Heads You Win

Alex watched with admiration as the seven men fanned out and went about their task with efficiency and skill. While one of them removed a picture from the wall, another covered it in bubble wrap, and a third placed it in a crate ready to be stacked in the van. Mr. Rosenthal had faxed through the exact measurements the previous evening, and another team had worked through the night to have the crates ready in time. All of them on double time.

“They look as if they’ve done this before,” said Alex.

“Yes, Monty specializes in divorce and death. Wives who need to remove valuables after their husbands have left for work and before they return in the evening.”

Alex laughed. “And death?”

“Children who want to move paintings and furniture that they agreed with their parents wouldn’t be mentioned in the will. It’s a thriving business, and Monty is almost always on double time.”

“Is there anything I can do to help?”

“I need you to go to the bank and make sure everything is ready by the time Monty and his team turn up, which should be around four o’clock this afternoon. There’ll need to be someone waiting at the back door to accompany Monty to a secure vault that’s large enough to house seventy-one paintings. Once that’s done, please come straight back to the house.”

“And will the van also be returning to Beacon Hill?”

“Oh yes. After all, they will only have done half the job.”

“Then I’d better get going.” There were several questions Alex would have liked to ask Mr. Rosenthal, but he accepted that “need to know” must have been his family motto. As Alex left the house, the first picture was being loaded onto the van.

“And what would you like me to do, Mr. Rosenthal?” asked Anna.

“Double-check the inventory, and make sure they only pack those paintings with yellow stickers. Our real job won’t begin until they get back from the bank, when the remaining fifty-three pictures will be loaded onto the van and taken to New York.”

“But they’re only copies,” said Anna.

“True,” said Rosenthal. “But they still have to be returned to their rightful owner.”

*   *   *

“The Warhol’s stowed safely in the hold,” said Anna as the plane lifted off. “Has the rest of the collection arrived in Nice?”

“Yes,” said Rosenthal. “I called Pierre Gerand again as soon as I got back to New York on Sunday night. He’s one of the leading abstract dealers in Paris, and an old friend who’s familiar with the Lowell Collection, as his grandfather sold three pictures to Mr. Lowell’s father when he was touring Europe in 1947. I told him that a large consignment of paintings was on its way to Nice, and asked him to arrange for Monsieur Duval to collect them and store them until we arrive. He phoned back yesterday to let me know that Evelyn and Mr. Halliday were spotted boarding an Air France flight for Boston that morning. That’s when I called to remind you not to forget the Warhol. So by the time we touch down in Nice, everything should be in place. Pierre and Monsieur Duval will meet us off the plane.”

“So now all we have to do is get the rest of the collection back,” said Anna.

“Which will be no small undertaking. At least we’re in the hands of professionals. But should we fail…”

“Alex tells me the bank will go bust and we’ll be broke.”

“So, no pressure,” said Rosenthal. “Mind you, I could always offer Alex a job as a runner at the gallery. He’d be rather good at it.”

“Or he could have my job, as you’ll need someone to fill in for me when the baby is born.”

“No, he’s not that good,” said Rosenthal, as the plane reached forty thousand feet and banked toward the east.

*   *   *

“How much notice do you have to give?” said Ackroyd.

“The bank’s statutes require fourteen days,” said Fowler, “so I was thinking of sending letters to all the directors this morning.”

“But the moment Miss Robbins opens the mail, she’ll be alerted and tell Karpenko about the emergency board meeting, and if he’s half as bright as you say he is, it won’t take him long to work out what we’re up to.”

“I’d thought of that,” said Fowler, “and intend to send Karpenko’s letter to his apartment in Brooklyn. Now that he’s taken up residence in Boston, it will be lying on his doormat until he returns.”

“And the motion to replace him as chairman will have been passed before he has a chance to do anything about it. So why don’t you post those letters, Ray?”

*   *   *

Anna emerged from the plane soon after they’d touched down in Nice, and was greeted by a warm evening breeze. She wished Alex was with her to share her first visit to France. But she knew he couldn’t risk being away from his desk for even a few hours.

Once they’d cleared customs and walked into the arrivals hall, a man, dressed in an open-necked floral shirt and a now fashionable light blue suit, rushed up to Rosenthal and kissed him on both cheeks.

“Welcome, mon ami. Allow me to introduce you to Dominic Duval, whom I have chosen to mastermind this operation.”