Chapter 39
The wine had long worn off and I was watching the news as Monroe was busy in the kitchen. Coverage of the art theft was the top story tonight. Captain Debonair was on the screen during a press conference. He made another statement that justice would be served.
"Every effort is being made to find and apprehend those responsible for these series of crimes," he said adamantly. "Anyone with information is asked to call the Portland Police Bureau immediately."
The newscaster reappeared. "The Portland Museum is offering a reward for information leading to the arrest and prosecution of the individual or individuals involved in today's robbery." He went on to mention that La Bella was on loan from a gallery in Florence, Italy and the Portland Museum's main priority was for its safe return.
A clip of the surveillance camera footage from today was played again. I groaned loudly. It was the Ninja pointing her crossbow at me. Fortunately I was blurred out. The video didn't show much detail at all. No wonder they hadn't known she was female. The image was so dark no one would be able to tell had they not been there to witness it.
Monroe poked his head into the living room.
"What's going on?" he asked. "I heard you groaning."
"Just the news coverage from the robbery today. They showed video of the Waschbar preparing to kill me."
Monroe shook his head slowly. "Oh man. Couldn't they have picked the part where she was stealing the art instead?"
I slumped back into the couch. "You'd think that would be more appropriate."
"If you need me I'll be right in the kitchen, okay?" I nodded and Monroe disappeared back to his pots and pans.
The newscaster finished out the rest of the Portland news. There had been three cars in an accident on the Freemont Bridge causing major delays, an anonymous donation to a local food bank was a 'blessing from God,' and more chances for heavy rain early next week.
I turned the TV off and crossed my arms. There had to be a way to figure out if it was really Natalie or Johnna the Waschbar. I closed my eyes and replayed the event. I recited the quotes from the blue cards in my mind. I replayed the footage from the surveillance from the news report from the captain's condo. The news… Something was similar. I popped my eyes open.
"I need to see Nick!" I told Monroe.
"Huh?" Monroe replied as he poked his head back into the living room again. "Can't it wait until after dinner?"
(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)
"Okay, slow down," Nick said. "What do you mean donations?"
I'd been talking nonstop as my brain hurled out the puzzle pieces I'd been joining together during the drive to the trailer. I'd already explained it to Monroe and even he agreed I was on to something.
I drew in a breath while curling my legs under me on the trailer bed. "The same day of each robbery there was news of a donation somewhere," I explained more slowly. "The first one was a women's shelter that received an anonymous donation. That was the same day the Japanese art was taken. Next was a church donation when your captain was robbed. Today was a food bank donation after the art museum robbery. They were all high sums of money. We're talking over a quarter million combined."
"What does that have to do with stealing art?" Nick asked giving me a puzzled look.
"Don't you see? She's robbing from the rich to give to the poor."
Nick leaned back in his chair. "Look, I really don't think someone is playing Robin Hood."
"Dude, think about it. It's got the whole Robin Hood, hero-complex, epic saga written all over it. So, she's like this socialist Waschbar, taking from the rich and spreading all this ill-gotten wealth amongst the poor."
"And she's quite handy with a bow and arrow," I added.
"Crossbow," Nick corrected me.
"Now as the tale goes," Monroe continued, "ultimately, Robin Hood and his band of merry men, and some women in certain texts, sought justice in their land and triumphed over their enemies, etcetera, etcetera." He put his hand to his chin. "Or was he betrayed by a woman and killed? You know, the end of the story is rather murky. It really depends on which version you read. Now the one that I prefer is…"
Nick scoffed, cutting Monroe off. "Renée, I think you're grasping at straws."
"But those cards she left… Law enforcement being a thief instead of a guard? Wasn't the person guarding the Japanese art the Sheriff of Multnomah County?"
"The Sheriff isn't a thief."
"No, but there was a Sheriff of Nottingham who was," Monroe said with a grin.
"And then heirs and castles…"
"But Captain Renard isn't a King."
"No, but maybe he represents Prince John," I said. "And then the last card talks about tipping the scales. Well, her donations would definitely fit into that balance she's been alluding to."
"While it's a weird way to go about it, you gotta admit it makes sense," Monroe added.
Nick was still giving us a deadpan stare as he crossed his arms.
"Do you have any other leads?" I asked.
Nick shook his head. "Just the two Waschbars."
"Then what would it hurt to see if those three places have some kind of connection?"
Nick was silent. "I could check it out. But if they were anonymous donations…" He put a hand to his mouth like he was mulling over the possibility.
"If this Epicurean Thievius Raccoonus is as clever as most Waschbars are, it won't be easy," said Monroe.
"Thievius Racoonus?" I raised an eyebrow. "That's not Latin."
"No. It's more like the language of Chuck Jones."
"Oh, yeah. One of the forgotten romance languages of our time," I laughed. "Maybe we can call Acme and have an anvil fall on her head."
Nick sat up in his chair. "Okay, if you two Looney Tunes are done with the jokes, then…"
Monroe stood. "Yeah, sorry, man. We'll be on our way." Monroe reached his hand out and I took it as I rose to my feet.
I turned back to Nick. "Let me know if I'm right on this. I've got a gut feeling these are definitely related."
Nick nodded. "I'll take care of it, Renée. I appreciate the insight."
I paused briefly at his reply. Was he just telling me this or was he being genuine? I searched his face. No, he'd look into it, but he wasn't happy about it.
A/N: While Robin Hood isn't exactly a fairy tale, it still holds some storybook value.
I retract my earlier statement of changing eye color for this reason: This story is written in first person POV of Renée, who views Captain Renard's eyes as hazel green. Now, if this story were narrative, or omnipresent, or even third person, I would probably go with green eyes, since Sasha Roiz has retweeted that he "believes" his eyes are green. But for the purposes of this story and my character's perception of the world, it's hazel green. I'm sorry TeamRenard for the offense. lol
Gonna be posting chapters 40-45 throughout the day. (: