Wolf and Cub
By DJ Clawson
Chapter 6 – Monsieur LupinWhen he called the hospital from his office, Lupin was still sleeping, and would probably just sleep through the night. Goemon was staying up as a guard, so he was probably safe, or so Zenigata assured himself.
He knocked on the commissioner's door. Fortunately, the guy was also working late. "Come in, Inspector."
The office was a mess, unlike his commissioner in Osaka, which had a floor you could eat off of. "I have some questions."
"Of course."
Zenigata seated himself. "Where is the Lupin Estate?"
"The Lupin Estate? It's about an hour south of Paris, depending on the traffic. You know that it's a national museum, don't you?" He looked at the Japanese inspector's expression. "I suppose you don't. You see, Arséne Lupin was a bit of a national hero, even if he was a felon. When he moved his family to Japan to retire, he donated his ancestral mansion to the government. The items that were identifiable as stolen were given back to their owners, and the rest were left as a museum. Now it's a tourist attraction."
"So I take it no one's lived there since?"
"Not since he left in the 50's, no. I'm not sure what you would find there, but I can arrange for a ticket."
"All right. I'll go in the morning." He added, "And I'd like to see the files on Arséne Lupin."
"I'll have someone dig them out, but a lot of that information has been lost over the years. It was over half a century ago, you realize."
It didn't phase him for a second. "I'll take whatever you've got."
There was no real news from the hospital in the morning, so Zenigata got in his rental car and got on the road as fast as he could. He had no particular appreciation for the French countryside this morning, his mind wandering and going over the facts and clues again and again. Still, he was just trying to find a Lupin, and he was exceedingly skilled at that if nothing else, so it really couldn't be much longer.
The Lupin Estate was a massive mansion, flanked on all sides by beautiful gardens and winding paths that lead into the wilderness. Why Arséne Lupin had ever given it up for anything in Japan, he had no idea.
"You must be Inspector Zenigata," the woman at reception, which had once been a parlor of some kind, said to him. Did he really look that much like a cop? He wasn't even wearing his trench coat today. He took of his hat when he entered, because that was what they did here, wasn't it. "There's a tour that just started if you'd like to get on it."
"Thanks," he said, and rushed off in the direction she pointed. A small crowd of tourists were facing a wall in the massive hallway, where the guide was gesturing towards a small flower painting. Zenigata squeezed in next to a blond woman.
"There's an interesting history behind this piece," said the guide. "Because of Arséne Lupin's reputation, it was assumed that most of the treasures in his collection were at one time stolen. However, since the estate already belonged to the government, it laid claim to most of them. Only people who could describe the items in great detail and provide some proof of ownership were able to recover their 'stolen' items. It is estimated that over 20,000 claims were submitted to the manager of the estate for the 4800 items of value. Only about half of those made it to court and were returned to their owners, leaving us with an amazing collection of 2462 antiques and pieces of art. This particular painting was the subject of a dispute between the French and English governments. In 1951, King George VI submitted a claim that it had been stolen from the House of Windsor, but since he was unable to describe it in specific detail or identify the artist's signature on the back, it was kept by the estate. This dispute alone makes the painting, which is dated to the 18th century, priceless."
"It's beautiful," said the blond quietly.
"Don't even think about it, Fujiko," Zenigata said coldly.
"Hey! I wasn't even thinking about it! And how did you know it was me?"
"Sure you weren't," he said. "And I know the smell of a thief."
The guide led them down the grand hallway, passing by all kinds of artwork beneath stunning crystal chandeliers. At the end the hall was a T-junction, and facing them on the wall was a giant portrait of Lupin the First himself. He was minus his trademark cape, but he still had on a monocle and top hat. He was standing very regally, one hand tucked into his suit and the other resting on a black cane. Like his grandson, he had long sideburns, but unlike his grandson, he had a stylishly thin moustache that stretched out like cat whispers on this face. The resemblance was uncanny to Zenigata, minus the lack of Japanese features apparent in Lupin the Third.
"Now this picture may mislead you," said the guide, "but Lupin was not actually French nobility. Though he did masquerade for a time as a duke to explain his great fortune, Arséne Lupin was actually the son of a working class Parisenne family. His father and mother's identities have been lost to history. It is believed that he began his life of crime when he was still a boy, and that by the time he was fifteen, he had considerable wealth. He would spend the next two decades building social stature and land, all to create the image that he was from a great noble house. Contemporaries of Monsieur Lupin have written that he was quite a showman in his day. Even after the purchase of this mansion, which once belonged to the house of LeBlanc, he continued to pursue a secret life of crime, some say largely for amusement. Now if you'll follow me to the left - "
Fujiko, apparently, was transfixed by the image of Lupin the First. Zenigata also had problems taking his eyes off him, but probably for different reasons. Here was a man who was a thief all his life but had died in bed, of old age. It defied all logic and reason.
The guide led them into Lupin's study, or one of them at least. On the massive oak desk was a katana, sitting on a lacquered sword stand. The black sheath was simple and unadorned.
"This sword – which is called a katana – was used by samurai warriors in Japan. It is said that Monsieur Lupin acquired it during a fair in London. He would go on to make several trips to Japan in the thirties and forties, and many of the items he returned with our still in our collection today. This item, however, is the first and his purchase of it represents the beginning of a cultural interest in the island nation. As was said before, Monsieur Lupin moved his family to Japan in 1950, when the French Parliament passed a law that removed the legal protections he enjoyed while on this property."
Zenigata stepped up to admire the sword. "It's not a real sword."
"What?" The guide was a little taken back.
"It's not a real katana. It's too long," he said. "Katanas were cut down to the length of individual orders. This is a reproduction." He noticed the stares he was getting. "Sorry – continue."
She gave him a look. "We'll move on to the second floor, where – "
The tour continued for a while, passing through lavish bedrooms and studies. It was really an astounding place, and must have been incredible to live in, but Zenigata was getting impatient. He and Fujiko cut out of the tour when it went out into the maze gardens.
"It doesn't make sense," Zenigata said. "If I know a Lupin, he would have multiple places to shack up."
"I asked at the desk when I came in," Fujiko said. "They said there are no other known places."
"Maybe he left a clue or something. Come on," he said, leading her back in. "And don't steal anything while we're here!"
"I'd ask you what you take me for, but I already know the answer."
When the guards tried to stop them from wandering around, he waved his badge and they let them pass. They arrived at the giant portrait of Lupin the First, who was smiling back at them.
"It's like he's watching us," Fujiko mused. "You know, Lupin only talks about this guy in the fondest terms."
"He raised him, didn't he?"
"I don't remember all the details, but I think when his mom died and has dad went to prison, Lupin wound up in a Catholic orphanage. Then his grandfather came out of the woodwork and got custody. He died when Lupin was fourteen. There's some story about the inheritance being a mansion and a book, but I don't know it. Lupin only talks about me when we're together."
"Somehow I don't doubt it," he said. He looked at Lupin the First again, as if waiting for an answer to his questions. "Let's see if there are papers in the desk."
"You missed the exhibition room. They have all of his papers under glass," she said, taking him to the right. One of the old game rooms – possibly once a pool room – had been converted into a room for showing important documents, which were in glass cases. "There's some more in the archives downstairs but we'll have to talk our way in."
The first case was what looked like a very old arrest warrant, with an etched picture of Lupin the First. It was for a 500 francs. "Probably a lot of money at the time. He had a copy?"
"Sure. Lupin has one. It's framed in his mansion in Japan. It even has your signature on it."
"Hey! That's a department copy!"
She smiled slyly at him.
There were other letters written in different languages, most of them calling for Lupin's arrest. Behind one pane was what looked like a wedding invitation for Arséne and Bianca, dated to 1930. "The location," he said, pointing. "He was married in a cathedral, but the party's at a club. The Admiral's Arms. It's probably nothing." He turned away, but his sixth sense was going off.
They went back to the study. The draws of the desk were empty, except for some recent informational pamphlets about the estate that someone had stuffed in there. There was a pen on the desk, one of those old feather things, as if Lupin had been there writing something just a moment ago. It was probably for appearance's sake.
"You really think this is fake?" Fujiko said, gesturing to the sword.
"It's not fake – just, not a feudal sword." He picked it off its case and unsheathed it. He had never been particularly good with swords – he was better at defending against them. The sword hadn't been sharpened or polished at all. "My jutte is more dangerous than this thing."
"Well, he got it at a some cultural event in England – what do you expect?" Fujiko said, running her forefinger along the side of the blade. "There's something inscribed here."
"In Japanese?" He squinted – the letters were small, and difficult to make out. "No, it's French. Suivez-moi à Arms de l'amiral..."
"Follow me to the Admiral's Arms," Fujiko translated into Japanese, the language they used to talk to each other.
He flipped the sword over and found another word. "D'abord."
"First. Lupin the First."
"I don't think so. Lupin didn't go by Lupin the First. He went by his full name. Unless it was a gift to his son."
"Are you sure?"
"No. But I think I know where we'll find our answer."