psychic crystal 03 - killer cruise (6 page)

“Fill out your name on this card. I want to buy them both for you.”

Juliette smiled. “I’ve never owned anything so beautiful. Thank you.” Juliette couldn’t stop staring at the paintings.

Wade opened a drawer and pulled out a single glossy sheet. “Here is some literature about this particular artist.” He handed Juliette the artist’s bio. She filled out the form with her name, address, and cabin number, and handed it to Wade.

Not to be dissuaded, Kate turned purposefully back toward the original stack of paintings, to a particular Chagall. “I’m afraid I have my heart set on this Chagall or one of these other quality pieces you’re hiding in the alcove. I would be willing to exceed any current bids.”

“As I’ve told you before, they’ve all been presold,” Wade apologized impatiently. “We’re not
hiding
anything.”

“By the same mysterious buyer?” Kate wondered.

Wade was silent for a moment. “Perhaps you can take another look around, ladies, to see if there’s anything else you like. We have another week until the auction, and we’ll be here the entire time until then.”

“I’m afraid we have dinner reservations, but thank you for your time,” Kate said, backing away, almost choking on the murky aura in the alcove.

“Since you’re buying the paintings, you’ll need to fill out a form, too,” said Wade, “with your cabin number.”

Juliette flashed wary eyes at the man.

The man addressed Kate, but his eyes skewered Juliette. “Miss Hale, isn’t it? And what did you say your cabin number was?”

“She didn’t,” answered Juliette, grabbing Kate’s hand as she shoved her daughter out the door, where they bumped into Jack and Will.

“Kate, what’s wrong?” Jack asked. “You look as if you’ve seen a ghost.”

“Well, in a way I have. The ghosts of some long dead artists, whose genius has survived.”

“I don’t understand.”

“Some of the paintings Juliette and I saw in there… They’re stolen. They offer those Old Masters and others as a come-on. The auctioneer claims they’re all spoken for. I doubt they were ever really for sale.”

“Are you sure?” Jack asked.

“Absolutely. I’ve not only studied these paintings or paintings like these, but I’ve seen them or very similar work by the same artists in galleries all over the world. Either these pieces are very skillful reproductions, or something’s rotten in Denmark.”

“Denmark?” Will asked. “I thought this was a Mediterranean cruise.”

Kate laughed. “It’s just an expression, Will. After dinner I want to take another look around—a closer look. Jack, I think these people are operating some kind of black market smuggling ring, and right under the nose of the cruise line. I’m coming back to the auction next Saturday night to find out the name of the person who has bought these paintings.”

“Kate, don’t you think that might be dangerous?” her husband said.

“Not if everything is on the up and up. Aren’t we supposed to be looking for anything that seems suspicious? This is definitely suspicious. That man was nervous. He didn’t like us poking around. He knows my name, and he tried to get my cabin number. It shouldn’t be too hard to find. Maybe we should tell the captain what we’ve discovered.”

“But Kate, I filled out a form. He knows my name and where I live,” Juliette said, wringing her hands. “Which means he knows where you live. I knew I had a feeling about this gallery. And that man. I feel as though I’ve seen him before. But I just can’t place where.”

“Let’s not alarm the captain. Why don’t we go to dinner and talk about it.”

“Good idea, Jack. I’m starving,” said Will, before giving Juliette a hungry look.

Chapter Seven

“What is our plan of attack?” Will asked Jack as he cut into a juicy steak, releasing the excess blood to trickle into and ruin a perfect presentation of fluffy garlic mashed potatoes.

Well, you see, right there, Juliette rationalized, that’s why she and Will could never be a couple. She detested the sight of raw meat, and Will had probably never eaten a salad in his life. The man had obviously skated through life on his good looks. Certainly he never traded on his social graces.

Of course, the Reverend Carter Coulter had possessed social graces to spare. He was polished, educated, smooth—and smarmy to the core. And she had fallen for him like a naïve schoolgirl, like so many other impressionable young sensitives in the Florida seaside community of Casa Spirito. Since that debacle, she had hardened her heart to every man. No one was ever going to break down her defenses again. She rarely looked back, not since she had murdered her former lover, but, on the plus side, if it hadn’t been for the reverend, she wouldn’t have Kate, the greatest gift in the world.

The seafood dish she’d ordered was delicious, lighter and flakier and more tender than anything she’d ever tasted. She studied Kate and Jack. Both had ordered the sea bass. They couldn’t keep their eyes or their hands off each other. They existed in perfect harmony on every plane. Kate fairly glowed. Well, some of that had to do with her delicate condition. A condition Kate herself was not yet aware of. Juliette was going to be a grandmother.

Jack took a drink of water before he spoke.

“I’m glad the captain had to cancel on dinner. It gives us a chance to talk privately. From what the girls said, there’s something fishy going on with this art auction business. We have to consider that the cruise line could be aware of it or at worst could be involved. We have no idea how these auctions work. They could be another way for the cruise line to make money, like their gambling concession. But we weren’t brought on board to catch an art thief or muddy up the works of the ship. Our purpose is to protect the members of the European Union central bank conference while they negotiate a treaty. There’s where the threat lies. The captain received a threat to the lives of the representatives. Now whether that will be a bomb or an assassin, we’re not sure. But there’s where we need to focus our efforts.”

“I’m getting a bad feeling about that man in the gallery,” Juliette objected. “I’m not so sure stealing art is all he’s about.”

“Okay. I’ll have a talk with the captain and have him look into this person. Did you get his name?”

“He said his name was Wade Randall, but he didn’t look like a Wade.”

“Honey, just what does a Wade look like?” Will wondered.

“I don’t know. Just not like him. For some reason, he seems familiar to me.”

“There’s something off about him that bears investigating,” Kate agreed.

Jack threw up his hands. “Far be it from me to disagree with the two most talented and beautiful psychics I know.”

“How many other psychics do you know, Jack?” Kate teased.

Jack gave her a smile. “I’ll have the captain look at the passenger list and the employee roster. And I’ll contact a friend of mine at the Art Loss Register or the Commission for Looted Art in Europe and some of the Lost Art Database websites that recover plundered art, to see if they have any record of stolen art of the type you saw at the gallery. I’ll check with the FBI’s arts crime unit and run it by Interpol to see if we get any hits. Kate, how do you think these paintings, if they’re not forgeries, got onto the ship?”

“They could have been stolen right off the wall at a museum, or at an exhibition or showing of works by the artist, on loan from another museum or a private collector. Some of the paintings in the gallery are quite small, like 8 by 10 inches in size, or only centimeters. And then, too, the man could have smuggled a stolen painting on board hidden behind another painting. I’ll bet if I took a closer look at one of those paintings from the artist in Prague, who knows what I would find? I think whoever reserved those paintings will have them shipped home and end up with one or more masterpieces, free and clear, undetected and unpunished.”

“How do they get away with it?” Jack asked his wife.

“Most times they are stolen right out from under large crowds, during celebrations, say, for example, the Olympics, or a Millennium celebration. The thieves are brazen. If the painting is large enough, they’ll cut the art right out of the frame, roll it up, and disappear, which is a crime against culture in itself. Sometimes they will steal only a panel of an altarpiece. And there are private collectors who would pay dearly for the privilege of owning and hoarding such paintings or works of art, and the world would never have the joy of looking at them again.”

“How much do you think these paintings are worth?” Will asked.

“Millions,” Kate stated. “The auctioneer estimated $100,000 for just one piece, but collectively they are easily worth ten times that amount. The reward for information leading to their return can run into the millions. Stolen paintings in art heists are not uncommon, and even though they discount the price, the thieves walk away with a fortune, if they can unload them.”

“Why would anyone do such a thing?” Juliette asked.

“For any number of reasons. Politics. Often there are ransom notes associated with a theft. Not to mention the thousands of paintings plundered, confiscated, or destroyed by the Nazis—650,000 works of art looted from Europe alone—only a fraction of which have been recovered or restored to their rightful owners or their descendants and heirs after the Holocaust.”

Juliette fixed her eyes on Kate and took in her pallor. “Honey, is there something wrong?”

“I think I’m going to be sick,” Kate gasped, getting up from her chair.

“Kate, sweetheart—” Jack said. ”Are you seasick?”

“I’ll tend to her, Jack,” Juliette said. “This is a typical reaction she has. It’s her sensitivity to evil.”

Jack looked helpless.

“She’ll be fine,” Juliette assured.

Juliette helped Kate out of the restaurant and to the nearest restroom, where Kate flew into the stall, threw up, and flushed the toilet. When she walked out, her face was still an unearthly white.

“I-I don’t know what happened,” Kate said. “I must be seasick.”

“You’re sick, all right, but it has nothing to do with the sea. When was your last menstrual cycle?”

Kate flashed Juliette a puzzled look. “I know I’ve had a, I mean, I think I had one, at least I thought I’d had—” Kate paused and did the calculation. “I haven’t had my cycle since before our honeymoon.”

Juliette smiled. “Katherine Crystal Hale, you’ve just made me the happiest grandmother-to-be on earth.”

“You mean I’m—”

“For a psychic, you are not doing such a good job of seeing into the future.”

“But it’s so soon.”

“It only takes once, and the way you and Jack are together, I imagine you’ve had quite a bit of opportunity.”

Kate blushed. “But how can I be sure?”

“I’m as sure as I can be,” Juliette said. “I’ve known for a long time. In fact, I saw it the first time I saw you and Jack together in my shop. But let’s see if we can find a pregnancy test somewhere aboard this ship, if you need less ethereal proof.”

Kate and Juliette strolled hand in hand toward a sundry shop.

“Won’t Jack worry?” Kate said.

“Yes, and a little concern now and then won’t hurt him. We’ll just pick up the test and you can perform it at the first opportunity in your cabin.”

“Jack and I are just getting to know each other.”

“I had you when I was no more than seventeen. You’re almost twice that. It’s time. It’s the right time.”

Chapter Eight

When Jack, Kate, Juliette, and Will dropped by the gallery after dinner, the room was dark and the doors were locked.

“That’s strange, for a place to be locked up when they should be encouraging people to browse the gallery for art,” Juliette said. “I think we should find the captain.”

“Don’t we have reservations for the show tonight?” Will asked. “I was looking forward to hearing those singers.”

“The only thing you’re looking forward to is seeing the skimpy costumes of the girls in the show.”

“Now, Juliette, honey,” Will protested. “You don’t know that. And they have nothing on you.”

“Stuff it, Chief. I know your type. You’re only interested in one thing.”

“I’m only interested in one person, and that’s you,” Will objected.

“Just cut out the bull. No one can hear us. You’re not impressing anyone but yourself.”

“Now, kids, behave yourselves,” Jack said. “Maybe that’s just what we need, a little diversion. Starting tomorrow, we’re going to have to be diligent and keep an eye on the monetary meeting. And we’re at the theater already. Kate, you sure you feel up to a show?”

“I’m fine, Jack. Let’s go in.”

The four flashed their shipboard IDs and were waved through the line of people heading for the theater.

“Let’s sit in the front,” said Will.

“So you can see the breasts in the burlesque show better?” Juliette said.

Will put his arm around Juliette’s shoulders.

“You know yours are the only breasts I’m interested in, darlin’.”

Juliette blew out a breath. “That’s crude. You’re impossible, Will Bradley. I’m sure you’re on the lookout for that cute Caroline Garrison we met on the behind-the-scenes tour.”

Will stared into Juliette’s eyes. “You’re the only one I’m looking at. I’m not interested in the stage manager.”

Juliette crossed her arms and tried to maneuver out of Will’s arms.

“Trying to make your escape?” Will tightened his grip.

“I like to sit in the back so I can make my escape,” Jack said, in an attempt to stop the sparring between Will and his mother-in-law.

“Let’s compromise and sit in the middle,” Kate reasoned.

The four took their seats halfway back from the stage and enjoyed the dancing, singing, flash, and fanfare.

Juliette was entranced. “I’ve never seen anything like this. I can’t believe I’m here on a cruise, with all the delicious food and classy entertainment and the beautiful scenery. And earlier this evening, when I looked up at the stars, the constellations were so vibrant against the midnight sky. It’s just magical.”

Kate reached out to squeeze Juliette’s hand. “I’m so glad you could come along. I’ve been looking forward to this time for us to really get to know each other better.”

Tears slid from Juliette’s eyes. She had been thinking the same thing. She couldn’t remember a time when she’d been so happy. She couldn’t believe she was sitting here, right next to the daughter she thought she’d lost forever.