Chapter 31: A Sword is Like a Bird

Castle in the Matra Mountains north of Budapest.

Klaus mounted the oak staircase to his brother's quarters on the third floor of the castle. Anya had given him the second-best suite in the building with magnificent views of the surrounding forest and mountains.

The castle had been built in the nineteenth century by a prince who admired King Ludwig's castles in Bavaria. Rolf's study was typical—a pastiche of Gothic and contemporary. The oak paneling, oriental rugs, and Tudor-style furniture shared the space with an array of computers worthy of a university think tank.

Jacek Kolar often worked with Rolf in his office rather than the computer lab on the fourth floor, but Jacek had been absent for three weeks. After his recent plastic surgery, Anya had granted him permission to recover in Italy. It was for the best. Marta was staying in Rolf's bedroom, enjoying her return to freedom. Although she and Jacek were married in name only, there could be lingering resentment on Jacek's part. His focus needed to remain on the upcoming assignment in New York.

Klaus found Rolf sitting at his desk. Vermeer's painting of The Astronomer hung on the wall to his right. Displayed underneath it was Rolf's collection of Renaissance astronomical devices. Klaus thought of it as a shrine to Azathoth.

Rolf waved him to the side chair beside his desk. "You saw the news, I assume?"

Klaus nodded. The reports of the spectacular art discovery in France had been carried on both the internet and the dark web. "Our agents have been unable to learn how they discovered the location of the cave. The authorities have only released a few details. They described the site as a previously unreported cave near Osselle."

"The list of recovered paintings is intriguing, is it not?"

Klaus smiled. "The Braque? Did the lion cub sneak it in?"

"My bet is that Peter did. It was well played. The painting Adler bought must have been a forgery Neal had painted to trap him. Nowhere in any of the reports are fractals mentioned. Was Huber's sheet of equations meaningless?"

Klaus shrugged. "I suppose a homing beacon could have been in the cave. Perhaps there was a hidden message in the painting. When Neal and I stole it, we didn't test it for invisible inks. Once the cub is working for us, we'll be able to find out how they managed it."

Rolf nodded absently and swiveled to study the Vermeer painting. "Did Peter pull the same stunt with The Astronomer?"

"What do you mean?"

Rolf turned to face him. "Was the painting you stole in Paris the original or a forgery?"

Klaus stared at the painting with fresh eyes. He'd never considered the possibility.

"Peter's known about my interest in Renaissance astronomy for almost a year," Rolf continued. "The armillary sphere in the Arkham Files stories is a reference to the spheres I'd used in that house in New Jersey. They were the key to unlock a trap I'd set for him and Neal. What if Peter decided to challenge me with my own methods? I'd had a Galileo manuscript forged."

"So his answer was to have Neal make a forgery of The Astronomer?"

"Exactly. You'd hired Neal to forge Vermeer's The Woman in Blue. This painting would make an ideal counterattack."

Could Rolf be right? The Louvre had placed The Astronomer off-exhibit in May. Was that because the museum had agreed to have the original replaced by a forgery? Klaus stood up to examine the painting. Was this Neal's handiwork?

"You told me that Neal's forgery of The Woman in Blue was so masterful, it would have been nearly impossible to distinguish the original from the forgery," Rolf said. "Neal would have had the original of The Astronomer to consult. This one would have been even better."

"So all our work to make the painting a trigger is for naught?"

"Of course not. The trigger will still work. If anything, Neal's paranoia will increase if he is blamed for the theft of what he knows to be a forgery. And don't forget, we have the second trigger in reserve. Peter can only guess at our strategy, and my bet is he hasn't figured it out."

"Why would they want the original?"

Rolf resumed his seat. "That's a puzzle I've yet to solve." He tapped with his forefinger on the sheet of paper in front of him. "This list of recovered paintings may hold the solution. Two of the paintings documented on Huber's shipping manifest are not mentioned."

"Which ones?"

"A Renoir—Madame Chocquet Reading—and Portrait of a Young Man by Raphael."

"We have no way of knowing how accurate the manifest was. The Resistance fighters may not have made off with all the paintings."

"That's possible," Rolf conceded, "but there could be something else at play."

"What do you suspect?"

Rolf's eyes darted back to The Astronomer. "A gauntlet? I may be reading too much into it." He fell silent for a moment before turning back to Klaus. "Anya wants us to strike and I agree. What's the latest on Bianka?"

"She's recovered from the mugging. She told Anya that Neal's taking her out this Saturday."

Rolf nodded, looking satisfied. "Tell her to move to Phase Three. There's no reason to delay any further."

#

Neal picked up his coffee mug for a refill. On a Friday afternoon, no one was attempting to get much work done. It was the first day back for Peter, Diana, Jones, and Travis. Processing their emails and catching up on Bureau bulletins were enough of a challenge. Neal, always the overachiever, had gone the extra mile. He'd made a couple of cartoons of the team as pirates for the bulletin board in his art niche. The Jolly Roger would need to be stowed away till another adventure beckoned.

Diana was in the breakroom, pouring a generous amount of the Bureau's select swill du jour into the octopus mug Christie had given her. That could mean only one thing.

"Heading for your writer's cave?" he asked.

"Life's returning to normal," she said with a nod. "You realize Jones may need a new hobby now that his work no longer revolves around U-boats."

"I suspect his girlfriend Helen will supply him with ideas."

"How about you? You had a full round of classes on Wednesday. Was it difficult to get back into grad student mode?"

"Not so much. The con served as my homework. I gave my first master class on artist techniques and picked Degas's expertise with pastels as my topic."

Diana stepped back to eye him warily. "You didn't show them Harlequin and Columbine, I hope?"

He grinned. "I resisted the temptation." He moved closer to murmur, "Did the Arkham Round Table go along with my suggestion?"

She rolled her eyes. "Surely you're not asking me to divulge spoilers."

"Just a couple," he wheedled.

"It'll cost you," she warned.

"What's life without an element of danger? I agree."

Her smile had a touch of devilry. "Even without asking what I have in mind?"

"I trust you." He already had a good idea what she'd ask for.

"Okay, Caffrey, just remember our bargain. The title of the next story is Lion's Lair."

"Referring to the nickname Klaus gave me?"

"It has many possible significances and that's one of them. The cub's grown up, and ready to do some damage of his own."

"I like the sound of that."

"It may also refer to one of the constellations on that celestial globe in Vermeer's painting of The Astronomer."

"Peter will approve. Did you include the serpent as well?"

"Um-hum, but you're not getting anything more out of me."

"You can't stop now," he objected. "Did the Round Table agree to my idea?"

"Yeah, yeah. You get to sweep Sara off her feet in Lyon, but the result may not be what you expect. Now it's time to pay up."

Diana seemed to take particular delight in mocking his concepts. Would this be another idea that came back to bite him? It would be enlightening to know if Henry felt the same way.

Diana was tapping her foot. "I'm waiting."

"What would you like? Another origami?"

"Nope, but you should make one for your collection."

"Got it already figured out. When will I have another chance to make a U-boat?"

"Very appropriate. Better make two, so Jones can also have one."

"If you don't want an origami, what do you want?"

"How about a Cosmic Glide?"

Neal laughed. "The dance Mozzie and Neal performed in the previous story?"

She nodded emphatically. "That's right, and with the original music."

"Now?"

She crossed her arms. "Now."

He made a slight bow and set down his mug. Launching into a soulful rendition of "Purple People Eater," he started snapping his fingers and swaying his hips. It was a matter of seconds to coax Diana into dancing, and by the next refrain they were both singing it. Someone must have contacted the lab because Travis raced in and Jones was only a few steps behind. The breakroom wasn't large enough to hold all their gyrations so they moved into the bullpen. Soon everyone was leaving their desks to participate. Peter stuck his head out of Hughes's office door where he'd been in a meeting and grinned at the racket. A minute later, Peter and Hughes both sashayed down the stairs as they belted out the lyrics.

The flash mob ended as quickly as it began. Diana sneaked off to write and Neal returned to the breakroom for the swill he'd never collected. Peter followed him in.

"That was a good idea," Peter said. "The full-blown celebration will have to wait till the Mansfelds are history, but it made a fitting dress rehearsal." His expression turned serious. "You got a moment? There's something we need to discuss."

Peter waited till they were inside his office and the door was closed before giving any further explanation. "Marcel alerted me to a remarkable coincidence. This morning another missing masterpiece was discovered. He wondered if I knew anything about it. It's a Matisse. Woman with a Violin."

"The painting we expected to find in the chalet? What did you tell him?"

"That I would check with you." Peter arched his eyebrows. "Do you know anything about it?"

"Only what I told you. Since Isabelle mentioned Bergmann's interest in the painting, I'd hoped to find the original in the chalet. I was disappointed it wasn't there."

"Let me rephrase the question. Assume the painting was there. What might have happened to it?"

Peter didn't ask for all his theories, so Neal picked the least damaging one. "It crossed my mind that Klaus revisited the chalet after hearing about how much Adler was offering for the Braque. I'm glad I was wrong. Do you know who found the painting?"

Peter nodded. "Camille Souchon."

Neal stared at him. "That's the woman who was Paul Lévy's former secretary—"

"—who now lives in an assisted living facility in Bergerac. She told Mozzie about Lévy's fractal code, and he was effusive in his praise of her, as I recall."

"He was indeed. Good for Camille! She should receive quite a finder's fee. Do you know how she discovered the painting?"

"She'd asked a niece to bring her some of her possessions from the family attic. One was a painting. The frame was loose. When she attempted to repair the frame, she discovered the Matisse hiding underneath it."

Mozzie had gone to see Camille after dropping Neal off at the airport in Paris. He must have engineered the "discovery."

"Camille was active with the Resistance," Peter added. "She believes a fighter hid it at her home and was killed before he could tell her about it. Camille intends to share the proceeds of the finder's fee with surviving Resistance fighters."

"A happy ending! Thank you for letting me know."

A small smile crossed Peter's face. That told Neal Peter also suspected Mozzie's involvement, and he was giving him a pass. "Any word back about the blood work?"

"Not yet, but I haven't had any more incidents and feel fine, so I'm chalking the dreams up to the drug they gave me on the truck. Christie also views it as the most likely scenario."

"That's probably it," Peter agreed, "but there's no harm in taking it easy next week. You have comp time coming from your work last weekend. We'll need a forgery of the Renoir painting that Marcel's holding back. Next week will be a good opportunity to prepare it."

Neal nodded. "With the art discovery made public, Rolf has no reason to delay pulling the trigger on The Astronomer."

"Does that concern you?"

"No. Frankly I wish he'd go ahead. That's been one of the unexpected blessings of having a curse hang over me. I'm no longer concerned about any of Rolf's mind games." Neal rose to leave, then paused. "You remember those dragons I painted for the restaurant in Morningside Heights?"

"Yeah, the blue one had a pearl and the red one was chasing it."

"You have a good memory."

"Those dragons were frustrating. I was convinced you pictured me as the red dragon chasing you, but for whatever reason you refused to acknowledge it."

"I wasn't lying, but you were partially right. I identified with the blue dragon. The pearl was my future. The red dragon was the embodiment of all the demons—inner and external—trying to wrestle it away. Klaus, Keller, my fears and doubts."

Peter sat back in his chair, eyeing him with what Neal hoped was understanding. "I wish I'd known. It would have helped."

"I'm sorry I didn't tell you," Neal admitted.

"Care to explain why you're bringing this up now?"

"Last night I was thinking about the day you came to see me when I was painting the mural. You told me to focus on the big picture—not let the little stuff get in the way of a chance to do something worthwhile with my life. I never thanked you properly." Neal hesitated, passing a hand through his hair. This was heavier than he intended but he wanted to get it off his chest. "Playing a part in recovering those masterpieces is something I'll never forget."

"Me neither," Peter agreed quietly. "I've been reflecting on the twists and turns of fate as well. Adler, Kate, Fowler—they all had a role to play. If you hadn't been swindled by Adler's Ponzi scheme, we might not have discovered the key to the mystery. Even Klaus was instrumental to the outcome by ordering you to steal the Braque."

"You told me I could accomplish something meaningful here at the Bureau, and thanks to you, I have."

"I appreciate that, but you put skin in the game too." Peter eyed him thoughtfully. "We were on shaky ground when I visited you in the restaurant."

No point in denying it. "You went the extra mile to demonstrate I'd made the right decision."

"I wish I'd already met André. He gave me some good advice in Paris."

"What was that?"

"About a sword being like a bird."

"Ah yes, his favorite saying. He lectured me about that too. We've both learned to relax our grip. For instance, now if you forget lunch, I don't even mention it."

Peter snorted. "Or if you forget to return my t-shirt, I don't slap handcuffs on you."

Neal broke into a laugh. Peter still remembered the shirt Neal had borrowed in St. Louis. "I was sure I gave that back," he teased.

"Nope, but you keep it. In Paris, you called me your good luck charm. Maybe it's that shirt that's supplying the magic for both of us. Whatever it is, it's working. Let's not mess it up."

"Steady as she goes?" Neither one of them mentioned the Mansfelds. They'd need all the luck they could get for the next act.

Notes: The Mansfelds aren't the only ones Neal and Peter should worry about. Astrena's a frustrated goddess and an increasingly demanding one. In my next Crossed Lines story, Night Howls on the Hudson, she'll take center stage. Henry is heading off for a business trip to Asia. He wonders how much trouble Neal can get into while he's gone. He's about to find out. Once Henry returns, the operation against the Mansfelds will begin in earnest. The next Caffrey Conversation story is called The Musicians.

A few notes about references in this chapter:
Peter's birthday is described in two of Penna's Caffrey Vignettes: Treasure Hunt and Wish on a Star.
Rolf's booby-trapped house and the forged Galileo manuscript are in The Woman in Blue.
Neal borrowed Peter's t-shirt in Caffrey Conversation, and the Cosmic Glide was first performed in Cinereous Skies.