by Lotta Smith
“Okay.” Rick took his phone and wallet out of his jacket pocket. “That’s all for me. Unless you want me to take off my clothes.”
“I don’t mind if he strips down to au naturel,” Claudia said happily. “His shoulders are to drool over even when he’s fully dressed. I want to admire his biceps and pec muscles. Oh my goodness, just imagining his butt could make my nose bleed.”
As she swooned in the air, Jackie lowered her voice. “Actually, his butt is absolutely to die for.”
Suppressing the urge to demand Jackie explain her comment, I narrowed my eyes at the ghost who claimed to be my guardian angel.
“Oh, Mandy, darling, don’t look at me like that. It’s not like I’m a peeping Tom. It was a total accident. I was going to ask you to turn on your Kindle so I could read the latest Lauren Weisberger novel. Anyway, when I went into the bedroom to ask you for my little favor, Rick and you were passionately engaging in you-know-what.”
I opened my mouth and then shut it like a suffocating goldfish. That sneaky ghost! We’d made a deal that the bathrooms and the bedroom were off-limits, but of course, no place on earth was inaccessible to Jackie. I had a hunch ghosts would make really rocking undercover agents and spies. They could sneak into any criminal or diplomatic organizations or countries, and they wouldn’t need any sort of cover to begin with.
As I quietly fumed, the baby was moving in my womb as if she was giggling and laughing hysterically.
“Jackie, darling, talking about your best friend’s hubby’s naked body in front of her isn’t nice.” Claudia patted her ghostly friend’s hand. Then she turned to me. “But on the plus side, you don’t have to worry about your best friend having an affair with your husband.”
“Exactly.” Jackie moved up and down in the air. “On the contrary, I’ve been keeping an eye on him so he wouldn’t have an affair. Believe me, darling, Rick has been spotlessly clean for as long as I know.”
That was it. I rolled my eyes.
“Mandy?” Rick touched my hand, and his mesmerizing green eyes locked on mine. “Are you all right?”
“I’m fine,” I replied, even though there were many things I wanted to tell him. I didn’t know where to start, and I wasn’t sure if I should tell him about Jackie witnessing his naked butt or not. Maybe not, I thought. When we encountered Jackie for the first time, the flamboyant ghost attempted to grope him without success, but Rick looked really uncomfortable. So I concluded it’d be better not to share too much information with him.
Seagal cleared his throat. “It’s your turn.”
“Here’s my purse.” I opened my handbag and started lining up the contents on the table.
“Wow… this is so lovely!” Nicole cooed. “What a cute purse! I love Louis Vuitton, so much! There’s something like timeless elegance that never goes stale with their purses, isn’t it?”
“Thanks! I agree with you.” I smiled, placing my phone, handkerchief, tissue packet, wet tissue packet, a little notepad, pen, lipstick, lip balm, small bag of potato chips, chocolate bar, and small packets of ketchup and mayo on the table. “What I like most about this purse is it’s relatively lightweight. Want to feel?” I offered.
“Sure!” She took it, all smiles.
“Perhaps your purse would be far less heavy if you weren’t carrying so much stuff.” Rick rolled his eyes at my belongings.
“Oh, come on, Rick. A lady needs to be prepared for whatever emergency she might encounter in life.” Indicating the packets of ketchup and mayo, Nicole said, “Besides that, these condiments make everything taste better. Maybe adding some soy sauce would make it perfect. It’s a shame that butter and cheese can’t be carried around in a purse since they tend to melt and rot.”
Inspecting my empty purse, Seagal furrowed his eyebrows. “Beast isn’t inside.”
“All right, now whodunit is so obvious, isn’t it?” Seyfried said abruptly.
Nicole tilted her head, muttering, “Who’s that?”
Seyfried flashed a twisted grin and turned his head at the housekeeper. “It’s you, Ms. Heidi Reinhart.”
“Wh-what? Excuse me?” She jumped a little, her eyes wide open like a deer caught in headlights. “Wh-why me?”
“That’s as easy as counting one, two, three. You went out of this house for grocery shopping. Suppose you stole Beast before leaving. You could’ve stashed it in a locker or storage place on the way.”
“I didn’t!” She shook her head violently. “Why would I do that?”
“I have no idea.” Seyfried shrugged. “After all, no one else was hiding the mask in their belongings.”
Stretching her arms, Shannon said, “She could’ve hidden the mask somewhere in the house so she could retrieve it later on.”
“Then again, there’s another person who could retrieve it later—Mrs. Sparks herself. Except her alibi is solid and airtight. So, the culprit should be keeping Beast at hand, which means the only person capable of doing that would be Ms. Reinhar—”
Before Seyfried could finish his sentence, Nicole clapped her hands. “Enough!” Her words shut him and the magazine reporter up. “With the locked-room mystery still unsolved, how could you accuse Heidi of the heist? That’s outrageous, isn’t it, Rick?”
“I suppose so,” he agreed.
“They’re right, Mr. Seyfried,” Seagal said with a solemn face, casting a sharp glare at the insurance agent. “I agree with you on some parts, but without the mystery of how Beast ended up disappearing, we can’t even start a discussion on who took the mask. Please leave the police to make the final conclusion.”
“Um… okay,” Seyfried mumbled uncomfortably.
“Can I have my attaché case back?” Radcliffe asked.
“Yes, you can.” Seagal nodded.
“Good.” Radcliffe started to put the cash back into the case. “I don’t feel comfortable leaving wads of cash naked.”
“You were really serious about acquiring Beast, weren’t you?” Nicole said.
“Yes, I was.” Radcliffe shrugged. “Mrs. Sparks, will you please stop poking my wound? I’m trying to get over this traumatic event as soon as possible.”
“So you can choose your next target and talk your way into the owner’s home to sell whatever art pieces you want?” Nicole chuckled.
“That’s one way to describe my job. I’d rather call myself an agent of beauty who helps great art survive time that’s easy and rough, to be passed on to the next generation to cherish and admire the charm created by our predecessors.”
“Uh-huh,” Nicole mumbled, sounding like she’d lost interest in her fellow art dealer’s big speech, and moved her focus onto me as I filled my purse with my belongings. “Wow, Mandy, darling, you’re great with packing, aren’t you?”
“You think so?” I giggled, finishing by closing the magnetic button.
“Isn’t it amazing that so much stuff is stashed in such a lovely little purse?” she went on. “The stuff that seemed ready to cover the whole coffee table is now contained in a small area.”
“Right.” I nodded. “But the disadvantage of purses is that they only reduce the area but have no effect on the mass or the weight because now the whole thing has been heaped up taller. If you invented a purse or luggage that reduced the contents’ mass and weight, you’d be the most successful inventor in the world. Imagine reducing fifty pounds of stuff to an ounce. That’d be a dream come true for the whole of humanity. Of course, some people list the cure of currently incurable diseases to qualify as a dream come true for the world. But don’t you think it’d be lovely if you could carry all the garments, cosmetics, and whatever stuff you need for a vacation in a handbag?”
“I’m already deeply in love with your idea.” Jackie sighed longingly.
“If only such technology was available in my time,” Claudia agreed. “Suppose we were able to carry months-long vacation luggage in something as little as a party bag. History could’ve been completely changed. Louis Vuitton might never have made those
gigantic trunks that also function as closets, and the same can be said about Hermès.”
Nicole’s mouth shaped the form of an O. After a brief pause, she shook her head. “Oh no, Mandy. Lovely is an understatement. It’d be a total lifesaver. Except the airlines would hate it as they’d no longer be able to charge baggage fe—”
“Wait a minute. What did you just say, Mandy?” Rick interrupted her and clasped my hand.
“What, about the dream project for the whole of humanity? Are you considering working on the carry-your-luggage-in-a-little-purse project?” I leaned in, excited. What I imagined seemed like something from a sci-fi flick, but just like the ghosts, I wanted anything to lighten up my baggage.
Rick crossed his arms. “That too. Although what I meant was the part about the mass staying the same regardless of the area.” Then he looked at Shannon. “Ms. Tate, I imagine you’ve taken photos of Beast, right? Can I take a look at them?”
“Oh, yes.” She took out a heavy-looking digital camera and pulled up the photo of the monkey mask on its display. “Here you are.”
“Thank you.” Rick stared at it for a few seconds.
“What are you checking for?” I followed his gaze to the image of Beast. Just like I’d seen it about an hour or so ago, the reddish facial complexion and the fur surrounding it looked real, but its eyes and their sockets looked cheap.
“Thank you very much, Ms. Tate.” Rick returned the camera to Shannon, treating it like some kind of treasure.
“You’re done so soon? Learn anything?” Shannon smiled, studying his face.
“A lot,” Rick replied and stood up.
“Like what?” Shannon and Nicole said in unison.
“I now know how the locked room was created,” he said nonchalantly. “And perhaps who took Beast. But the tricky part is that I’m not sure why the culprit—”
As he mumbled, Heidi suddenly exclaimed, “Oh my word!”
“What was that?” Seyfried twitched, apparently shaken.
Heidi scurried toward the detective. “I forgot to tell you something very important,” she said breathlessly. “I picked up the message from the Mysterious Art Connoisseur, right?”
“Yes, I remember that.” Seagal nodded. “It could be an important piece of evidence, so I’ll submit it for you.”
“But the message didn’t end with what I previously recited.” She took out the crumpled paper from her apron pocket.
“What the…?” Seagal rushed forward and grabbed the memo from her.
“I was meaning to read the sentences that followed the part about taking Beast, but by that time, you were all out of the salon,” Heidi said apologetically. “I wasn’t sure if I’d be welcome to join you, and after putting chilled and frozen food into the fridge, I’d totally forgotten about sharing that info with you. My apologies.”
“No need to worry about that, Heidi.” Nicole dismissed her with a wave of her hand.
“Well, ‘Beast has vanished like fog,’ I remember that part. Here’s the part left unread: ‘As you know, Beast isn’t the first art piece I’ve taken as mine. It’s a real treasure, and indeed, it’s the most beautiful item that never stops sending jolts of euphoric sensations all over my body. I know stealing is a crime, and I’ve always known it’s ethically wrong to take away beautiful art from the rightful owners. No matter how many treasures I’ve stolen, I can’t help feeling a hollow emptiness in my heart. However, when I laid my hands on Beast, I felt my soul being filled with satisfaction for the first time. As a token of appreciation, I hereby declare that I’m quitting my bad habit of stealing, and the thief the media calls the Mysterious Art Connoisseur is disappearing as well. You can try searching for me, but you won’t find me, much less catch me. Goodbye. No one will be able to find me anymore.’ Signed, ‘Mysterious Art Connoisseur.’”
Anger, confusion, frustration, and some strong but hard-to-describe emotions crossed Seagal’s face all at once as he threw the paper onto the table.
“What the hell is this?” Seyfried groaned and shut his eyes tightly.
“It’s something like a declaration of retirement, I guess.” Shannon rubbed her jaw thoughtfully. “How should we interpret this? This heist of Beast being the last for the connoisseur, seriously? I can’t believe that. After all, we’re dealing with a criminal, and those who resort to stealing, killing, and so on aren’t known for their straight honesty, are they?”
“They aren’t.” The detective shook his head in a fierce manner.
“The problem is not about the connoisseur quitting!” Suddenly, Seyfried jumped up from his seat. “I don’t care what he’s going to do! I need the mask back. Please, Detective… you have to do something, anything to get the mask back!”
“Quiet, please.” Seagal shut his eyes, massaging his temple, looking completely at a loss.
“This is no mystery.” Claudia snorted.
“What do you mean? Do you know who the Mysterious Art Connoisseur is?” Jackie exclaimed, eyes widening.
“No, I don’t. I don’t know who stole that ugly mask, and I don’t really care whoever this thief is. But at least one thing is clear. For someone called a connoisseur, this thief completely lacks the sense of beauty. What kind of an idiot chooses such an ugly monstrosity as the treasure of a lifetime?” Claudia rolled her eyes. “Besides, in retrospect, that mask looked slightly different. I can’t point out which part, but it looked even cheaper than usual.”
“Are you sure?”
“I believe so.” Claudia tilted her head. “Then again, it’s not like I made a habit of carefully inspecting that monkey mask. Like I said, it wasn’t my favorite.”
Listening to the ghosts chattering, my jaw dropped. “Rick, we need to talk… in private,” I whispered into his ear.
“Okay.” He nodded as he stood up, taking my hand. “Let’s go.”
“Where are you going?” Seagal asked, but he stayed slumped in his seat.
“To the corridor. I have to make a call,” Rick said, escorting me out of the salon.
“Oh, they’re going out. We must join them,” Claudia said, taking Jackie’s arm. “Let’s go.”
CHAPTER 10
As we went out into the corridor and to the foyer at the entrance, I briefed Rick on Claudia’s impression of the mask.
“Are you sure?” A corner of his lips quirked up into a smile. “Wow, she has a good eye for art. Claudia’s right. That mask was a replica.”
“Did you hear that?” Claudia excitedly patted Jackie’s back again and again. “I knew it was fake!”
“Pardon me?” My eyes widened and my jaw dropped. “Did you know it was fake in the first place?”
“Of course I did.” He winked. “Otherwise, I’d be in serious trouble. Having the target to protect stolen in front of our noses is the worst nightmare that could happen to a security company. Actually, the Sparkses aren’t our only clients with this case. The FBI’s White-Collar Crime Unit happens to be our client. They’ve been after the Mysterious Art Connoisseur, and NYPD’s latest mishap with the thief had them cast suspicions on the police. Besides, you saw how Nicole has been behaving after the mask was stolen, right?”
“Yes.” I nodded. “I was impressed with her composure. If I had something as pricey as that, I’d be making a huge fuss.”
“I can imagine.” He chuckled, stroking the lower part of my back in small circles. “Like you say, she’d have the fit of the century. Believe me, when she last lost an earring that cost less than a fraction of Beast, she really snapped. Well, that was until Meredith pulled the lost earring out of the kitchen sink.”
“Oh.” I giggled.
“Earrings are destined to fall into the sink.” Claudia nodded, and Jackie agreed, “So true.”
“Anyway, Nicole is so well-composed because she knows her real Beast was stashed in USCAB’s safe,” he said.
“I see. If that’s the case, the Mysterious Art Connoisseur doesn’t know much about art.” I knitted my eyebrows. “Maybe we
should call the thief the Mysterious Art Amateur.”
Rick snorted with laughter. “All right, let me make a call.” He swiped over his phone.
“Jackie, maybe it’s just me being slightly clueless, but I’m not quite following this investigation.” Claudia crossed her arms. “So, why did the thief who’s supposed to be some sort of art expert steal a replica?”
“We’ll see.” Patting her hand, Jackie said in a soothing tone, “Rick’s always like that. He tends to be enigmatic when he’s about to crack a case. Even Mandy has no idea about the connoisseur. Right, Mandy?” She turned to me.
“Right,” I whispered, sticking my index finger in front of my lips. “Quiet, please?”
I was trying my best to eavesdrop on Rick’s conversation with the person at the other end. He was using the speaker mode, which made it easier for me to listen in.
“Hi, Detective Strout, how are you?” he said perkily.
“I’m busy, still working on the drowned body,” Detective Strout responded in a grim tone. “Has Mrs. Rowling encountered any ghostly witnesses?”
Without answering his question, Rick went on. “Look, I was just wondering if the body from the river has been ID’d.”
“Oh?” The detective’s voice sounded suspicious. “Luckily, his dental records matched one of the patients at a local dentist’s office. We’re likely to find out the killer’s motives by digging into his personal relationships, and—”
“Detective, I suspect that the case of our poor reporter Patrick Harlan will stay unknown with your investigative tactics.”
“Oh yeah? Wait, did I share the name of my victim with you?” Detective Strout’s voice boomed louder. “And how come you know the vic’s profession?”
“By the way, Detective, can you send me the photo of the vic?” Rick said without answering the previous question. “There’s something I want Mandy to check before proceeding to the final step.”
“But….” Detective Strout fumbled with his words, but then he said, “All right. I’ll send you the photo as soon as we hang up.”
“Thank you, Detective Strout. You’re welcome to join us,” Rick said, telling him the address of Nicole’s mansion. “See you later.”
