Sashi Bluntstone, now 11 years of age, skyrocketed to prominence at age four when her Abstract Expressionist paintings-most often likened to those of Jackson Pollock and Wassily Kandinsky-began selling for tens of thousands of dollars. She had several shows at prominent New York galleries, but serious art critics questioned Miss Bluntstone’s talent.
More damaging perhaps, were the serious allegations that she didn’t, in fact, author the paintings, and that they were done by her father, Max Bluntstone, a one-time performance artist. These charges led to an expose done by Nathan Flowers of CNN. In the expose, Mr. Flowers stated that “… while I cannot say who does do the work, I can tell you Sashi does not.”
That statement caused a firestorm of charges and countercharges and a lawsuit is pending. After Flowers’ report, Sashi Bluntstone’s work began disappearing from gallery walls and Sashi herself withdrew from the public eye. Her last show and public appearance was nearly one year ago. Very little is known about the circumstances surrounding Miss Bluntstone’s alleged disappearance, but it is clear this tiny village, one square mile in area, has been shaken to its core. Pradeep Patel, a physician and neighbor of the Bluntstones, summed it up well: “It is all most unsettling.”
Although the article wasn’t about Marina Conseco, it might just as well have been. The net result would be the same.
“Okay, I’ve read it.”
“That’s all you’ve got to say?”
“What do you want me to say, Sarah?”
“Haven’t you heard about this? It’s been all over the news.”
“I’ve been busy with the new store. You know how crazy your Uncle Aaron gets when we’re going to open a new store. Besides, since your mom… I just don’t pay much attention to the news anymore.”
“That’s Candy’s daughter, Dad.”
“I didn’t need a PI license to figure that out, but what can I do about it?”
“It’s been three weeks.”
“Does anyone have a sense of what really happened?” I asked.
“They don’t know. Candy and Max thought she was in her studio painting and when they went to get her for dinner, she wasn’t there. First, they thought she’d just gone for a walk on the beach. She did that sometimes, but she didn’t come home. When they called the police, the police said that she had probably just run away.”
“Sounds reasonable.”
“Not anymore.”
“No,” I agreed, “not anymore.”
“The cops and neighbors searched for her and found nothing. Now the police think she was…”
“Kidnapped?”
“Abducted,” she said. “There’s been no ransom demand.”
“Listen, Sarah, it’s awful. If it had been you, your mom and I would have been sick with panic, but we’re back to my original question: what do you want me to say?”
“I want you to say you’ll go talk to Candy about it. She wants to hire you to help find Sashi.”
“I can’t do that.”
“You mean you won’t do it.”
“Okay, yeah, I won’t.”
“Why?”
“You, of all people, shouldn’t have to ask,” I said.
“I’m asking anyway.”
“Because my getting involved with people’s lives this way is what got your mother killed and I’m not going down that road again.”
“Do it for me.”
“You’re precisely why I won’t do it. I’ll take the guilt over Katy’s murder to my grave, but that guilt’s just background noise compared to the hurt I’ve felt for the last seven years over what happened between us. Even in the worst of times, when your mom miscarried, when our marriage collapsed, when my friend Larry Mac committed suicide, I always had you and your love to hang on to. We were a team, me and you, kiddo. You were always the best part of me and as long as you loved me, I knew there was hope in the world. Well, the world and me, we’ve kinda parted ways since you parted ways with me.”
Sarah was sobbing quietly, tears streaming down her face. I wanted to reach over and wipe the tears off her cheeks, to make it all better like I had many, many times in her life. All it used to take was a reassuring kiss on her forehead, a hug, and a confident whisper from me about how everything was going to be okay, but we both knew better than that. There were things that could happen, that did happen, that couldn’t be made right. Humpty Dumpty wasn’t the only one who couldn’t be put back together again. And, frankly, I wasn’t at all sure that if I did reach out to her, my arms-long as they were-could span the distance between us.
“Please, Dad, do it for Sashi. She’s just a frightened little girl who’s had a very strange life.”
“Do what? What could I do? I’m one person and I haven’t worked a case in seven years. All my police contacts have died or moved to Florida.”
“Isn’t that the same thing?” she said, a hint of a smile peeking through the veil of tears.
“You always did have my sense of humor. Still, I don’t even know where my license is, for chrissakes.”
“You’re good at this stuff.”
“I was always just lucky.”
“Right now, I think Candy would take lucky. Please, Dad.”
“Let me think about it, all right?”
Sarah stood up, came around to my side of the booth and threw her arms around me. She put her head on my shoulder and whispered, “Thank you, Daddy. Thank you.”
It was the first time she had let down the barrier between us since we buried Katy, and I knew right then there would be no thinking about it. I was back in the game.
Transcript from Nathan Flowers’ investigative report
“Little Genius or Little Grifter”
NATHAN FLOWERS: Hi, Sashi, my name’s Nathan. Would it be all right with you if we talked about your paintings for a few minutes? (Unresponsive, silence)
MAX BLUNTSTONE: Sashi, come on, Mr. Flowers is from TV and came all the way here just to tell everyone about your paintings. (Camera cuts to Flowers. Smile gone. Expression hostile)
SASHI BLUNTSTONE: Hi. (Disinterested)
NF: So, can we talk a little about your work?
SB: No. I don’t feel like talking. I want to take Cara for a walk on the beach. (Staring at her father)
NF: Cara?
SB: She’s my dog. She’s a crazy beagle and she eats everything.
NF: (Smiling) Does she eat your paintings sometimes?
SB: You’re silly, mister. (Giggles) Cara doesn’t like my paintings.
NF: I do. Lots of people do.
SB: I know that. (Frowns) Where’s Cara, Daddy?
MB: I’ll get her in a minute, but let’s just answer Mr. Flowers’ questions right now.
SB: Okay. (Still frowning)
NF: Thank you, Sashi. Do you like your paintings?
SB: (Shrugs her shoulders) Sometimes.
NF: When do you like them?
SB: When I make swirlies. I love blue swirlies. (Rotates her hand as if painting circles)
NF: When you do the blue swirlies, does anyone help you with the other parts of the-
MB: (Standing up) That’s it! Stop filming, now. (Camera shakes, shows fingers covering lens)
NF: Why does that question irritate you so? (Audio only)
SB: Where’s Cara, Dad?
MB: (Deleted) you, Flowers! Come on, Sashi. Let’s get Cara.
