“You can’t be serious?” he’d said to Philippe when the older man told him he would have to cut Brady’s share of the profits. “There’s no way I can accept twenty-five percent of what you’re paying me right now. It’s out of the question.”
Philippe’s reply was smooth, and Brady suspected, well-rehearsed. “It’s unfortunate, but I simply can no longer pay you the generous amounts I have paid you in the past. My shipping and insurance costs have gone up considerably since we began, and I’m having to pay far more for the original paintings. C’est la vie.”
Brady had stared furiously at Philippe, although he managed to control his temper. He’d wanted nothing more than to wipe the smug look off Philippe’s face. Brady suspected Philippe knew he would have to agree to the new arrangement, because Brady couldn’t really post an ad for work as an experienced forger on the internet or in the art journals.
Brady had told Philippe he’d think it over, but if Philippe had thought that was the end of the matter, he’d underestimated Brady’s anger. Brady had been seething all night, unable to think of anything else. He turned away from the paintings, and slammed one of his fists into the paint palette on the table. Paint splattered everywhere. The more of a mess he made, the angrier Brady became. He continued until his hand was bruised, and his head was about to explode.
Brady may have thought he’d escaped his childhood poverty and abusive family, but their legacy lived on in him. Not only was he now saddled with a huge debt due to his student loans, the years of mental and physical torture at the hands of a drugged-up father and alcoholic mother had left him mentally unstable and prone to violent rages. After he had a manic episode, he’d wake up with no recollection of what he’d done, other than having a bad feeling in his gut. The time he’d spent in a juvenile detention center was a distant memory, but not distant enough.
Philippe Germain will regret the day he crossed me, he thought to himself with a crooked smile. I’ll take Renee and we’ll go away. She’ll like that.
A plan began to form in his mind. He’d been able to save a little money from what Philippe had paid him, and he knew there was an active market for good forgers in Europe. Even though Renee had been born in the United States, with French parentage she was fluent in the language. He could leave what was left of the student loans behind, and start again. Maybe they’d even get married. It would be perfect.
CHAPTER 9
DeeDee glanced at the GPS screen on the dash. She was driving the van through Ravenna, a neighborhood in northeastern Seattle, on her way to Colin James’ house. Although she’d spoken to Colin on the telephone before her trip to Provence to finalize the arrangements for his party, she had never been to his home. The area was named after Ravenna, Italy, and the arrow on the screen took DeeDee past Ravenna-Cowen Park and the walking route connecting Green Lake to the Burke-Gilman Trail.
It was an affluent residential area with many estate-sized homes. The arrow on the GPS screen indicated she should take the next road on the right. A call came through on the Bluetooth speaker, and she glanced at the Caller ID before answering.
“Hi, Susie. Is everything all right? I’m on my way to Colin’s house right now.”
“Please tell me you’re not far away,” Susie said. “Colin is driving me nuts. He’s afraid you’re going to be late, and the guests will arrive before the food is here. Talk about paranoid. He’s cornered Kristen and is telling her about the temperature controls on his Meneghini refrigerator. Do you know how much those things cost?”
“The brand name rings a bell,” DeeDee said, turning onto a tree-lined private street. “I’m guessing they’re expensive.” One thing she did know about Colin James, from another Deelish client who had referred him, was that he was mega-rich.
“Forty grand.” Susie giggled. “I know because Colin told me, not once, but twice. Please hurry and save us from any more refrigerator talk with a middle-aged tech geek who has no social graces whatsoever. It’s only 6:30, so the guests won’t be here for a while.”
“I think I’m coming up to the house now,” DeeDee said, peering ahead. “There’s a big glass and timber mansion down at the end, is that the one?”
“If it looks like a giant man cave, that’s it. We’ll come out and help you unload the van. See you in a minute.” The line clicked as Susie ended the call.
DeeDee cruised into the driveway of an imposing home elevated above a sloping garden, and surrounded by tall pine trees. The exterior walls of the house were made almost entirely of glass, except for wooden columns in each of the corners of the building, making it look like a large treehouse in the middle of the pines. A metal structure resembling a space ship was perched on the roof, which DeeDee realized was the biggest satellite dish she had ever seen. Boys and their toys, she thought, pulling up under a covered parking area with nearby steps leading up to the house.
Susie and Kristen appeared moments later, and they helped her unload the van and carry the food up to the streamlined ultra-modern chef’s kitchen. As a wine connoisseur and a member of the most exclusive club for wine aficionados in Seattle, Colin had told DeeDee he’d provide the wine, so all she had to worry about were the appetizers to go with both red and white wines. DeeDee had given Susie the recipes for the appetizers and the other dishes she wanted to serve, as well as the table set up.
“Thanks for doing all of this,” she said to Susie on their third trip up the steps from the van to the kitchen. “I really appreciate you preparing everything and having the van packed up and ready for me to drive over here. I hope Colin…”
“You hope Colin what?”
Standing in the doorway of the kitchen was a tall man with graying shoulder-length hair that curled up on the collar of his navy sports coat. He was unshaven, and the rest of his outfit consisted of a crumpled designer shirt and jeans.
DeeDee set down the food containers she was carrying and walked over to him with a broad smile on her face. “I hope Colin is hungry,” she said, shaking his hand. “I’m DeeDee Wilson. I’m delighted to meet you at last. Sorry if I’m a little late, but it looks like my helpers have everything under control.”
Colin hesitated before returning DeeDee’s smile. “I guess they do. Come with me, and I’ll show you where everything is.”
Colin led DeeDee through a bachelor pad that looked like it was straight out of GQ magazine. Everything about it was sleek and modern, the dark colors and styling throughout giving it a distinctive masculine edge. Large paintings hung on the bare walls, including vibrant landscapes that provided a bright contrast to the otherwise somber decor.
When they reached the other side of the house, a large deck led out onto a garden completely enclosed by trees. The outdoor furniture secured by Susie included low rattan sofas and chairs lined with sumptuous soft pillows for seating, as well as giant beanbags scattered across the grass. Fairy lights were strung around the deck and magically woven through the trees. It was still light out, but DeeDee knew as the evening grew darker, the area would sparkle.
“Your home is beautiful,” DeeDee murmured. Although the style wasn’t her personal taste, the setting was stunning. “Have you lived here long?”
“Long enough,” Colin said. “I moved here so I can run my dogs in the nearby park. You probably saw it on your way here.”
DeeDee nodded. “How many dogs do you have?”
Colin’s shoulders relaxed. “Two. Cooper’s a Labrador retriever and Champ’s a golden retriever. They keep an old bachelor like me sane.”
“I have a husky, Balto,” DeeDee said. “One’s plenty for me.”
Colin shifted from foot to foot. “I should be getting ready. Now that you know where everything is, I’ll leave you to it, if that’s all right.”
“I’ll start getting everything plated up. Don’t worry about a thing, Colin, we’ve got it all under control.”
She watched Colin shuffle toward the glass staircase, his hands stuffed in his pockets, and then she made her way back to th
e kitchen to help Susie and Kristen with the appetizers.
“See what I mean about Colin?” Susie said, as she polished the silver cutlery.
“I think he’s just socially awkward,” DeeDee said, admiring the Meneghini refrigerator. “But I do like his taste in art and kitchen gadgets.”
*****
Colin looked around the packed room, his guests laughing and drinking together like the old friends they were. He’d been anxious earlier, what with the caterer not arriving with the food until the last minute, but he had to admit, Deelish had done a superb job catering the party. The food was top-notch and complimented his wine selections perfectly. The service was friendly and efficient, without being obtrusive. The recommendation he’d received about Deelish had been a good one.
Although Colin loved entertaining, he always liked to stay on the sidelines at his own parties, wanting to make sure that everything was perfect. It was only toward the end of the evening that he allowed himself to savor the wines he’d carefully chosen, and kicked his shoes off on the grass while settling into a bean bag chair to talk with some of his former colleagues.
Colin had been one of Microsoft’s first employees, a software designer. Since he’d cashed out his huge employee stock bonus and taken an early retirement, his life was one never-ending weekend. He was quite happy spending his days playing the stock market and hanging out with his dogs. Permanently single, his nights were spent alone.
Colin’s friend, Ben, slumped into a bean bag next to him. “Dating anyone these days, Colin? Or are you still afraid women are only after your money? Great party, by the way.”
Colin raised his glass to Ben and smiled at him ruefully. “That’s rich, coming from the man in the cubicle next to me, who got married and promptly taken to the cleaners by his wife when she divorced him. Why do you think so many other Microsoft employees who made huge amounts of money when they sold their Microsoft stock and retired early like I did never married? You’re the foolish exception.”
Ben laughed. “Unfortunately, you and the others who retired early are all sure the only reason a woman would be interested in you is because of the large stock bonus you took when you retired from Microsoft. There’s a psychologist you should go see who has a practice catering to retired Microsoft workers who never married, for the same reason you haven’t.”
“I’ll think it over,” Colin said. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see DeeDee and her helpers cleaning up. “I’ll be back in a moment, I need to pay the caterer.” His knees made a clicking sound as he stood up, and then he followed DeeDee through the living room toward the kitchen.
“DeeDee,” he called after her. “I just want to thank you for everything.”
DeeDee turned around. “You’re welcome, Colin. I’m glad everyone seems to be enjoying themselves.” She held up a hand to her mouth to cover a wide yawn. “Please forgive me, I just returned from Europe and I’m still suffering from jet lag.”
“In that case, let me give you a check now so you can be on your way when you’re finished with the cleanup chores. My checkbook’s in my office.” He signaled for her to follow him down the hallway, which was lined with paintings.
“I’ll wait here,” DeeDee said, admiring the gallery wall, while Colin went into the office. When he came out, check in hand, he heard a gasp from DeeDee.
“What’s wrong?” he asked, handing her the check.
DeeDee turned to him with a confused expression. “This is so bizarre. Two of these paintings…” she pointed to the wall, “look exactly like ones I saw recently in a gallery in Provence.”
Colin shrugged. What an annoying woman, he thought to himself. If there were two things Colin considered himself an expert on, they were wine and art. He smiled at her condescendingly. “I’m afraid you’re mistaken, DeeDee. I buy my art from a gallery with impeccable credentials, Germain Plein Air Art Gallery in Pioneer Square.”
DeeDee was insistent. “I really don’t think so. The strange thing is, a friend of mine also has a painting similar to one I saw in Provence as well. Would you mind if I took a photograph of these two paintings?”
Colin’s eyes narrowed. “That’s fine, but what for?”
“I’d like to compare them to the photos of the paintings I took while I was in Provence. Those photos are on my camera, but I don’t have it with me.”
“Do you think there’s something wrong with them?” Colin asked in a raised tone of voice.
“No, it’s just strange, that’s all,” DeeDee said, taking several photos of the paintings with her cell phone. “It’s probably nothing.” She turned back to Colin. “We’ll finish cleaning up and be off, if that’s all right.”
Colin’s reply was curt. “Excellent,” he said with a nod, turning and stalking back down the hallway to the living room where some of the remaining guests had congregated. He didn’t go back out to the garden to talk with Ben, because Colin couldn’t get the caterer’s comments out of his mind. He remembered something else that had bothered him a few weeks ago when he had guests over for dinner. His friend Jack had said he had a painting by Edgar Payne, and the signature on Colin’s painting by Edgar Payne didn’t look exactly like the one Jack owned.
“Maybe you’ve got a fake, Colin,” Jack had said, taunting him.
“Or maybe you have,” Colin said, right back at him.
“That, I doubt,” Jack said. “I got it from the artist’s family. But don’t worry Col, I guess even artists have off days and the signature they use on their completed painting is slightly off from their usual signature.”
Colin had laughed it off at the time, but now…alarm bells were ringing in his head.
When the catering crew and the rest of his guests had left, Colin sat down at his state-of-the-art computer and began an internet search on how to determine if a painting was a fake. He didn’t notice the time creep by, until he finally crawled into bed long after midnight. By then, he was convinced from what he had learned, together with the comments from the caterer and Jack, that he’d been scammed. He’d paid a lot of money for not one, but two fakes, and Colin didn’t like being taken for a fool. That was for people like Ben, not for someone careful like him.
There was nothing he could do about the situation at this time of night. He decided he’d go the gallery and talk to Philippe after his time at the coffee shop the next day. It was part of Colin’s routine, from 11:00 to 2:00 every day he went to the same coffee shop, read the newspaper and talked to people, every day regulars, just like him. Yes, that would be the sensible thing to do.
But as the night wore on Colin tossed and turned and was unable to sleep. His attitude gradually changed from doing something sensible to doing something much stronger. Sometime in the middle of the night, he decided serious action was needed to deal with a man who would take advantage of innocent art collectors like himself. Colin was reluctant to admit that at least he could afford to get scammed. However, plenty of other innocent people could not.
I’ll go to the gallery and have it out with him tomorrow, he decided. That slimy French frog who I trusted. I’ll make sure he never gets away with this. Not now, and not ever again.
CHAPTER 10
By the time DeeDee had returned to the Deelish kitchen on Bainbridge Island after the party, unpacked the van, and driven the last leg of her journey home, she could barely keep her eyes open. Although her body was tired, thinking about the paintings she’d seen at Colin’s house was causing her mind to work overtime, and she was unable to decompress.
She took care of Balto, and then called Jake. “Hey,” she said, hearing his groggy voice answer. “Did I wake you?”
“I must have fallen asleep on the sofa,” Jake said. “I’m still out of whack after the change of time zones. How was the party?”
“It went well,” DeeDee said. “The client, Colin James, was happy…with the catering, at least.”
“I sense there’s something you’re not telling me,” Jake said. “What’s going on?”<
br />
DeeDee sighed. She explained about seeing the paintings hanging in Colin’s hallway, and how he’d reacted when she told him she had seen similar ones in Provence.
“He wasn’t very impressed when I voiced my concerns. I distinctly got the impression he was more than a little irritated that I’d said anything, but at least he agreed to let me take photos of them.”
“I guess it’s understandable,” Jake said. “If someone told me they thought they’d seen several pieces of my expensive art collection somewhere else, I’d probably freak out too.”
DeeDee petted Balto, who had wandered into the great room and put his paws up on her knees. “I don’t think I saw them, I know I did,” DeeDee said, correcting him. “I also went to Cassie’s home earlier today, and looked at her Alfred Mitchell painting again. After that, I’m more certain than ever that all three of the paintings I’ve seen here are the same as the paintings I saw in the gallery in Provence.”
She heard Jake exhale. “If it was just one, it might be a coincidence,” he said. “But three? I agree this is beginning to sound sinister. Have you compared the photos you took today to the ones from the Germain Gallerie in Provence?”
“No, but I’ll do that now. Can you hold for a few minutes?”
“Sure,” Jake replied, and DeeDee set the phone down. Moving Balto’s paws from her knees, she walked out into the hallway where her camera was sitting on the table. Walking back into the great room, she squinted at the shots she had taken in Marc Germain’s gallery in Provence before comparing them to the more recent ones on her cell phone. The colors were the same hue, the juxtaposition just so. It was only on closer inspection that something jumped out at her.
“Jake?” Her voice was high-pitched when she got back on the phone. “I’ve figured it out. At first, I thought the paintings were identical, but they’re not.”
Murder at the Gallery: A Northwest Cozy Mystery (Northwest Cozy Mystery Series Book 6) Page 7
