The Monuments Men Murders (The Art of Murder 4)
“Go home!” De Haan looked aghast.
“Yes. You’ve done what you can do. You’ve got to let us take it from here.”
“I can’t do that. I will not do that.”
“Hans…” Jason struggled for restraint. He threw a quick look back at Doc’s house, and lowered his voice. “You came to me because you thought I could bring about your desired outcome to all your years of investigation, which is the return of these stolen artworks. Isn’t that true?”
“Yes. But you’ve not been able to do this. At every turn they lie and deny. Our progress has stalled.”
“For God’s sake. I’ve just started. You’ve got to give me a little time. We’ve already managed to get Quilletta and Bert to agree to come back to the negotiating table for the van Eyck and the two paintings currently up for auction.”
“They have no choice. There is an injunction to stop the sale.”
“But they’re not appealing. That’s good. That’s what we want. They’re showing a willingness to cooperate with the museum.”
“They deny having the other items. They deny the Vermeer.”
“Yes. They do. Which is why I need to continue my investigation. I’m not taking them at their word. But I also don’t have proof that they’re lying.” Jason added, “And as far as the Vermeer goes, we don’t know that the painting described on the inventory list was a Vermeer.”
“It is the exact description.”
“It’s very similar, I know, but—”
“I can feel it’s here.” De Haan put his hand over his heart. “I know they have it.”
Jason was abruptly reminded of J.J. and his “sixth sense” about gay people. He sighed. “Okay, but that’s not proof.”
“Let me get the proof!”
“That’s my job. Not yours.”
“But I am not bound by the same rules and regul—”
“Stop,” Jason snapped.
De Haan stopped, looking startled and then a little wounded.
Jason said more evenly, “Stop and listen to me. We want the same thing.”
And that was true. Yes, Jason wanted additional things—proof that his grandfather was not involved in the theft—but the end goal was the restoration of these valuable treasures to their homeland. If somehow, unbelievably, his grandfather had been involved in the removal of these works of art, it was all the more important to Jason that he be the one to deliver them back to their rightful places. It was on him to make reparation, restitution.
“Hans, I’m on your side,” Jason said. “If you ‘know’ anything, you know that.”
De Haan met Jason’s gaze. His shoulders slumped. “Yes.”
“I know it’s not easy, but trust me a little longer. I promise I’ll keep you updated every step of the way, but you’ve got to let me do my job.”
De Haan wavered, clearly torn. “You’ll phone me this evening with everything you’ve learned?”
“Whether I’ve learned anything or not, I’ll call you and bring you up to speed.”
De Haan shook his head as though he did not believe it, but finally he turned away.
Jason watched until de Haan got into his car and drove off before returning to his own vehicle.
* * * * *
He was pushing through the glass front doors of the Bozwin satellite office when someone jumped out of the hedge and snapped his photo.