‘In anger, the turned on me. Not believing that I had no clue to where their paintings were, they brought two lead pipes from their car and began thrashing me. Lead pipes wrapped in cloth tend to cause serious injuries that may not be visible from the outside. They may not break the skin, but they will shatter the bones.
‘They pounded me mercilessly and broke my legs in multiple places. Several times, I lost consciousness, but they splashed water on me and woke me up. Each time they would ask, “Where are the paintings?” How I endured that hour, I don’t know. But I will never forget the agony of it.
‘Just as I passed out for the last time, I saw a familiar figure materializing behind the Künzi Brothers–Sebastian. He hit one of the villains on the head and knocked him down. After that, I don’t know what happened.
‘The next thing I remember is waking up in a hospital three weeks later. It was the middle of the night, and Sebastian was beside me. He told me what had happened, and said that he hadn’t told anyone about the Künzi Brothers assaulting me. The story he had told everyone was that I had been badly injured in a car crash. I didn’t know why he asked me to do this, but I played along. After all, he had saved my life.
‘Over the next few weeks, the rest of the story slowly emerged. That’s when I learnt of Fessler’s death and Jacob’s arrest. I also learnt that the Künzi brothers had died in a car crash in the Danube valley.
‘At first, Sebastian feigned ignorance. But I knew better. I knew that he had somehow engineered a car crash forty miles from where we had lived. He never told me the details, but I had no doubt that he had wreaked revenge on the Künzi Brothers for what they had done to me. I saw it in his eyes, in his young face that I knew so well. Each time he saw my mangled legs, he would shed tears and a look of grim satisfaction would shine through.
‘I still had no idea what had become of the Balsano landscapes. In fact, I was under the firm impression that the Künzi Brothers had been mistaken in the first place. When I came out of the hospital two months later, I was confined to a wheelchair. I couldn’t go around my shop very much, and it was Sebastian who managed everything.
‘It was only four years after I had returned to India that I discovered the four paintings. When I confronted Sebastian, he was unapologetic. In fact, he was surprised and offended. The four paintings were mine, he said. They were small compensation for what the Künzi Brothers had done to me. They were mine to do what I chose with them.
‘Fessler had died heirless, and had drawn up an elaborate will, dividing his collection among a dozen museums. The Balsano landscapes, never having been catalogued in his collection, were never noticed. His will had long since been executed and his assets distributed as per his instructions. That was essentially a closed chapter.
‘As far as the art world knew, the Balsano landscapes were owned by someone somewhere, and there wasn’t even the faintest suspicion that they had been stolen. Which meant I could sell them openly if I chose to do so, and they would fetch a handsome price. Whether to keep them or to sell them, Sebastian said, was my decision.
‘I consulted my Sujata, my wife. She agreed with Sebastian. She too said that they were small compensation for what I had suffered. Providence had gifted me the paintings. After all, I had spent a fortune on medical bills.
‘I then went to my father. He too was of the same view as Sujata and Sebastian. Besides, he told me, if I were to rake up the old story and tell the world that the paintings had been stolen, I would leave myself open to criminal proceedings. The fact remained that they had been in my possession all these years, and I had kept quiet.
‘In addition, I would bring down serious indictments on Sebastian’s head–the very man who had saved my life and had stuck with me through all this. He could have chosen to sell the paintings himself and pocket the money. He would have been a rich man.
‘I thought about it, and decided to remain silent. There was no risk in it except one–Jacob Lopez. He would soon be released, and we did not know how much he knew. Did he know that the Künzi Brothers had thrown the metal tube with the Balsano landscapes into my antique shop? We had no idea. It was best that we stayed low.
‘That’s what I did, Mr Athreya. I stayed low. I spoke nothing of the four paintings. Wherever I happened to be–Bangalore, Chennai or here–I always found a safe hiding place for them. That is the story of my crippled legs and of the Balsano landscapes.’
They went silently along the walkways as Bhaskar fell quiet. Athreya considered all that he had heard, and decided that Bhaskar had spoken the truth. That is what had happened in the past.
Now, they had to deal with the present; the present in which Jacob Lopez had probably come to India. If the paintings had been worth $ 27 million then, they would be worth much more now. That was enough to kill for.
By this time, they were near the chapel. Athreya stepped towards it. After a moment’s hesitation, Bhaskar followed. They entered the building together and went up to the altar.
‘You always found a good hiding place for the paintings,’ Athreya said softly. ‘That’s what you said. When you renovated Greybrooke Manor, you actually built a hiding place for them, didn’t you?’
Bhaskar stared silently at Athreya, his facial expression giving nothing away.
‘That is what led to the murders,’ Athreya went on. ‘Somehow, Jacob Lopez
