When the table was cleared and the dishes done, Charlie said, "I'm going to get back to work. I want to be able to give Don the results when he gets here."

"What results are those, Charlie?" Alan asked as he picked up the phone.

"I should have a list of the connections between my disgruntled students and the art thefts. And, if all goes well, I may be able to fine-tune the possible targets in the Los Angeles area.

"Don will appreciate that." As Charlie and Amita returned to the garage, Alan called Don.

"Eppes."

"Don, I just wanted to invite you and Liz to dinner before we go to the Hammer."

"Thanks, Dad. That would be great. I'm getting my windshield replaced as we speak, so I can drive the whole gang over."

"Wonderful! We were wondering how we were going to manage the logistics." Alan glanced at the closed garage door and lowered his voice. "Have you talked to Charlie about his algorithms?"

"Not this morning. Why?"

"I hope he's not setting himself up to crash and burn like he did a couple of years ago. He sounds awfully sure that he's got what you need to solve this art theft case."

"Dad, Charlie has grown up a lot in the last couple of years. I'm sure everything will be okay. But I'll talk to him. Remember, he's been right more than he's been wrong."

"I know. He just seems so... so smug right now. I've just got a bad feeling about this. Probably just an overactive imagination."

"Listen, Dad, I trust your instincts as much as I trust Charlie's math. I'll keep an eye on him."

--

It had been a quiet afternoon. Except for a quick lunch break, Charlie and Amita were working in the garage. Alan finished the paper, took some time to put together a report for a client, and watched the Dodgers lose. He was just getting up the energy to start the preparations for supper when the front door opened. "Hello?" Don called.

"Donnie, Liz, welcome!"

Liz handed Alan a bottle of wine and gave him a quick hug. "Thanks for inviting us, Alan."

Alan glanced at the bottle approvingly. "Very nice. I thought I'd make a lasagne for dinner. This will go very nicely."

"Where's Chuck?" Don asked, glancing around the room. "Let me guess. In the garage with Amita?"

Alan chuckled. "At least he's not in the conservatory with Colonel Mustard."

Liz hesitated as Don headed toward the garage. "Is there anything I can do to help, Alan?"

"Everything's under control, Liz. Since my son is such a poor host, may I offer you something to drink?"

Liz laughed. "No, thanks. But thank you for being a wonderful host."

"Go, join the kids in the garage. Charlie was hoping to have the solution to your case by the time you two arrived."

"Oh, man, I hope he does. It'll save us a whole heck of a lot of work."

Charlie was at the blackboard, reading numbers to Amita, who sat, crosslegged with a laptop balanced on her knees. Don was standing beside Charlie, trying to make sense of something, anything, on the blackboard. He looked up and smiled at Liz when she entered.

"What?" Liz said with a grin, "The case isn't solved yet?"

Charlie gave her a withering look, then went back to passing data on to Amita.

Liz stood next to Don, and put her arm around his waist. "Do you understand any of this?"

"Nope," Don admitted. "But they do, and that's all that matters at this point. Let's have a seat," he indicated the lumpy couch. Liz raised her eyebrows, but sat, carefully adjusting her little black dress.

Amita glanced up and smiled. "Hi, Liz. Wow! I love that dress on you."

"Thanks. I wasn't sure what to wear, but basic black seemed safe enough."

Don said, "I get the hint. Next time we get invited to one of these fancy-schmantzy events, I'll ask what we should wear."

Liz gave him a peck on the cheek. "See, you are educable."

Charlie finished rattling off numbers, and came to look over Amita's shoulder. He glanced at his brother. "Amita found a partial listing of the items that are going to be at the show. Going with the assumption that they'd advertise the most valuable pieces, she found everything she could on each piece. We'll have Ben help us with relative prices, assuming that the thieves have a knowledge of art similar to Ben's."

Amita added, "And when we go tonight, we can get an idea of the layout of the exhibition. I'll print out a rough floor plan and we can mark locations of the most likely targets."

Liz said, "Won't that look a little suspicious?"

"We'll try to make it seem innocuous," Amita said. "I'm printing the plan on letter size pages. A lot of art students carry notebooks in museums and make notes about what they see. I thought I'd dress like a student, bring a backpack, which they'll make me leave outside the gallery, and carry a notebook full of scribbles and sketches."

Don chuckled, "All right, Amita, going undercover!"

She shrugged. "It seemed like the best way to collect the information we need without being accused of being an accessory before the fact. That is the correct term, isn't it? I watched a lot of cop shows growing up."

The garage door opened, and Alan ushered Ben and Maggie into the garage. "Apparently," he said, "this is where all the action is. I'll get supper started. Lasagne okay with everyone?" Accepting the murmur of approval, Alan left them to their work.

Don and Liz made room on the couch, and Charlie pulled over a papasan chair. "I should invest in some more seating for the garage if we're going to continue to meet out here."

"This is fine," Ben said, settling into the papasan chair and picking a piece of lint from the pantleg of his navy pinstripe suit. "Though I may need help getting out of this thing when we're finished."

Maggie sat next to Liz. "How've you been, Liz?"

"Great, thanks. How about you?"

Charlie and Amita had continued to study the screen of the laptop, pressing a few keys occasionally. He suddenly straightened and said, "There! That's it. Amita's got the program up and running. Now all we need is Ben's input."

"Input?" Ben asked. "About what?"

Charlie explained Amita's program to Ben, and he awkwardly got out of the papasan chair to join Charlie behind Amita. He pulled a folded paper out of the inside pocket of his suit coat. "I have a list of the items in the exhibit as well. It's probably the same as your list. I've looked it over, and I think I can give you what you need. You'll have to realize that it's an educated guess, since you'll never see prices listed for the most valuable items unless they've just been sold."

Charlie walked to the table and picked up a folder. "Don, you might find this interesting. I've put together some connections between my students and your art thieves. You can look it over while I get Ben started, and then we can discuss the implications of my results."

Don opened the folder. After a moment, he looked up at Charlie. "This is interesting. It looks like the students' complaints are strongly tied in with the thefts."

Charlie grinned. "Yeah. It's a relief to find out I'm not such a bad professor after all."

"Was there really any doubt?" Amita asked. "I've always enjoyed our study sessions."

Don laughed. "So that's what they're calling it these days."

While the program was running, Charlie sat beside Don and went through the connections between the students and the thieves. Besides the connection between Ellen Davis and Greg Spencer, Charlie had also discovered that Daniel Weimar had been a student of one Francis Agincourt.

"Why does that name sound familiar?" Don said, his brow furrowed.

Liz said, "Didn't Ed Davis say that Ellen worked with a Fred Agincourt?"

"That's it," Don said. "That's where I heard it before. Is Fred related to Francis?"

Charlie nodded. "Fred and Francis are twin brothers. Francis teaches high school, and Fred teaches elementary school."

"Right," Don said, "Fred ran some kind of after school group for kids and Ellen Davis helped with it. Did you find out anything more about the brothers? Like, was Francis involved in this after-school group?"

"No. I just remembered seeing the name in your notes. The same last name showed up in Dan's high school records. I just made a quick call to the school district to ask if the two Agincourts. Were related."

"Good work," Don said, nodding his approval. "So now we have two of your dissatisfied students connected with my art thieves. And if your program is right..." he paused, waiting for Charlie's reaction. He was rewarded with a scowl from his brother. "Okay, I'm sure your program will be right. Anyway, if all goes well, we'll catch them in the act on Tuesday and solve this thing."

"Charlie," Amita said, looking up from the laptop. "We've got results."

Charlie walked around behind Amita and gently massaged her shoulders as he studied the screen. "All right. Ben, it looks like our top three targets are a DaVinci drawing, a Durer print and a Michelangelo drawing."

"That makes sense. After tonight, Maggie should be able to give us an assessment of the layout of the gallery. Then we can give Don our best guess at which piece is most likely to be stolen."

"Guess?" Charlie scoffed. "I don't make guesses."

Alan stood in the doorway. "Of course you make guesses, Charlie. You've just given them a different name." Before Charlie could object, he added, "Ladies and gentlemen, dinner is served."

As they adjourned to the dining room, Don put his arm around Charlie's shoulders. "Good job, Buddy. I'm going to have to check up on the Agincourt brothers. And I want you to be careful. Whoever we're dealing with, they're very dangerous." He ran his thumb along the bruise on Charlie's cheek.

"By Tuesday, this could all be over."

"You've still got to make it through Monday."

"I'll be careful. Hey, why don't you sit and I'll grab you a beer."

"I can get it myself."

"I know, but Dad's always after me about being a good host. Now sit your butt down and let me be the host."

Amita shook her head and turned to Liz. "Do they ever grow up?"

Liz grinned. "I don't think so."

"What would be the fun in that?" Charlie asked. "Now, Ben, ladies, what would you like to drink? We have a lovely red wine, a very nice white, water, coffee, tea, and, of course, beer."

Ben and Liz opted for red wine, while Amita and Maggie chose white wine. Charlie returned a few moments later with Don's beer and two bottles of wine. He handed Don the beer and opened the wine, pouring it for his guests.

"Thanks, Charlie," Maggie said. Turning to Alan, she smiled. "Alan, Charlie is a wonderful host. You've done a good job raising these two."

Charlie grinned at Maggie. "Thank you, Maggie. It's nice to see someone appreciates me around here."

"Poor baby," Don raised his beer in a toast. "Nobody ever appreciates you."

Charlie ruffled Don's hair and headed back into the kitchen with Alan. They returned, bearing lasagna, salad and garlic bread. "Ooh," Amita said, "that smells heavenly."

There were a few moments of silent eating, punctuated by murmurs of appreciation for Alan's cooking. Finally, Alan said, "So, Charlie tells me we're casing the joint tonight."

Don narrowed his eyes at his father. "Leave the casing to the professionals, Dad. You just enjoy the artwork, okay?"

"Oh, I fully intend to enjoy the artwork, Son. And I want to thank Ben and Maggie for treating us to the reception."

"You're more than welcome, Alan," Ben said. "You and your family have made us feel so welcome during our stay in Pasadena. We wanted to do something to return the favor."

"Maggie," Liz said, "I understand you're an expert in museum security?"

"Well, I wouldn't put it that way. I teach museum science, and part of museum science is museum security. I just hope I can give your team some helpful input."

"Well, either way," Liz said, "we're lucky to have you and Ben involved in this case." She noticed as Charlie raised his eyebrows at her. "Of course, it goes without saying that Charlie and Amita are always extremely valuable members of our team."

"Of course," Maggie said, raising her glass in Charlie's direction.

After the table was cleared and the dishes washed, Alan and Charlie went upstairs to change. Taking their cue from Ben's attire, they returned wearing black suits and white shirts. Charlie wore a purple silk tie, and Alan wore a paisley tie.

Liz whistled. "Whoa, you guys clean up nice."

Alan sketched a bow and took Liz's hand. "You're not so bad yourself."

Don playfully shouldered Alan out of the way. "Hey, find your own date."

"It's not my fault all the ladies here are spoken for."

Maggie looked Alan up and down, grinning. "Looking like that, Alan, you shouldn't have any trouble picking up a hot date at the museum tonight."

Alan wiggled his eyebrows at her. "I'll bet you say that to all the boys."

"No. Just the hot ones."

Amita bit her lip and she looked at Charlie. "I'm seriously rethinking my plan to dress as a student tonight."

Charlie touched her cheek. "No offense to the other ladies here, but you could dress in a burlap sack and you'd still be the most beautiful woman there tonight."

"All right. I'll stick with my original plan. Besides, we don't have time for me to run home and change."

Maggie reassured Amita, "This is an art event, and it's California, not back east. There will be plenty of people dressed much worse than you are. Nobody will even bat an eye when they see your clothes."

Ben added, "Maggie's right. She and I went to a 1000 a couple opening a month ago, and I was the only one wearing a suit."

"All right, ladies and gentlemen," Alan said, checking his watch. "We'd better get this show on the road."

The traffic was actually bearable on a Sunday evening. They pulled up to the gray and white striped marble building a few minutes before the reception was scheduled to begin. "Valet parking," Don said. "They're going whole hog tonight."

"It's a big event," Ben said. "They've brought together an amazing collection."

"And," Alan added, "when you pay this much for a ticket, you don't want the inconvenience of parking your own car."

After Don pocketed the claim ticket and turned his SUV over to the earnest young valet, they walked toward the museum.

A young couple in torn jeans and grubby tee shirts walked past them, hurrying toward the entrance. Amita, snuggled against Charlie, nodded toward them and whispered, "I don't feel so under dressed now."

"Good." Charlie gave her a squeeze. "You'll do just fine." He nuzzled her hair. "Have I told you lately you're hot?"

Amita laughed. "Not in the past five minutes."