Artifice

by Gooch, Patrick

  Although we had only known each other a short while, I felt he was someone I could trust. It was time to come clean.

  “OK Roger, I want you to read something.”

  It took a moment to go up to my room and retrieve Grandpa Johns` personal notes. I hurried down the stairs and came back into the drawing room.

  McKenna had returned, and saw the papers in my hand.

  He suddenly stood up. “Do you think that`s wise, laddie?”

  “There is no other way.”

  I handed them to Roger.

  Ten minutes later he returned it to me.

  “So that`s the reason. Schendler was blackmailing your grandfather, and he was worried for you,” he murmured.

  I nodded.

  “Has Engel tried the same trick?”

  “I don`t think he knows the full extent of the relationship Schendler had with grandfather,” I replied guilelessly.

  Tamworth nodded.

  He was no fool. Did he see through my response?

  He drank the tea, rose from the settee and said, “Well, I`ll be on my way.”

  I walked with him to his car.

  “Alan, I know you haven`t told me everything. But sooner or later you`ll have to. I can`t help you if I don`t know all the facts. Give me a ring when you`re ready.”

  He put the walking stick on the rear seat, and got behind the wheel. The window slid down.

  “Don`t leave it too long,” he said, looking at me intently. “Especially if I find the path I am about to tread leads to your door.”

  *

  “You should hae said nothing, Alan. Now he`s suspicious. We could be in even worse trouble!”

  Had I made an error? Somehow I did not think so. A gut feeling told me he could be an ally, even though an agent for some insurance company.

  *

  McKenna went to the store in Dinah`s Hollow Road.

  When he came back a few hours later, it was to tell me that Engel`s people had installed an alarm system, cameras, and security lighting around the building. At night the forecourt would be ablaze with lights if anyone approached the warehouse.

  Moreover, it would appear all the signals were being relayed to a house they had rented in Shaftesbury. No need now to lurk in the undergrowth and keep a physical watch on the premises. They could maintain round-the-clock surveillance without getting wet, cold or hungry. They would only be three miles away: if they spotted unwelcome visitors, they could be at the warehouse in minutes.

  Chapter 39

  The Cabinet meeting was coming to an end.

  Ministers were drifting towards the door, others chatting in small groups.

  The PM had drawn the Chancellor to one side, to clarify how the Treasury might pump yet more money into the NHS.

  Suddenly, there was a peremptory knock, and a Parliamentary Private Secretary walked quickly over to the Secretary of State for Culture, Media and Sport. He handed him a letter. All eyes turned towards him as he slipped a single sheet of paper out of the envelope, put on his glasses, unfolded and perused its contents.

  “My God! We`re being held to ransom! Prime Minister would you kindly call everyone back. This is important.”

  The PM briefly studied his face, which had gone quite ashen.

  “Everyone! Please resume your seats.”

  He glanced in the direction of the PPS. “Could you check if there is anyone outside?”

  A few minutes later the PM stated. “Mark, has something he wishes to report to us. I have no idea what it is, but he believes it important enough for the entire Cabinet to hear what he has to say. Mark… ”

  The minister leaned on the table, and scanned the faces around him.

  “You are all well aware of the recent theft of a raft of Turner`s paintings destined for the Kelvingrove Gallery`s exhibition of his works. Our immediate reaction to the news was that they had been stolen to order to satisfy the wants of seriously wealthy collectors.

  “I have just been handed an envelope by my PPS. It contained a particularly fine sketch of Turner`s. On it was a message. I`ll read it out to you.”

  ‘Secretary of State, the whole country will have learned by now of the disappearance of paintings by Joseph Mallord William Turner.

  At the moment, how, where and why they were taken remain a mystery to you. I shall not tell you how, nor where – however I shall reveal why. They are a bargaining tool. A means of persuading you to release much-prized objects, which have the same cultural value to others as the Turners mean to the British. I am referring to the Parthenon Marbles, stolen by Lord Elgin at the turn of the 19th century. If refused, your precious works of art will never be seen again.

  I shall be generous – you have ten days to pack the Marbles in crates and deliver them to a place of my choosing. Once on-board a vessel, which will be given free rites of passage, only then you will be notified where the paintings can be found. I would add, the Greek authorities have no knowledge or involvement in this rightful endeavour. No doubt, you will immediately inform the police and others of our intentions. I say this: It would be a foolish step to secure their help. If any attempt is made to thwart the exchange, or it is evident you are not preparing to ship the Marbles, then every single one of the Turner paintings will be destroyed.

  Contact will be made again in eight days’ time. It is up to you.’

  The Cabinet did not break up for another two hours.

  The Defence Secretary called Scotland Yard, and a senior commissioner arrived at Number Ten, Downing Street, within fifteen minutes. It could not be denied the demand was genuine. Varying opinions were expressed by those around the table, the consensus being the note be taken seriously; and that the appearance be given the Marbles were being prepared for shipment.

  The police commissioner immediately dispatched Detective Inspector Timmings of the Art and Antiques Unit to Glasgow, to help in the investigation; and the seamy side of London and major provincial cities, would be discreetly canvassed to discover if word had percolated through to them of the criminal element behind the robbery.

  The Prime Minister was adamant.

  Not one word that the Turner paintings were being held to ransom must be leaked to the outside world. This was one secret to be kept firmly within the room.

  *

  To Timmings, sitting on the train as it sped northwards, there were few who could have been responsible for the theft. Horst Schendler came immediately to mind. But, since his death, who else would have the nerve to lift such a valuable hoard?

  Chapter 40

  “We have got to get rid of those Turner paintings, McKenna. Come to that, the Dame Laura Knight and most of the long gallery as well.”

  “Well, it will be bloody difficult now, with the store under their watchful eye.”

  “Hmm… you`re probably right. As I said, what we`ve got to do is make them remove the paintings themselves.”

  “Ach, laddie, and how do you do that?”

  “It`s a problem, that`s for sure. But let me outline an idea. One that just might work, if we can coordinate all that needs to be done. But it will entail using others. This is what I got in mind… tell me what you think.”

  *

  “Alan, are you crazy?” declared Roger. “I had my suspicions you were caught up in it somehow, but never like this.”

  “Call it filial piety. I respected my grandfather dearly. More than you can possibly imagine. I don`t want to be the one who turns round and bites the hand that housed, educated and set me on the road to doing what I love best.”

  “You realise this could put me in a very difficult position,” he muttered. “I could not only lose everything that I, too, have worked for, but worse, I could be sharing a prison cell with you.”

  “Look, you don`t have to become involved. I would certainly never mention your name to anyone. All I wanted was to explain my position, and ask for your help in sourcing uniforms and a few other items. At the end of the day, it is my intention to return the paintings I possess
to their rightful owners, and secure the Turners. If we get it right, you could well receive the plaudits for their recovery.”

  I did not mention that, as yet, I had no clear idea how to manage this part of any arrangement.

  “Hmm… ”

  He thought about it for a few minutes.

  “OK. I`ll help. But I want no comebacks. Is that understood?”

  I leaned across the desk in his office and shook his hand.

  “Thank you. You have my word.”

  “Whatever you have in mind, do it quickly. There`s no way I want to wear any of my disguises for the rest of my life.”

  I grinned at him.

  He shook his head as though it was all against his better judgement. Which it probably was.

  We were still staring at each other when the phone rang.

  “Hello? Roger Tamworth speaking… Right, I`ll hold.”

  He put his hand over the receiver.

  “It`s another company I occasionally work for,” he murmured.

  “Yes, hello Mr Halliday… Yes, I shall… Yes, I`ve put my best people onto it. Goodbye, Mr Halliday.”

  He returned the phone to its rest.

  “That was a firm commissioned by the gallery in Newcastle asking me to trace the whereabouts of The Beach. I am also employed by the insurance company which has just realised its likely value. A good part of the insurance cover was laid off with others apparently, but they are still liable for a tidy sum. The trouble is, they now foresee a large black hole in their finances looming.”

  He looked at me keenly.

  “Do you know anything about The Beach by Laura Knight?”

  “Only that it was stolen when we were putting together a programme on the Newlyn School painters.”

  “What the hell am I getting into? I`m putting my neck on the block here, Alan. Don`t let me down.”

  *

  McClean met him off the train.

  “Welcome to bonny Scotland, Jim.”

  Though it was far from bonny: a cold east wind was whipping up the drizzle and sweeping it across the city.

  “Any further forward, Frank?”

  “I think so. At least there`s a glimmer of light I want to pursue.”

  They walked out to the waiting police car and got in the back seats.

  “Can you take us back to the station, please, Rory,” requested McClean.

  “So what`s the glimmer of light?” asked Timmings.

  “There were two trucks, seemingly from the same company, at the secure facility at Carlisle that night, Jim.”

  “Which means?”

  “The company, Travis Fine Art Services, only sent one. The other was a rogue vehicle, which arrived at the lorry park at eleven thirty, and left at four in the morning. Three hours before the one en route to Glasgow left the compound. So… what was it doing there? If the stolen artwork left in this truck, how did they manage the transfer? Or, and this is an interesting thought, did they simply change the people?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “They managed, somehow, to put the driver, the relief driver, the insurance man and the guard into a replica of the real truck. At the same time they neatly transferred all the communications equipment.”

  “The electrical supply would have been broken. Surely, that would have been picked up by the operations room back at Travis?”

  “Supposing they linked the vehicle`s electronics to a battery, and just re-connected it to the same wiring in the dummy truck.”

  “I suppose it`s feasible, Frank. How can you check your theory?”

  “Although the forensic team said the vehicle was clean, I asked them to do a minute search for any residues from the ropes and ties securing the crates. I gave them samples of these to compare.

  “In addition, I`ve asked for a check on the Vehicle Identification Plate, the VIN number. To compare it with what they hold at the DVLA. Also, I`m expecting a call from the driver. I want to know if he found anything odd or different in the handling of the truck when he started out from Carlisle. If he did, we might have another glimmer of light.”

  *

  “You have probably heard, Mr Ioannidis, that the Turner paintings have mysteriously disappeared. The ransom note defining our terms has been received, and I have now heard a section of the British Museum has been cordoned off for renovation. I believe it is the moment we regard phase one as complete. As a consequence, I would like to call upon you, as agreed.”

  “Of course, Herr Engel. As you say, according to our little agreement.”

  Hardly a `little agreement`, thought Engel.

  Ioannidis continued. “When would you like to call, Herr Engel?”

  “Shall we say Thursday afternoon?”

  “That will be acceptable. Do you want my helicopter to collect you from the airport?”

  “No, thank you. I shall make my own way to Roquebrune.”

  “Then, until Thursday afternoon.”

  The connection on the satellite phone was broken.

  Engel smiled to himself. He had requested a banker`s draft for two thirds of the first payment, and the remainder in US currency. Almost four million dollars.

  His man would drive him from Vitznau in the car to collect that amount of money.

  *

  They had been checking the screens diligently at first. But after two days, decided to record everything from the three cameras, and fast forward the results. If anything did occur, it would instantly register on the static scene.

  The three of them were playing back the last twenty four hours. Each checking the daylight pictures from a particular camera, when, almost in unison, there was a chorus of shouting.

  “What the fuck is that?”

  “Christ, we got visitors!”

  “We`ve got a problem here!”

  They gathered round the main monitor to view the pictures.

  A car, with a distinctive revolving blue light on the roof, swept into the forecourt of the warehouse in Dinah`s Hollow Road. It pulled round in a circle, came to a halt, and two figures emerged. Two police officers.

  They walked slowly towards the entrance, and knocked on the wicket gate set in one of the large sliding doors.

  Receiving no reply, the pair strolled over to a side window, to find it shuttered, allowing no sight of the interior. Whereupon, one of the policemen took a phone from his jacket and appeared to be reporting their findings.

  “Bloody hell, they`re on to us,” murmured one.

  “I`m not so sure. It might be just a routine check on the premises,” said another.

  “Either way, we`d better notify Nicholls. See what he says we should do.”

  *

  Neither Nicholls, the UK agent, or anyone in the schloss at Vitznau could be reached.

  Worse was to come.

  That same evening, just as it was growing dark, two cars drew into the forecourt of the store in Dinah`s Hollow Road.

  Both complete with flashing blue lights and men in police uniforms. On this occasion, they appeared more intent on gaining access. It was forty minutes before they eventually left, their efforts to gain entry clearly thwarted. However, it appeared a strong possibility they did not intend to give up.

  *

  The phone rang in Mead Court.

  “Hello?” answered Alan`s mother. “Mr McKenna? Who wants him? Oh, I see… Yes, he is here, just a moment.”

  He was standing beside her and took the phone. “McKenna… What was that? You want to move everything from the store? Why? I see, well I could probably arrange it tomorrow morning… What do you mean, now? Does Engel know about this? I see. OK, I`ll see what I can do. Give me your number.”

  McKenna winked at me. He wrote something on a pad.

  “OK, I`ll have to go over to haulage company at Blandford Forum to check how we do it. I`ll phone you in an hour. No, I can`t make it any quicker. I`ll be in touch.”

  He put down the receiver, and rubbed his hands.

  “They`ve taken the bait, la
ddie,” he grinned.

  Chapter 41

  I sat beside McKenna while he drove the Land Rover along the Higher Shaftesbury Road towards Blandford Forum. Crossing the A350 he turned into the industrial area. Fortunately, grandfather`s haulage company was located to one side of the estate. There would be less chance of encountering other vehicles using the same roadway. Certainly not at night.

  John Fielding, the manager, was waiting for us.

  Ever since we had discussed the need to encourage removal from Dinah`s Hollow, McKenna had been busy. He had scoured charity shops, bazaars and markets, and acquired a substantial number of indifferent paintings. Then he had taken Fielding marginally into his confidence, on a need-to-know basis. As a result, one of the warehouses had been set aside for a moment such as this.

  “It`s ready when you are, McKenna,” said Fielding. “I`ve got the packing materials and tools standing by. Once they arrive we can start straight away.”

  “Well done, John,” McKenna remarked. “Right, I`ll give them a call.”

  *

  An hour later the coach and Gurlitt`s truck arrived and were driven directly into a warehouse.

  “What happens now?” enquired one of the trio. “We`d better stay with the vehicles until we speak with Nicholls. He should… ”

  “Can`t do that, laddie, I`m afraid,” interrupted McKenna. “This is a working yard. There are forklifts buzzing around, and lorries coming and going all the time. You lot would stand out like a sore thumb. Speak with whomever you want, decide what you want to do, then come back here at the same time tomorrow night.

  “Either way, we have to get rid of the truck, but that is not so critical as the transporter. This is only a temporary measure. The warehouse will need to be in use within forty eight hours. Tell that to your masters.”

  The leader stepped forward. “OK, but I want the doors firmly secured, and the keys to the doors and padlocks handed over to me.”

  He held out his hand. Fielding passed him two sets of keys.

  “These the only ones?”

  Fielding nodded.

  “Right… we`ll be back at the same time tomorrow.”