The Mistress(60)

“That’s why we have guns onboard,” he said in a soothing tone, “in case of incidents like that.” But he could see that she was still distressed. She didn’t seem to relax again until they were back at anchor off Antibes. They had been gone for three weeks. Even telling her he’d gotten the Monet at auction didn’t distract her, or even seem to please her.

—

Maylis was working alternate nights with Theo at the restaurant by then, to give him some relief, and Gabriel was feeling well again and going for long walks every day. It had been such a stressful time for Theo that his mother tried to give him a break.

And one of Athena’s fellow officers told her when the boat was back. She mentioned it to Steve the next day.

“We don’t have any reason to go and see him again,” Steve reminded her. “None of the evidence points to him.” It didn’t point to anyone yet. And there was no sign of the twelve missing paintings. All their informants had come up dry, which Athena thought was strange. And all the employees of the restaurant had been thoroughly investigated. No one on the task force, or even at the insurance company, thought it was an inside job. But clearly whoever had done it were professionals, and had high-tech methods.

“I wouldn’t mind talking to his lady friend,” she said, thoughtfully. “If he’ll let me.” She had a feeling that he wouldn’t want her to, which explained why he’d sent Natasha away last time.

“I don’t know what that’s going to get you. She didn’t steal them. Why would she?” Steve said, thinking that for once Athena was looking in the wrong direction.

“Maybe she knows something.” But even Athena knew she was clutching at straws. She saw the boat the next day when she drove through Antibes, and noticed a helicopter taking off from the aft helipad, and wondered if Vladimir was on it. It was worth a shot. If she could get her alone, maybe they’d connect. She looked at Steve and sprang to life. “Get us a boat. We’re going visiting.”

“Now?” He was tired, they’d had a long day, and they were shooting blanks.

“Yes, now!”

Half an hour later they were in a police boat and back at the loading dock of Princess Marina, as Athena flashed her most winning smile at the crew and asked for Vladimir again. She wanted to hear what they’d say. One of the deckhands told her that he’d just left. Athena looked disappointed and then asked if Natasha was there. Theo had mentioned her name to her. They said they weren’t sure and went to ask. And a moment later Steve and Athena were on their way upstairs again. Natasha looked nervous when she saw them, and didn’t know what Vladimir would say about her talking to them. But she couldn’t refuse to speak to the police either, or thought she couldn’t. She was frightened by their visit and what it might mean. What if they knew something, and accused her of being an accomplice, since the paintings were on the boat and so was she? What if they arrested her and she went to prison? The thought of it was horrifying. She hadn’t decided yet what to do about what she had seen in the gun room, whom she should tell, or if she owed it to Vladimir to stay silent. And what it could mean for her if she didn’t. She didn’t dare contact Theo, but she could imagine how distressed he was, with twelve of his father’s paintings gone.

Athena moved into the conversation gently, as she sat with Natasha on the upper deck, and asked her about the portrait Theo had done of her and if she liked it.

“It’s very pretty,” she said, smiling. “He’s a very good artist.” Athena nodded agreement, hoping she’d relax. She could see how nervous Natasha was, and she wasn’t sure why. Maybe she wasn’t allowed to talk to anyone without Vladimir present. He seemed to keep her in seclusion. Athena asked her then how well she knew Theo. “Not at all,” she said quickly. “I’ve only seen him a few times, at the restaurant the first time we went, when he delivered a painting here, and when he brought me the portrait, and I ran into him once at an art fair in London. I didn’t know he was Lorenzo Luca’s son until I saw the portrait and his bio at an art opening I went to in Paris.” She didn’t mention their one lunch in Paris and didn’t want Vladimir to find out.

“You’re not friends, then?” Natasha shook her head and then looked worried.

“Did he say we are?” She looked surprised.

“No, he didn’t,” Athena said honestly. She didn’t want to lie to her and scare her off totally. She didn’t know why, but she had the feeling Natasha knew something, but she couldn’t figure out what. She would have given a week’s pay to read her mind. “He seems like a nice guy, though. He’s very upset about his father’s paintings, as you can imagine. It’s pretty shocking to lose twelve of them at once.” Especially to the tune of a hundred million dollars.

“It must be terrible,” Natasha said softly, looking upset and sympathetic. And then she glanced at Athena. “Do you think they’ll find them?” She hoped they would, she just didn’t want Vladimir to go to prison for it. She felt torn in both directions.

“I don’t know,” Athena said quietly. “Art thefts are strange. Sometimes people keep them and hide them, just to know they own them. Or they get frightened and destroy them, or they disappear to other countries. It depends on why they were stolen. By a frustrated art lover who couldn’t buy them, or as some kind of revenge. Or to sell them. We don’t know why they were stolen, which makes them harder to find.” It had been a month since they were taken, and there were no clues. Natasha nodded thoughtfully as she listened. “Do you have any ideas about it?” she asked her innocently, and Natasha shook her head with an unhappy look, as though she didn’t want to discuss it.