He blinked in what seemed like honest surprise. "You would be informed correctly.”
“Might I ask your connection? I thought you were in the hotel business?”
The corner of his lips twitched and distracted me. The way he lazily leaned against his desk, I had full vantage point of his long lean body. He was every bit the rogue billionaire.
“Analisse Du Mont is my mother. She inherited a sizeable art collection upon my great-grandmother’s death. My grandmother had always wanted to display the works the family had, but for several reasons never managed to, so the task eventually fell to my mother and sister. We’ve consigned the entire collection to the Royal Museum in Monaco. My sister is the curator.”
As he spoke, I quickly jotted notes. “Your mother. That certainly makes more sense.”
“Mum finds herself quite busy with charity work, so somehow I have become the London point of contact. A part of me thinks this was her evil scheme all along to bind me to her family’s legacy. It might have broken her heart that I went the route of my father into business.”
“But still, you don’t work for your father.” That had nothing to do with the case. More of a curiosity.
His lips compressed ever so slightly, his tone becoming sharp when he said, “I do not.”
I wanted desperately to poke at the obvious sore spot, not to cause him pain, but because the urge to know more about him was nearly eating at me. But I kept on task. “Three years ago, your collection reported an attempted theft and forgeries of a visiting collection.”
He nodded slowly. “Yes. There was a problem. I believe the thief and forger was caught.”
I nodded as I took more notes. "If you don't mind, I would love to see your collection. I’m particularly interested in the authentication process the museum used. Any security from that time. A first-hand account maybe. If you could walk me through the process and how you were tipped off, that would be ideal. There are similarities between what happened at the Royal Museum and a case I’m working on.”
"Interesting. Do you think it’s the work of copycats? Or perhaps all the thieves weren’t caught?"
"I don’t know. Which is why I’d love your firsthand account. Anything you can think of, no matter how small. I would love the opportunity to examine the collection and authentication procedures."
“I can make that happen. We shared the bulk of the responsibility with the Monaco Art Trust. We were lucky the forgeries were discovered within the day."
“Who was responsible for authentication?”
“Since all of our pieces are on loan with the caveat that my sister be named curator, we are responsible. One of us is in constant oversight of the care of the collection, obviously. The challenge was with the loan of the Tillson collection. They were supposed to be showcasing a set of jewelry they had that was a sister set to something in my grandmother’s collection as well as several paintings."
“Is there any possibility that the procedures were suspect in any way? No disrespect, but if the forgers were indeed caught, it would be unlikely that I’d have another piece with the same signature.”
He crossed his arms then. “No, it's not possible. The Royal Museum of Monaco is one of the most well-guarded and respected institutions. There's no way."
"Is it possible to speak to your sister, just to confirm any staffing changes, background checks, anything like that?"
His brow furrowed. "You think we missed something?”
“I’m just following all avenues right now.”
“Fine. I can give you her number, but it’s probably better to meet her in person."
"So I would have to go to Monaco?"
He grinned. "Well, that's how it works if you want to see the paintings and jewelry up close and personal."
I closed my notebook and plastered on a polite smile. "I'm sure your family has done everything that they can, and I understand that this is an inconvenience for you, but it would be very helpful if I could look at your authentication paperwork."
“I’ll make it happen.”
"It's much appreciated, Mr. Hale."
The smile widened into a grin. "There is something about the way you say that. Anything for my favorite Interpol agent."
"Mr. Hale, flattery will get you nowhere."
Lies. If we play our cards right flattery will get him in our knickers.
"Well, I find flattery is useful to bring women around to the idea of having dinner with me.”
I bit back my chuckle. “Never going to happen.”
“If you say so. I'll be in touch to let you know about the collection."
"Thank you very much. I’ll get in touch with your sister.”
His wolfish grin broke free again. “Oh, perhaps you misunderstood, Agent Kincade. Not only will I arrange for you to see it, but you’ll also have the pleasure of my company."
My eyes flared wide as I nearly choked on my next breath. Speaking rapidly I said, "Well, that's highly unnecessary. I'm sure it'll go faster if I can work on my own."
He shrugged. "My family, my collections. If you want to see it, I come with you."
"Mr. Hale, I'm an Interpol agent. I have a partner. I don't need you."
"Well then, maybe you don't want to see that collection nearly as badly as you say."
I rolled my eyes. "Fantastic. It looks like we're going to be heading to Monaco together."
His grin was broad. "I knew you'd see it my way."
9 Nyla
When I returned to work, I went straight for Amelia's office. She had her own case. A run-of-the-mill murder. Since when had murders become run-of-the-mill? She greeted me with a, "Hey where'd you go this morning?"
I plopped into one of her chairs and then grabbed a handful of Skittles off of her desk. "Are they fresh?"
She squinted her eyes at me. “Yes, they're fresh. I put a new fresh bag in there daily.
