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“What happens next?” she asked.
“Mr. Gillard,” Fiegen said.
“Hey, don’t mind me,” Gillard said. “I love a song and dance as much as the next guy.”
I moved behind Gillard. Fiegen gave him a cold stare. Gillard looked from Fiegen back over his shoulder at me.
“What?” he said.
Fiegen picked up a check.
“I will pay you three-point-eight million for the Jade Lily.” He said it like he was in no mood to haggle.
Gillard looked at me again. “You got it back?” he asked.
“Take the money,” I said.
Gillard returned his gaze to Fiegen. “I don’t know,” he said.
“What don’t you know?” Fiegen asked.
“Three-point-eight million…”
I idiot-slapped Gillard above his right ear with a lot more force than was necessary.
“Okay, okay,” Gillard said. He massaged the side of his head. “Fine. I’ll take it. Geez.”
The check was passed to him. Gillard kissed it, folded it, and stuffed it in his shirt pocket. “Drinks are on me,” he said.
He started to rise from his chair, but I pushed him back down.
“Stay,” I said. “We’re not finished yet.”
Fiegen closed the folder in front of him. “McKenzie, I believe that concludes my part of the festivities,” he said.
“So it does,” I told him. “Heavenly?”
Heavenly left her chair, picked up the aluminum case, and brought it around the table. She set it in front of Branko Pozderac. Pozderac hugged it to his chest like a Christmas gift he wanted to savor before opening. Hemsted’s eyes flicked from the case to me to Fiegen and back to the case as if he were sure there was something terribly wrong, only he couldn’t figure out what. Pozderac opened the case. The Jade Lily was inside, nestled in the gray foam bed. Even under the indifferent overhead lights it was exquisite. Everyone in the room stood to take a good look at it except for India and Gillard. Pozderac ran his fingers gently over the Lily’s flowers and stems. He spoke several words slowly in the Bosnian language. He looked from the Lily to Hemsted. Hemsted nodded. Pozderac abruptly closed the case.
“It is done,” he said.
He turned to face Fiegen. He did not offer his hand, and Fiegen did not offer his.
“It is done,” the Bosnian repeated.
“Yes,” Fiegen said.
“We go.”
Pozderac picked up the case, and he and Hemsted left the room.
“There goes one happy mass murderer,” Heavenly said.
“I don’t understand,” Perrin said. “Mr. Fiegen, what did you just do?”
“I did what was best for the museum,” he said.
“Actually, he did what was best for Minnesota Disposal and Recycling,” I said. “The museum will come out much further ahead than he will, though.”
“You know nothing of big business,” Fiegen said.
“Very true. I wouldn’t be counting those euros just yet, though. See, I do know a little something about human nature, and there’s no telling what Branko is going to do once he discovers that the Jade Lily is a phony.”
I turned my eyes on India and Gillard when I spoke. They both slumped in their chairs like inflatable dolls that had been pricked with a pin. It occurred to me that up until that exact moment, they thought they had gotten away with it.
“What are you talking about?” Fiegen asked.
“The Jade Lily—it’s a fake, a fraud, a forgery.”
“That’s impossible,” Perrin said. “It was authenticated. We had provenance. Cooper? Cooper?”
Perrin was looking directly at her friend, but her friend wouldn’t look at her.
“Dennis was driving your car,” I said. “I was hoping you didn’t know he was in on the theft. That was just wishful thinking on my part, wasn’t it?”
India refused to answer.
“Start talking, McKenzie,” Fiegen said. “Talk fast.”
“The Lily is a fake,” I said. “A forgery committed by a Frenchman named Dr. Arnaud Fornier, who is now doing time for art fraud. He sold it to Mr. Leo Gillard, Jeremy’s father. Mr. Gillard didn’t know it was a forgery, and neither did Jeremy until India Cooper told him—isn’t that right, India?”
She didn’t say if it was or wasn’t.
“Cooper?” Perrin said. “Is it true?”