Chapter 5: House Cats

Monday, July 23, 2007.

They flew to Nicosia the next morning. Neal didn't expect to return to Prague afterward. This was to be the swan song for Francesco. He and Mozzie had weighed the odds of Phoenix believing that yet another client had gotten coincidentally entangled with Interpol, and they weren't good.

He was glad Henry and Klaus were along for Francesco's final con. As in Prague, Henry was in charge of Travis's electronics. He'd monitor their conversation with the client from the hotel room.

Cyprus's location made it an ideal site for organized crime. The island was an inviting crossroads for illegal activities such as smuggling and arms trafficking. Interpol maintained a robust presence in Cyprus, and it was reassuring to know that John Hobhouse had already placed agents on alert.

Neal spoke with John before leaving Prague. In Phoenix's instructions, he told Klaus not to mark the forgery with pinpricks. Was that because their client had his own design? All they knew about him was that he lived in a house in old Nicosia.

Before leaving Prague, the pride had gone clothes shopping. Nicosia in July was significantly hotter than New York City. As a tourist destination, most wore casual clothes. Neal was pleased with his linen sportswear. He looked forward to wearing the garments with Sara.

After they checked in at their hotel, Klaus called the number provided by Phoenix. A man's voice answered the phone. He provided an address and requested they be there in an hour.

Would this be a case of dueling mousetraps? Neal was confident of the trap they'd prepared with the Rembrandt as the bait. But what—and who—was waiting for them?

Henry knocked on Neal's door while he was dressing for the meeting. "I'd feel a lot better if I went with you," Henry said as he entered the room. "I could be your muscle man."

"Then who would call John if we get caught?" Neal countered. "We've already gone over this. Letting Klaus come along is enough of a risk."

"Exactly. He's not a con man."

"Yeah, but Travis would have our heads if we gave Klaus access to his electronics."

Henry made a face but didn't raise any further objections. How could he?

Neal sat down on the edge of the bed to sew Travis's fractal button to the hem of his shirt. The bug would allow Henry to eavesdrop.

"Have you ever run a con with Klaus?" Henry asked.

"No, but you were present during the practice session. He'll be fine."

"You're not worried he'll double-cross you?"

"No, I'm not," Neal said firmly.

Henry lifted his hands in a gesture of surrender. "Just checking. And for the record, I agree with you. What with his wedding next weekend, Klaus won't do anything to jeopardize it. Does he know about the amber music box con we ran before your wedding?"

"No. It's never come up, and Chantal wasn't aware of our extracurricular activities either." He'd been much more confident about that con where the Black Diamonds were in full control throughout. In this situation, there were far too many unknowns for his liking. He knew that was why Henry was uneasy as well.

At the appointed time, he and Klaus walked to the address in old Nicosia. It was only a few blocks away from their hotel. The house corresponding to the address had a bright blue door. A welcoming sign or bait for the trap? The man answering Neal's knock set him back for a second. Yuri Bolotnov was an unexpected sight.

The Russian oligarch seemed pleased to see them. "Neal Caffrey. I've waited a long time for this."

Neal quickly composed his features into a surprised smile. "As have I," he said in Russian. Klaus wouldn't have any difficulty following the conversation. His command of the language was also excellent. "Were those earlier incidents job auditions?"

"That's an appropriate way to view them," Bolotnov agreed jovially. "And you passed them with flying colors."

Klaus was smiling amiably, probably clueless about who Bolotnov was unless he'd also had dealings with him. But that didn't seem likely since Bolotnov didn't appear to recognize him.

"Please come in." Bolotnov led them into a contemporary-style living room. No one else was present, but Neal was sure guards were close by.

"Allow me to make the introductions," Neal said, turning to Klaus. "Yuri Bolotnov is a client who had a run of bad luck caused by his unfortunate choices in agents. He tried to acquire diamond jewelry once belonging to Queen Marie Antoinette, but the man he commissioned failed miserably at the task, allowing the FBI to confiscate them. He later commissioned Matthew Keller to steal artifacts from King Tutankhamun's tomb. Keller now sits in prison."

"You've been the victim of squandered opportunities," Klaus agreed. "They caused a needless waste of resources. Are you ready to change your luck?"

The Russian winced over the snarky comments but didn't dispute them. "I find clearing the air useful for future negotiations." He clapped his hands and a servant appeared. "Three brandy sours please." He added something in what Neal believed was Greek. His knowledge of the language was sketchy. Something to work on at a future date.

Neal had heard of the Cypriot cocktail. It had been invented in the 1930s for King Farouk of Egypt and was made with Cypriot brandy and lemon squash. He hadn't had one yet and was looking forward to it almost as much as conning Bolotnov.

"I hope you don't hold me at fault for what happened at the Metropolitan Museum of Art," Bolotnov added.

"I'm not familiar with the incident," Klaus said.

"Keller abducted Mr. Caffrey, claiming to act on my orders. It's a malicious misperception that I'm with the Russian mafia. Instead, it was Keller who'd gotten into bed with them." He turned to Neal. "We were both victimized by him. That shared experience could provide a bedrock for our future business relationship."

"I'd like to think that's the case," Neal said, offering him a genial smile.

"May I see your Rembrandt?"

"Of course," Klaus said, retrieving the painting from the portfolio case he'd brought along. He paused to scan the room. "I suggest we use your dining room table. Do you have a lint-free cloth to cover the table surface?"

Bolotnov gave a brief command to the servant who retrieved a white damask tablecloth from the sideboard.

Klaus placed the painting on the table as carefully as if it was the original. Neal noted the avid glint of the collector in Bolotnov's eyes as he approached it.

Klaus withdrew to the living room to sip his brandy sour with Neal. The drink was remarkably refreshing. So far, everything was going according to plan. Neal watched nonchalantly as Bolotnov used a loupe to scrutinize the portrait. He'd be pleased with the results.

After five minutes, Bolotnov returned to the living room. "A remarkable work," he told Neal. "Phoenix claimed you're a worthy successor to Leonardo and he was right. Perhaps you can clear up a mystery for me. I believe you flew here from Prague. A week ago, a Czech mobster named Pavel Melkin was arrested. Several paintings were seized during the raid. Coincidentally, I visited Melkin a few months ago and he showed me his collection. It included this work. He believed he had the original." He arched an eyebrow and waited for their response.

"I'm familiar with the details of the arrest," Neal said calmly. "Melkin was mistaken. The work was a forgery."

"How can you be so sure?"

"Did you forget I'm on the art crimes task force? Melkin was the reason we chose Prague to set up my studio," Neal bluffed. "The forger was talented, but the evidence of the craquelure was compelling. The forger had also made some mistakes in the markings on the back of the frame. My access makes me uniquely qualified to provide forgeries that will withstand the closest scrutiny."

Bolotnov gave a half-smile. "I'm glad you're upfront about your ability. You will understand why I insist on you being my guest until Klaus returns with the original Rembrandt. You could supply me with a duplicate forgery and I wouldn't be able to tell the difference. I'm paying an exorbitant amount for the Rembrandt. Precautions are surely understandable. Klaus will also need to record himself replacing the painting. You understand, it's nothing personal. It's simply prudent business practice."

"Of course." Neal wasn't surprised. They'd estimated the odds were high the client would demand something similar, and they were ready.

"You'll have no reason to complain," Bolotnov said. "My villa is quite luxurious. Consider yourself on holiday. I fully expect this to be the start of a long and successful relationship."

"I'm glad to hear it," Klaus said calmly. "Our services go far beyond forgeries. Some items by their nature are not suitable for replacement."

Bolotnov eyed him speculatively. "Such as?"

Klaus shrugged. "The crown jewels of several nations come to mind. The Dresden Green Diamond is a tempting target. The Hope Diamond another."

Neal gave Klaus a mental high-five for picking historical treasures Bolotnov would be particularly interested in. As Klaus launched into descriptions of various famous jewels, he put his marketing skills on display. He was like Henry in that respect. To Neal's knowledge, Klaus had never relied on fences. He preferred to make personal connections with his customers, believing that was a surer route for future commissions. Neal had only gotten third-hand accounts of the transactions when he was in the crew since Klaus insisted on him remaining in the background. He used to chafe at the restrictions, but now they were a blessing. His reputation was platinum, but he had few incriminating landmines.

Bolotnov had the tools for Neal to apply the pinpricks and to add a message in invisible ink that would declare it to be a forgery. The Russian requested a design that to Neal looked like the skeleton of a bird. He was eager to hear what Peter thought it was. It also meant that they now had the chance of finding other forgeries with the same pinpricks.

After Klaus left with the modified forgery, Neal was thoroughly searched. His wallet and phone were confiscated but Bolotnov assured him they'd be returned to him at the completion of the job. A BMW took him to a villa on the southern coast of Cyprus after first stopping at his hotel to pick up his suitcase. It too was carefully examined but they missed Travis's toys.

Little did Bolotnov realize he was going to let three cats loose in the mousetrap he'd so carefully designed. Neal's part was to play an indolent lion, spending the day lounging by the pool. The other members of his pride were having all the fun, forcing him to visualize their activities in his head.

Henry had been stationed outside Bolotnov's townhouse in Nicosia during the meeting. He would have followed Bolotnov's car at a discreet distance, helped along by the signal being transmitted from Neal's fractal button.

Meanwhile, Klaus would pretend to depart from the airport. With the assistance of Interpol agents, he'd exit the plane shortly before liftoff and rendezvous with Henry outside the villa.

Their actions were a repeat of what had worked so well in Salzburg. With the aid of Travis's infrared detector, Neal left his quarters at night and selected the best entry point for Klaus and Henry. Since Henry didn't have access to Mozzie's open-sesame device, Neal disabled the security alarms for them.

From then on, they were on their own, searching for the hidden treasure room Neal was sure existed. They couldn't risk calling in Cypriot local police till they had an ironclad case. Surveillance cams in Neal's suite kept him from participating for more than a few minutes, but he was confident his pride could manage without him.

For Henry, it would be a chance to work with the consummate thief of their generation. For Neal, the stress of retrieving his forgery was over. He could work on his butterfly stroke in the swimming pool while they went on a treasure hunt.

The following Friday at the Ellington Mansion.

"So many treasures ..." Sara scanned the list one more time before setting it down. "Even the Swedish crown jewels."

Neal had flown home earlier in the day. He'd already unpacked by the time Sara got home. They'd taken their drinks onto the rooftop terrace where they could enjoy their newly established gardens. Her favorite spot was a bench near a shallow pool with a gentle fountain designed to attract birds. Thanks to Janet's gardening expertise, their sanctuary in the sky was already thriving.

"I wish you could have seen the faces of the Cypriot officials when they found artifacts from their country among the haul," Neal said. "The news will be made public in a few days once the evidence is documented."

"Have any of the paintings been connected to pinprick forgeries?"

"So far, a Rembrandt from Frankfurt and a Caravaggio stolen from Rome. The design was the same Bolotnov had me execute on my forgery. Peter's identified it as one of the constellations, Aquila the Eagle."

"That proves Bolotnov has been a long-time customer of Phoenix."

"After Bolotnov's attempt a couple of years ago, we suspected he was interested in having me paint forgeries, but this confirms it," Neal said. "At least, in my mind it does. Bolotnov isn't talking yet. For a few days, he lived the dream of Klaus and me working for him."

She nodded. "If Rolf is Phoenix, that could explain why Bolotnov didn't make any further attempts after Keller was captured. Rolf might have convinced him your services would soon be available."

"I hadn't thought of that but it makes sense," he said thoughtfully. "I'll inform the team."

"What happens now?"

"I think you'll be pleased to hear Franceso is putting away his palette."

She turned to stare at him. "You're not continuing the con?"

Neal shook his head. "It's reached its expiration date. Phoenix might have believed our first sting was a coincidence but not this one."

"Are you disappointed?" she asked even as her heart soared at the news.

"Frankly it's a relief. The idea of passing my art off as someone else's has lost its allure. Especially after the Rembrandt."

She clasped his hand. "I'm glad to hear it. I much prefer your art too."

"You prefer me to Matisse?" He grinned and leaned over to kiss her. "I do too although no one else may." His expression grew serious. "And you don't have to worry about other forgeries on museum walls. Klaus assured me that the Rembrandt was the lone example."

"Did he explain how it happened?"

"He told me that Rolf negotiated the transaction with Melkin when they were working for Ydrus. By the time Klaus heard about it, Melkin had already placed a down payment on the Rembrandt. Klaus felt he had no choice. He executed the switch."

"Do you believe him?" she asked.

"I do and I don't think I'm being naive. When I worked for Klaus, I used to chafe at the constant practice. None of my efforts were substituted for the genuine article although I thought they could have been. Looking back, I think Klaus was keeping me under wraps until he felt I was ready to be unveiled as Leonardo's successor. Now I'm grateful."

"As am I," Sara said. Neal seldom talked about the details of his criminal activities with Klaus. She hoped he'd eventually disclose more.

"Don't get me wrong," Neal added with the cocky smile she loved. "I wasn't a choirboy. I participated in numerous heists. That reputation I had with Interpol was deserved." He paused to shrug. "But rumors tend to take on a life of their own. Klaus and I spent much more time discussing hypotheticals and outlining possible heists than committing them."

"Perhaps Klaus was subconsciously shielding you." She winced after she said it. "I could be painting him in a better light than he deserves, but whatever the cause I'm grateful."

"Thank you for understanding. When I placed the original Rembrandt back where he belonged, I imagined the man in the portrait expressing his gratitude. This has also taught me a valuable lesson. I intend to mark all my forgeries with my pinprick signature. I've learned how difficult the pinpricks are to detect. But by photographing their location and storing the documentation with Win-Win, I can ensure that my works will never replace the originals."

"I expect Peter will be very happy to hear Francesco is retiring," she said after a suitable interval to express her happiness at his decision. "And just in time. Diana's very serious about wanting to learn how to be a jewel thief. You need to start planning our jewel thief boot camp."

"You may have to wait your turn," he warned. "Henry's already asked me to conduct more museum heist boot camps. His recent experience has whetted his appetite to make Win-Win the premier art crime investigator. The Dutch have also asked to be fit into the schedule. Yesterday Marcel contacted me. He wants me to lead a workshop for his team. Could you free up your schedule to leave for Paris a day earlier?"

"Let's make it five," she suggested. "Nothing's going on at Columbia. We haven't taken much time off since our honeymoon. We could go to Auvers-sur-Oise. I've never been to Fontainebleau."

"More time for just the two of us? Give me a day to pack and I'm ready."

Sara heard a door open behind them and turned her head to see Mozzie emerging from his spiral staircase.

"Get out the champagne! I was just on the phone with Prestini. He's given Scima the green light to proceed! We're on a countdown to produce a video trailer by the time of his rocket launch. And not only that. He's invited us to join him in Spain for the launch!"


Notes: It's not outrageous to think that Bolotnov had the Swedish crown jewels in his possession. I was inspired by an actual theft that took place in 2018.

Neal escaped being trapped this time. Will he be as lucky in my next story? I'll post Vermeer Interrupted on November 21. Phoenix's years of anonymity come to an abrupt halt in this tale that includes a trip to Amsterdam as well as the rocket launch Mozzie is so excited about.

Some of you may suspect Klaus and Rolf will also be involved in a story that has Vermeer in the title. You'll find a few clues in my blog post, Vermeer Interrupted.