the others will maintain constant watch over the farm. They'll be disguised as hunters, trampers etc., and will discreetly come and go so neighbours won't notice anything out of the ordinary. We'll also be setting up electronic communications and tracking devices to cover the farm. The fake painting also contains a tracking device."
"And what do you expect to achieve, Inspector?" Janice asked.
"We want them to steal the painting back so we can follow it and catch the big minds behind the theft, not just the small local hoods doing the bit pieces."
"Like my late husband."
"Exactly, Mrs. Ryland. The biggest risk will be by Mr. Dey who will be on the property all the time but we will also be providing protection for everyone else during the operation." He stopped and waited for his words to be digested. "This is our chance to catch an international syndicate but we need your cooperation for it to work."
"Can we have more details on the level of risk and protection to be provided before we make a decision?" Lavina asked.
"Sergeant Stein will go through everything with you," Inspector Matthews replied.
He sat back while the sergeant stood and gave a detailed description of the operation.
"They sound a ruthless organization, Inspector," Lavina said. "What's the alternative if we don't wish to participate?"
"It will go ahead regardless," Matthews replied, "We'll place the fake Rubens at a different site and leak information about its whereabouts. However, that is more likely to be seen as a set up. Unfortunately, because of your late husband's involvement, even if you don't help us, there is no guarantee your family or yourself will be free of danger."
"No I guess not," Lavina whispered. She caught Steve's eyes and sighed. "I really see no alternative then. If everyone agrees we'll help you."
"We want the best of protection," Steve insisted.
"Especially for Barrie," Janice added. "He's the one who'll be confronted first."
*
CHAPTER 17
"Stop fussing, Mum." Cathy said from the bed at Westerfield Trust Hospital. "Nothing happens until tomorrow morning at ten. Go on home, I'll be fine."
Lavina bent over and kissed her daughter on the cheek. She smiled at Steve, who was standing at the end of the bed. By opting for a private hospital, the waiting time for fitting the electronic toes to Cathy's foot had only taken three months. It was mid summer again and the school holidays.
On the farm front, Barrie had been offered and accepted the position as permanent manager and Janice had moved in with him over the university holidays. The fake painting remained in the cellar and a state of limbo had descended over the situation as the police worker and extra patrols had come and gone without any developments. True to their word, both Lavina and Janice had been left alone and nothing more was heard about the sabotage of Grant Ryland's Cessna.
One good point to come out of it was that the insurance company paid out in full for the aircraft's value. The proceeds were just about equal to the cost of Cathy's operation and new toes.
Upper Forks Road Lodge was doing well. It was being hired out most weekends and occasionally during the week to interested parties, trampers or vacationers wanting a lazy couple of days in the back blocks. Janice had been appointed manager and custodian but Lavina, Cathy and Steve always drove up to help clean the old school between tenants. They were pleased with the majority of clients who cared for the property so well there was only regular maintenance to do.
Now, the big excitement was Cathy and her operation. Dr Horstmann, the specialist, was excellent in that he explained everything without talking down to Cathy. He'd already shown her the toes and demonstrated how they worked. The main operation was to connect them to her body by drilling into the bones of her foot and inserting prongs. Afterwards, the implanted toes would be operated by a microprocessor wired to the three natural toes beside them. It was all high tech and very exciting for the family.
"Mum, when I'm bridesmaid at your wedding, I'm not going to limp one little bit."
Lavina felt tears gather in her eyes as she glanced back at Cathy's excited face. "That gives you about three months, sweetheart," she said.
"You set a date! You didn't tell me."
"Well," Steve laughed and tucked an arm around Lavina, "It depends on you. We promised to wait until you can walk properly and we'll keep that promise."
"Then it'll only be a month." Cathy laughed. "I know it will."
"Could be," Steve said, waving goodbye. "We'll be back about nine in the morning."
Lavina gave her daughter one last affectionate look and walked out along the wide corridor.
"I love you both," Cathy called back as she held up a little yellow instrument. "Thanks again for my own mobile phone!"
"Remember, get permission before you use it in the hospital and not too many text messages," Lavina said.
"She'll be fine," the charge nurse reassured them as they passed the nurse's station.
"If she ever stops talking," Lavina said. "Steve reckons she'll blow the month's prepaid rental in two days."
"Don't worry." The nurse laughed. "You wait until she's eighteen like my daughter."
*
Steve and Lavina were driving home when the mobile phone rang. "Cathy, I bet." Lavina grinned and answered it.
The voice however was a highly agitated Janice. "Lavina," she cried, "I've just arrived at the farm. The house has been wrecked and Barrie's gone!"
"Wrecked?" Lavina frowned and repeated the sentence to Steve.
"Everything's been stripped, drawers pulled out, clothes thrown everywhere, plates smashed. Even the television has been tipped over and the back ripped off it. I can't find Barrie," Janice's voice broke into a sob. "I'm scared, Lavina."
"Give me the phone," Steve said.
She nodded and handed it to him. "Are there any vehicles around, Janice?"
"Only the two Land Rovers and my car. Nothing else."
"Good. That means whoever did this has probably gone."
"What about Barrie?" whimpered the distraught woman.
"Look outside," Steve said. "You can normally see the kennels. Are the dogs tied up there?"
There was brief silence before Janice's voice came back. "No. I can't see them."
"That's a good sign and probably means Barrie has them with him. With two dogs anyone would think twice before attacking him." He glanced at Lavina and pressed mute. "Keep her talking, dear," he said. "I'm driving to the police station. It's closer than home."
"It's me again." Lavina nodded at Steve and spoke in the mobile phone. "Have you phoned the police yet?"
"No, only you. I'm scared, Lavina."
"Have you turned any lights on yet, Janice?"
"No, it's not quite dark yet."
"Good, now go out to your car and drive towards town."
"It's too far. Anyone could stop me."
Lavina grimaced. Janice was obviously terrified. "Listen. Don't worry about the house or Barrie. He's got the dogs. Drive along to the school and park your car behind the swimming pool fence. It'll be out of sight from the road there. Lock yourself in the building but don't turn any lights on. Use the school phone to call us back. Go now. We'll call the police for you."
*
Though an old building, the farmhouse had been modernized throughout the years with walls removed and ceilings lowered. Janice stood in the open planned kitchen and sobbed quietly as she stared around. Immediately opposite her, the L-shaped sink and bench had every door opened. Pots, pans, baking utensils and other kitchenware lay strewn across the vinyl floor. The electric stove had been pulled out of the brick alcove that originally held an iron wood-burning model.
The storage cupboard beyond that was emptied with flour, sugar and supplies everywhere. The couch was yanked to the middle of the room, tipped over and had the back material ripped off. Every book in the large corner bookshelf had been tossed to the floor and many of the larger books had covers ripped off.
"Oh hell!" Janice sobbed and walked to the adjacent lounge. If anything, this was worse. The two couches and three chairs were slashed open and a massive china cabinet lay across the floor with broken crystal, wine glasses and ornaments everywhere. Everything of a larger size had been broken or cut open. The television and its cabinet were smashed and one curtain hung like a limp ghost on a bent runner.
In spite of her fear, Janice walked through the rest of the house. Every room was totally looted with beds turned over and mattresses slashed open. One new wall that divided a large room into two had been kicked in and the framework exposed.
It was twilight and the dull interior of the building sent shivers up her back. She let herself out the front door and walked around the lawn to her left. The hedge and trees seemed to have eyes and every sound, usually so friendly, had somehow turned ominous and frightening.
Janice decided to head for the school as Lavina suggested. Her car was on the back drive across a wide concrete space. She found herself perspiring and her chest heaved as she gathered up enough courage to dash across to her car.
She heard a new sound and stopped in her tracks. Whimpering. The dogs!
She swung in the direction of the sound. A path led through a gap in the hedge to a small wooden gate. Beyond that was another drive that led to the woolshed. She wiped sweaty hands on her jeans, gulped saliva and stepped out onto the path.
She ran to the building, so fast, she arrived gasping for breath with a hand gripped against a veranda support. She'd been heard. Loud barking and whining sounded behind the closed double doors in front of her and scratching noises rattled at its base.
Janice slid the heavy latch back, pulled the door and was immediately surrounded by two barking, grovelling dogs who leaped at her with wagging tails and sloppy tongues licking her face.
"Whoa girls!" she gasped in relief as Bunt and Spotty tore around in circles with their noses on the ground before rushing up at her again. "Where's Barrie? Is he inside?"
The dark interior seemed empty but Janice risked turning the lights on for a few seconds. As the area lit up she could see the place looked normal. An open wool bale stood in its iron frame and was half filled with woolly tails, recently cut off the farm lambs, while others were in a tidy pile on the floor as if Barrie was in the middle of sorting and counting them.
"Barrie!" she called, but all was quiet. Janice went cold with fear. If the dogs were here, Barrie was alone. She turned to the animals.
"Spotty, Bunt, find Barrie," she ordered. With their ears pitched forward, the dogs gazed at her for a moment before barking and running out of the wool shed. They ran directly back to the house, around the lawn, over to the implement shed and zigzagged back and forth, nose to the ground. Their search exhausted, the two dogs returned, sat in front of Janice and stared at her with their dark round eyes. Bunt gave a mournful woof and her tail hung limp as if she'd let her mistress down.
"It's not your fault," Janice whispered. She felt a lump in her throat and that fear of being watched, once again shuddered through her mind. "Come on, girls," she said. "We'll take Barrie's Land Rover."
The dogs woofed, ran to the vehicle, jumped in the open back and stared expectantly at her.
"Okay." She smiled for the first time, swallowed her fear and made another dash back to the kitchen.
She breathed out in relief and grabbed the keys from their usual spot on a hook above the telephone. Within seconds, the Land Rover, with the lights left off, headed towards the old school. Another frightening few moments passed as she had to open a farm gate but then it was only a short journey to park behind the tin swimming pool fence.
"Come on, girls," Janice whispered, headed for the building and walked inside. "Thank God!" she gasped. In the twilight, everything seemed normal. The vandals had not been here.
She rubbed both dogs' ears, locked the door and made her way to the corridor telephone and dialled Steve's mobile phone number. Lavina immediately answered.
Like Twigs in a Storm Page 16
