Page 40 of The Art of Vanishing

Jean

Mark did not bring Linda up to our neck of the woods. That made sense, I guessed, that he would also question her in the place where she’d been tonight: the gallery where they’d held her captive. I hoped Linda was okay.

And Claire too. Was she completely panicking right now?

I’d been sure they were going to lock her up immediately, that someone would have seen her emerging from the painting somehow.

Sure, that wasn’t the crime they were investigating, but it had to be some kind of rule breaking.

I’d been so relieved when Mark said she’d be able to go home.

Home to her daughter. Claire had a daughter. That fact didn’t bother me, of course it didn’t. I bet she was an amazing mom. But why had she chosen to keep it from me for all this time? Why didn’t she want me to know that side of herself? How much did I truly know about Claire?

The urgency of the evening seemed to lessen with each minute that passed since the theft; each hour left it feeling a little more normal, familiar even.

This was the state of our world now, until it wasn’t anymore and we’d adjust to some new way of being.

Was this my and Claire’s new way of being?

Would I adjust to that too? Would Claire come back tomorrow?

“This is what we’ll be known for now.” Marguerite exhaled a long, steady cloud of smoke. “When people ask, ‘Which museum is that again?,’ they’ll say, ‘The one with the theft.’?”

“Unless they find it,” said Pierre. “Then it’s something entirely different.

The whole value of this relatively mysterious object could change in just a few hours because of what happened tonight.

You heard Mark, it was far from the most valuable thing in here, but if it’s found, its value may have just grown exponentially. ”

“I don’t know that we’ll be seeing that journal again,” Marguerite said, her voice laced with skepticism.

“Jean, you were there!” Pierre exclaimed. “You truly have no further information?”

“There were two figures, completely covered from head to toe except for their eyes. I know no more than you.” I could tell how frustrated he was with me. I’d be frustrated with me too, if I could think of anything besides Claire.

“It’s absolutely mind-blowing,” Pierre said, “that we witnessed it and we still know no more than the investigation team. If only we knew more, we could help them. Claire could tell them! It’s not too late.

It’s probably still in the city. It’s maybe even still in the museum!

” He was getting worked up and took a breath to steady himself.

“What do you think they plan to do with it anyway?”

“Sell it,” Marguerite said. “What else would they do?”

“Read it?” I guessed. “I wonder what happens now,” I ruminated, dread pooling in my stomach. What if they shut the museum down again? As if on cue, Mark, Jamie, and the head of security strode into the room.

“So,” Jamie asked, “what happens next?”

“Well, the short version is we try to get the journal back immediately. The longer an art crime goes unsolved, the more likely it is that the item won’t be seen for a generation, when it’s less risky to sell.”

Jamie looked like she was going to be ill. Mark continued.

“We begin our investigation. We’ll stay in town, continuing to monitor the museum, following up through our outside channels, putting together any leads we might have from the information we’ve gathered here tonight.

We’ll have people watching for the item to pop up, for sale or for ransom.

We’ll have our digital team dig into the online scene and see if they can find anything there.

We’ll probably need to talk to all the staff again, as well as any key players who weren’t on-site tonight.

And we’ll go back over these security tapes until they start to make sense.

We’ll talk to Tony, figure out why he let them in.

Where did Claire hide? There are weird corners cut off by the camera angles, typical in a building like this one that has spaces of all shapes and sizes.

We’ll cross-reference the footage with our database of known conspirators, see if we draw any familiar faces out. ”

“Familiar faces?” Officer Kaminski asked. “Is there a pool of usual suspects for something like this?”

“That’s what the movies would have you believe,” Mark said.

“But, to be honest, no. It’s rarely, if ever, some all-powerful art connoisseur pulling the strings.

It’s far more likely for it to be tied to a local crime ring.

Our Philadelphia branch will handle that part of it, looking for possible connections.

Because this piece has been in the news so much, it might have crossed someone’s mind as an easy target.

Alternatively, since they only took one thing, it’s possible we have a rare personal collection case on our hands.

It’s hard to speculate. We’ll see what we find. ”

“Should we open the museum as normal in the morning?”

“That’s up to you and the board, I would imagine. From my experience, you’re going to get a crowd who shows up specifically to see the absence of the thing. If you’re okay with that, we can’t tell you how to run your museum, so it’s really up to you.”

“I’d imagine we’ll choose reopening; after four months of closure, I don’t think we can afford to do it again.”

“In that case, I’d double security for the next few days. I’m less worried about someone making it out of here with something than I am about someone thinking they can make it out of here with something. We see it all the time, one theft blazing a trail for other attempts.”

Jamie nodded. “Good point. Officer Kaminski, can you handle that?”

“Absolutely, I’ll do so as soon as we’re done here. There will be no copycats, not on my watch.”

“From your mouth to God’s ears,” Jamie muttered under her breath.

“Are there any other items here you think might be at risk? Anything you might want to better secure before letting the public roam the halls once more? Or anything the journal might be connected to?”

Jamie seemed to run the question over in her mind. “I don’t think so. We’ve never had a problem like this before.”

“We’ll keep the whole museum safe,” Officer Kaminski said, confusingly optimistic for a man who had been caught unaware by a theft of indeterminable value just hours earlier.

“All right, case is open. Let’s get down to it. I’ll be back tomorrow to continue what we need for the investigation on-site,” Mark said, packing up his notebook and recorder in a leather messenger bag he’d abandoned at the foot of the bench earlier that night.

“I know you have to do what you have to do, but will you be wearing that jacket?” Jamie slowed Mark down from barreling to the exit, her eyes scanning the bright yellow letters on the jacket’s back.

“You mean you don’t want me traipsing around here while the guests are inside.”

“You’re welcome to be here, of course. I’m just sensitive tothe possibility of causing a scene.”

Mark looked ready to snap back, but he clearly liked Jamie. “I’ll do my best to keep the public interactions to a minimum. And I’ll try to blend in a bit more.”

“Thank you,” Jamie said. She and Stan turned to go; Mark didn’t follow them.

“I’ll be down there in a minute,” Mark said. “I just want to take one more look around.”

Alone now, he dropped his bag on the bench and took a full turn about the room, just as Claire had done when she first started visiting.

He stopped in the center of the space and breathed in deeply.

He opened his eyes, looking right at us, at all of us, frozen into stillness by shock and habit on the walls in front of him.

“What the hell happened here tonight, guys?” he asked. We all kept our mouths shut. He picked his bag back up and headed out of the room. Minutes passed and the automatic lights finally shut off, but the sun was peeking its way into the sky. The room was awash in the blue light of almost dawn.