The Gilded Mirror

by L. M. Somerton

  Basim’s place was packed because despite originating from Faisalabad and producing some amazing Pakistani cuisine thanks to his mom’s recipes, Basim cooked a mean American breakfast and everyone local knew it. His short stacks were legendary, and he’d managed to perfect the crispiest strips of bacon.

  “This place is heaving, I’m not sure we’re going to get in,” Landry said, peering through the window.

  Gage, who had a height advantage, waved at Basim from the doorway. Basim grinned and beckoned them over. Gage used his body to clear a path through the crowd, Landry tucked in behind him. Basim fingered the ends of his spectacular moustache. “Gage, Landry, it is madness in here this morning. The whole of Seattle needs Basim’s pancakes. You want breakfast?”

  “We do, but you seem to have the most popular diner in Seattle.” Landry couldn’t see a spare stool or table anywhere.

  “For my friends, I find space. Follow me through to the kitchen.” Basim found Landry and Gage a spot where two stools were pushed up against a prep counter a few feet away from where the kitchen staff were cooking up a storm. “Sit, relax. I’ll bring you food.”

  Landry beamed. “You’re the best, Basim. I’ll say nice things about you to your mom next time I speak to her.”

  Basim bustled away but soon returned with miniature cups of potent coffee and a few minutes after that a procession of plates began arriving, seemingly carrying samples of virtually everything on the breakfast menu. Gage was in heaven, and Landry stole little bits of everything. “This has to be the best breakfast ever,” Landry said, around a mouthful of syrup-soaked pancake.

  “I’m gonna have to add half an hour to my workouts every day for the next month,” Gage mumbled. “I don’t care, it’s worth it.”

  They ate steadily, with Basim’s cooks insisting that they try new creations as well as their favorites. Landry finally pushed his plate away. “That’s it, I can’t eat another bite or I’ll burst. Coffee now, that’s a different matter. I wonder if there’s a table free out front. I want to people watch and absorb caffeine.”

  Gage heaved himself off his stool. “Let’s go see.” He ordered coffee as they passed the counter where Basim and one of his staff were handling take-out orders. There was some space in the diner, and Gage snagged a corner booth next to the window thanks to a well-directed stare at the two chattering, twentysomethings who had the temerity to think they might get there first.

  Landry settled into his seat feeling fat and contented. He patted his belly. “Can you check your messages? Now my brain isn’t focused on food, I’m desperate to find out if there was anything down that well and if James Ellery is under lock and key. That would make my day.”

  “And mine. He wouldn’t look good in a prison uniform.” Gage grinned. He pulled out his cell and checked his messages. Landry fidgeted while Gage listened.

  “Two from Sancha complaining about the amount of paperwork I create and one from London. DI Hughes asking me to call him back.”

  “What time is it in England?”

  “Late afternoon, he’ll still be at work.”

  “I want to hear what he says too. You can’t put the phone on speaker in here so should we take our coffee to go?”

  “Okay. Let’s go back to the store.”

  Landry hopped from foot to foot while Gage arranged their take outs and paid for breakfast, insisting on giving Basim something even though he tried to wave Gage’s money away.

  “You really need some training in how to stay calm. This isn’t going to help—I should have got you decaf.” Gage thrust a cup of coffee into Landry’s hand.

  “You can spank me, tie me up, put me in chastity but forcing me to drink decaffeinated coffee is a step too far.” Landry forgot to lower his voice and was overheard by several of Basim’s patrons as Gage dragged him out onto the street.

  “I think you’ve just traumatized some of Basim’s regulars.”

  “You should be worried about my trauma,” Landry exclaimed. “Unbelievable.”

  “Do you want me to make this call, or not?”

  Landry scuffed his foot on the sidewalk. “Of course I do. Is that Petey, outside Treasure Trove?”

  “It is.”

  Landry ran the last few yards to his friend. “Gage is going to ring his policeman friend in England and find out what happened at St. Cuthbert’s. Wanna come and listen?”

  “Yes!” Petey bounced with excitement. “I just swept the porch. The workmen are finished so I thought we may as well open. You can still have your day off, though. Mr. Lao said he’d be back later, and I can manage for a while. It seems a shame to close on such a nice day.”

  “And Carson’s on shift so you’ve got nothing better to do,” Landry said, laughing.

  “I like to keep busy when he’s not here. I lose my focus when he’s not around and then get clumsy and drop things, but it doesn’t seem to happen in the store. I think this place has an atmosphere of gravitas. It makes me responsible.”

  “If only it had the same effect on Landry,” Gage said, joining them.

  “Hey! Responsibility is way overrated. You’re completely crazy, Petey, and that’s why I love you.” Landry followed Petey into the store. He and Petey shared the floral chaise longue while Gage sank into the leather club chair to make his call.

  “Simon, it’s Gage. You’re on speaker. What news do you have for me?”

  “Gage, how are things there in Seattle? I need to get over there for a visit.”

  “Not raining, so good thanks and you’d be welcome any time, my friend. How was your trip to the north yesterday?”

  “Well, I’ve got good news and I’ve got bad news.” Landry gripped Petey’s hand. “The good news is that we did find something hidden down Cuddy’s well as it’s known locally and it was almost certainly a painting. The bad news is that the wrapping around it had disintegrated and the painting was little more than a soggy pile of mush. We’ll get it tested to see if we can ascertain its age but if it was the Portrait of a Young Man, it’s gone. With everything you told me about what you and Landry found, and the lengths someone went to to hide it, it could well have been the portrait. The canvas wrapping was certainly the right size.”

  Landry tried to hide his disappointment. Petey squeezed his fingers.

  “That’s a shame,” Gage said. “It would have been amazing to find it intact, but I suppose it was always a long shot.”

  “We had to send one of our young coppers down the well. It took him a while, but he found a loose stone with a cavity hidden behind it. If he hadn’t been specifically looking, and testing every stone, there’s no way anyone else would have come across it by accident. Whoever used it as a hiding place, never intended for the treasure to be found by anyone not of their choosing.”

  “Well, it vindicates the search at least. I suppose it’ll take a while to date the remains.”

  “The art world is not known for its speed,” DI Hughes said. “I don’t know if decayed, pulpy paper and paint is even datable, but I’ll let you know as soon as I hear anything, one way or the other.”

  Landry poked Gage’s arm. “What about Ellery?”

  “Was there any sign of that guy I told you about, James Ellery?” Gage asked.

  There was a moment’s silence. Petey, Landry and Gage exchanged glances.

  “Ah, yes, well… That’s a little embarrassing.”

  “Spit it out, Simon. Did you get your hands on that slippery son of a bitch, or not?”

  “We did and we didn’t.”

  “He got away, didn’t he?” Landry shouted.

  “With hindsight,” Inspector Hughes said, “I should have been more suspicious of a uniformed constable who happened to have climbing gear in the boot of his car. But, in my defense, young men have hobbies, don’t they? We had asked the local station to send someone who could climb. He was blond, bearded, had a local accent and saved us a lot of time and effort by volunteering to go down the well. Said he was a member of the local mountain
rescue team and had been asked to bring his gear along. But afterward, when I looked around to thank him, he’d disappeared. Turns out the local nick doesn’t have any coppers by the name he gave me, and Mountain Rescue had never heard of him.”

  “Sounds just like the kind of thing he’d pull off,” Gage said. “Though, he didn’t have a beard when he was operating over here.”

  “Is there any way he could have brought something else out of the well without you seeing?” Landry asked.

  “Absolutely not. He seemed pretty disappointed that he hadn’t found anything more exciting than some pulpy scraps of paper.”

  “Thanks for telling us, Simon,” Gage said. “We’d be very interested to hear any information on the paper when the boffins are finished with it. It was good to talk to you. If you ever need a favor in the future, you know where I am.”

  “Sure, mate. I’ll talk to you soon. Bye.”

  “James Ellery is the sneakiest bastard I’ve ever come across,” Gage said.

  “He certainly has a set of cast-iron balls.” Landry massaged his temples. “He must have been mightily annoyed not to find the portrait down that well. I take comfort in him having gotten wet and dirty at least.”

  “It must have been horrible down there,” Petey said. “All dark and slimy. There were probably rats. And snakes.”

  “I’m not sure they have many snakes in England,” Landry said. “Though James Ellery certainly qualifies. I can’t believe he’s added impersonating a police officer to his catalogue of crime. He’s going to get away with it again, isn’t he?”

  Gage scowled. “Knowing him, yes. I wouldn’t think Simon will want to waste resources on tracking him down.”

  “I guess it was always most likely that the portrait would be destroyed, but I kind of hoped it was intact. How wonderful if it had been preserved all these years and survived so many adventures.”

  “You’re such a romantic.” Gage leaned across and gave Landry a kiss. “And by the way, I don’t want you thinking about that man’s balls. Ever.”

  Petey snickered. “You’re in big trouble now, Lan.”

  Landry eyed Gage. “Oh God, I hope so.”

  Chapter Eighteen

  Four weeks later

  Landry, Gage, Petey and Carson sat around a low table in a quiet corner of Scorch, well back from the dance floor where it was quiet enough to hold a conversation. A dozen plates containing a range of appetizers sat on the table. Carson was feeding Petey all his favorites while Gage and Landry were sharing some very garlicky prawns. Landry picked up a copy of the Seattle Times with greasy fingers. He’d brought it from home to show Petey, who hadn’t seen it yet. “I still don’t fucking believe it.” He stared at the front page in disgust. It showed a picture of the Portrait of a Young Man alongside the beaming face of James Ellery. “‘Astounding find.’ Couldn’t they have come up with a better headline than that? Something more accurate, like ‘sneaky Brit steals old master’. He was on every news channel this morning too, and I got alerts on my cell. Lord help me!”

  “I knew he’d found something when he sent me that text. ‘Better luck next time.’ The nerve of him. Damn it! There won’t be a next time, if I ever get my hands on him.” Gage scowled. “That man makes me want to get violent.”

  “Can I help?” Landry asked. “I could bring Petey’s carpet beater.”

  “Yes, love. You can.” Gage gave Landry a kiss.

  “This was such a great plan, Gage,” Petey said. “I hate that you and Landry didn’t get the glory, so a commiseration celebration seems entirely fitting. After all the work you and Landry did to track down the Raphael, it’s not fair. Yummy snacks make up for it, though.”

  “Love your priorities, honey.” Carson slipped a slither of melon between Petey’s lips.

  “And James fucking Ellery gets all the credit,” Landry said, stuffing a whole mozzarella stick in his mouth. “This entire article makes him out to be a hero. So magnanimous, gifting his find to the nation so that it can be returned to its rightful owner. Like he had any choice. Fuckety fuckety fuck!”

  “He’s unbelievable. He got exactly what he wanted—publicity. He’s a master of spin. But we know the truth,” Gage said. “The main thing is that the painting will go back to where it belongs and that it survived. That’s a miracle in itself and some compensation, I suppose.”

  “How did he do it, though?” Carson asked. “Your DI friend was convinced he didn’t bring anything else back up with him on the day they searched the well, wasn’t he?”

  “Simon, who’s mad as hell by the way, thinks Ellery came prepared. Initial findings date the canvas and paper mush he produced to the right period. I’d say he took something he’d made down the well with him so he could ‘discover’ it. That meant that if he found the real thing, he could leave it there. It wouldn’t have been difficult to go back again later. They thought they’d found what was left of the painting. There would have been no need for the British authorities to watch the well or go back for another look. We know he could climb and had the kit. Under cover of darkness in a rural place, no one would have spotted him. Simon told me that if Ellery has so much as an outstanding parking ticket, they’ll be all over him like a very nasty, itchy crotch rash. His words, not mine, though I do like his thinking. I dearly hope they find something to pin on that bastard.”

  Carson snorted. “Fuck him. Who wants their face all over the papers anyway? We have good food and good company, Gage and Sancha are crime solving heroes thanks to closing the money laundering case, I got together with Petey because of that…” He sucked up a mark on Petey’s neck. “And Landry, with a little bit of help from his friends, solved one of the greatest mysteries of our time. Not bad at all.”

  “We rock.” Landry lifted his glass of juice in a toast. “To us.” Everyone joined in the toast then Landry scrambled into Gage’s lap “We are so lucky, and I guess Carson’s right, I don’t think I would have wanted all the attention that would have come with discovering the picture. We’d have had no privacy for ages and paparazzi would have been blocking the pavement outside the store. Mr. Lao wouldn’t have liked that! It could have put off the customers.” He wriggled. “Damn, these pants are tight.”

  “But they look fine.” Gage laid his hand over Landry’s rubber-covered crotch. “Sir!”

  “Well, if you will dress to tempt me, what do you expect?”

  “A little restraint in public?” Landry squeaked.

  “Scorch is hardly public, Landry. Look around you.” Gage chuckled. “And besides, I know damn well you love it. We’re tame compared to what some people are getting up to in here.” He tweaked the chain that ran from Landry’s collar beneath the waistband of his pants where it was attached to a heavy cock ring.

  Landry whimpered. “You are a bad, bad person. Tormenting poor little me when I’ve been good all day.”

  “You have an interesting definition of good.”

  “Good is me risking my manhood in these pants. It’s not complaining about a cock ring that makes me hard but won’t let me come. It’s kneeling at your feet on a cushion that needed a whole ’nother duck’s worth of feathers to make it comfortable—and just so we’re clear I mean feathers that have been donated voluntarily.” He nodded. “So there.”

  “So it wasn’t you that snuck out to Krispy Kreme this morning, bought a box of donuts then ate three of them yourself?”

  “No?” Landry blinked.

  “Yes!” Petey and Carson shouted together.

  “Traitors,” Landry muttered. “Well yes, but I was hungry and I didn’t eat all of them.”

  “Still, I think I’m entitled to a little bit of payback, don’t you?” Gage played with the chain a little more.

  “I saved one for you!”

  “You ate the chocolate custard. That’s my favorite. You know that but you ate it anyway. I see a great deal of chastity in your future, young man.”

  Landry sighed. “What’s new? Like you even need an excuse to
imprison my poor, defenseless dick.”

  Gage turned him over his knee, treating him to a very abrupt view of the floor. Half a dozen swift whacks to his ass followed. Gage lifted Landry back into place on his lap where Landry couldn’t hide his grin or his burgeoning erection.

  “You know that’s not going to stop me eating the chocolate custard next time, don’t you?” Landry shared a conspiratorial grin with Petey.

  “Sadly, I do, but listen, I have news. A surprise,” Gage said. “Not that a donut thief deserves it, but it’s something to make up for the asshole-Brit-who-will-not-be-named.”

  Landry looked at him expectantly “I love surprises… Wait, is it the kind of surprise that ends up with me tied to the bed with something vibrating up my ass?”

  “No.” Gage rolled his eyes. “Not this time.”

  “Did you buy that sling you were looking at on the web the other day?” Landry bounced.

  “Well yes, but that’s not the surprise.”

  “So tell me! Do you know what’s going on?” Landry accused Petey.

  Petey shrugged. “Maybe?”

  “So not fair!” Landry whined. “Why am I the only person who doesn’t know the big secret?”

  “If you stop talking for thirty seconds, I’d be able to tell you.” Gage said.

  “You could just gag him,” Carson suggested, making Petey giggle and Landry pout. “Then you might get a word in.”

  “Give me strength.” Gage gagged Landry’s mouth with his hand. “Mr. Lao has an old friend who deals in coins and medals. He took the cross and the coin from the tin we found behind the waterfall and gave them to him for evaluation. It’s taken a while because he needed to be sure, but it turns out that the coin is quite valuable. It’s a rare one, worth around twenty thousand dollars.”

  “You’re kidding!” Landry exclaimed. “That’s brilliant. I thought it might be worth a few hundred dollars but hadn’t gotten around to doing anything about it. But it doesn’t belong to me, does it? I’ll have to hand it in.”