Chapter 14 #2
“We’re investigating the death of Cheryl Somers,” Gary began, keeping his voice low, even, and respectful.
“Who?” His shaggy eyebrows scrunched up.
“The artist you commissioned to copy Young Woman in a White Turban, by Frederick Arthur Bridgman.” Gary smiled. “The painting hanging in the room we passed through to join you out here.” Dan had spotted it instantly and pointed it out.
“The same painting you sold in 1992,” Dan added.
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Mr. DiFanetti’s eyes gleamed. “I think you’d better leave.”
“The sale is a matter of public record,” Dan continued. “What we’d like to know is which one you sold—the original or the copy.”
“And I still have no idea what you’re talking about,” Mr. DiFanetti ground out through gritted teeth.
Gary held up a folder. “Cheryl kept records of everything, including the photos she took of the original. Photos clearly taken in this house.”
The air became frigid.
“That fucking….”
“Can I take a closer look?” Dan asked. Before Mr. DiFanetti could respond, he headed back indoors, Gary following.
“No, you may not.” For an elderly man, DiFanetti moved fast. He hurried over to where Dan stood in front of the painting. “I asked you to leave.” His hands were at his sides, clenched into fists.
“And we will, in a moment.” Dan turned to look at Gary.
“It’s signed.” He touched the frame. “This is the Bridgman.” Then he gazed at DiFanetti, and Gary was awed by his boldness.
“You sold her copy, didn’t you? How did you do that?
Auction the original, then swap it for the copy?
Or maybe you went with a little bribery. ”
“That’s a very serious accusation.”
Dan nodded. “Which is why I said maybe. It was just a suggestion. So what happened? Did Cheryl find out? Did she threaten to report the fraud?”
“How dare you come into my house and accuse me of such… nonsense?”
Except DiFanetti was pale.
“It isn’t nonsense if we have the painting checked out and discover we were right all along,” Gary said quietly.
“And what makes you think I would give you access? But I can promise you this.” DiFanetti’s eyes were like steel. “If you pursue this line of inquiry, you’ll regret it.”
Gary arched his eyebrows. “That sounds like a threat.”
Stirred up indeed.
DiFanetti regarded them with wide eyes. “Now, would I threaten a police detective? I’m a law-abiding citizen who happens to have friends in high places. I believe I’ve asked you twice to vacate these premises.”
“We’ll leave,” Gary told him. “But this won’t be our last visit. And that’s my promise.”
Something smelled rotten in Nantucket, and Gary aimed to discover what lay beneath that foul odor.
“If you have any more questions, feel free to pass them on… to my lawyer.” DiFanetti turned his head toward the front of the house. “Mrs. King? These gentlemen are leaving.”
The housekeeper showed them to the door, and they stepped into warmth and sunlight.
Dan shuddered. “Okay, that was scary.” They headed for the gate.
Gary’s mind was working nonstop. “Now we’ve met him? I like your theory that Cheryl discovered the fraud and confronted him. I wouldn’t be surprised to learn someone in this family had her killed to silence her. I wouldn’t put anything past this family.”
“We need to examine the painting he sold. It belongs to a private collector now.”
Gary had been thinking about that too. “Maybe… maybe she left a visual clue. Something in the painting. Or maybe something on the back of the painting, under the lining.” When Dan stared at him, Gary sighed. “I’m making this up as I go along.”
Dan looked up and down Cliff Street. “The Fluke must be around here somewhere. You know, Senator Cain’s summer home.”
Gary stared at him. “Whatever you’re thinking, the answer is no.”
“But we know Senator Cain is here now. The whole family is staying until Labor Day, remember? So why can’t we pay him a visit while we’re here?”
Gary shook his head.
“Give me one good reason why not.”
“I’ll give you two,” Gary replied dryly. “One, you nailed it when you said the whole family is here. I am not walking into a houseful of people to question a senator. When we speak to him, we do it without an audience. Let’s wait until we know he’s in Lenox.”
“Why?”
“That’s the second reason.” Gary smiled. “I want to get a look at his art collection.”
Dan frowned. “You’re surely not going to wait until September to speak to him there.”
“We won’t have to wait that long,” Gary said confidently. “If we tell him it will help us find Cheryl’s killer, he’ll agree to meet us at the Lenox house.”
Dan tilted his head. “How far is Lenox from Hyannis?”
“It has to be at least a six-hour drive, there and back.”
“And you think he’ll agree to drive all that way just to see us?” Before Gary could reply, Dan continued, “You might be right. He really did care for Cheryl. He looked after her and her dad. And he wants her killer found.” He glanced at Gary. “What’s his background?”
“Why do you ask?”
“Because I’m sure you ran a background check on him.
I mean, he struck me as an honest kind of guy, but just because he’s a senator doesn’t mean he’s squeaky clean, not in these corrupt times.
That’s like saying just because someone’s a detective, he won’t commit a crime—as we both know all too well. ”
Gary grimaced. “Don’t bring Lewis up, okay? I still have a hard time believing what he did. And as to your question, the Cains are an old Boston family. Politics seem to run in the blood. His father was a senator. His grandfather too.”
“You said he’s popular with the voters,” Dan observed. “So if he supports gun control, he’s not the kind of politician who’d accept large donations from the NRA?”
Gary had to agree. “From what I’ve read, he seems to be clean.”
Dan chuckled. “You sound disappointed.”
Gary snorted. “Day ain’t over yet. Let me make some calls, see if I can get us another interview.”
“Why do you want to see the senator’s art collection?”
“Well, don’t you want a look at his Caravaggio? What if he pulled the same trick we’re accusing Paul DiFanetti of? And Cheryl found out?” Gary smiled. “What did you say to me a moment ago? ‘Just because he’s a senator doesn’t mean he’s squeaky clean, not in these corrupt times.’”
And a corrupt senator had more to lose than most.