Christine walked into the office the next morning with a coffee and a mission. Get those paintings back and get information.
She walked over to the mirror windows and looked inside at the man who was sitting handcuffed on the chair. The file she had in her hand suggested that she try and get information out of them.
She needed to find out why they let themselves get caught while another man took their glory and their freedom.
The man in the chair was of Spanish decent. He looked like a tough bodyguard who didn't want to be here anymore. He also looked like he didn't want to talk.
"Hola," Christine spoke. There's only so much you can do with highschool Spanish.
The man just looked at her. Oh he'll be talking soon.
"Tu Y sus amigos esta en mierde."
He just smirked and looked at her.
"Tu hablas Ingles?"
"Oh I think you do. You see I'm tying to figure out how this works. Obviously there's a middle man who you don't meet or ever see, so he doesn't get caught up in it. Maybe he gives you the money first?"
The man just kept looking at her, not budging an inch.
Christine slowly walked over to his side of the table, leaned against his ear and whispered, "I know that you probably don't know anymore than the other two guys, but I want you to know that if you tell me more information as to who paid you to do this, or you know where the painting is...we can work out a little something for you."
The man spilled, he said there was a wealthy man who paid $20,000 for them to get in the Art Museum. He never said that they would get out.
A little bit later there was a lineup of about 7 men from the city and the NYPD put one of them men from the attempted robbery in it. One of the eye witnesses was a devilishly attractive man, late 40's wealthy looking. Christine stood in to see if he matched with the guy they just interrogated.
"That man," he said.
He pointed directly at our boy.
"Are you sure," detective Garcia asked him.
"I am most positive," the man stated.
This interested Christine because this man didn't look like the type to go to the Art Museum for fun. She watched as the man confirmed his identification.
His name was Erik.
"Would you like police protection sir? Sometimes these guys get it in their heads to get revenge," Garcia asked.
"Oh I'm sure there's no need," he smoothly answered.
At that moment Christine stopped getting her coffee and stood still. The way he said that. A if he's sure no one would come get him.
She watched him leave. He jogged gracefully to his new Bentley town car where his chauffeur was waiting with his door open.
There was something suspicious about him.
Now she had to think about the gala tonight at the Art Museum. There was a wealthy man donating a Monet to the exhibit. One of his own collection.
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