Chapter 6
Inside the museum, Cade and Hoffman were met with the cool, dry air and a serene stillness.
Reclaimed wood floors anchored the space that spread out before them.
Definitely bigger inside. Calm white walls were filled with carefully lit artwork.
Pedestals showcased small sculptures placed for ideal viewing.
A short, lean man approached, striding with purpose.
His dark hair—gray at the temples—was combed back from an austere face.
He wore a polo shirt emblazoned with the college logo buttoned to the throat tucked into black slacks with a crease sharp enough to cut glass.
“Manuel Rodriguez,” he said, extending his hand to Hoffman. “Thank you for coming.”
She nodded and introduced Cade before asking the curator to walk them through the problem.
Manuel paused to take a breath. “An important painting has gone missing. Stolen, I’m sure. This way.” He tipped his head toward the wide hallway that stretched back from where they stood.
Cade glanced to the right and left, taking note of the layout of the various galleries as he listened to the curator.
“Paula Sorensen’s painting was in storage.” Manuel paused in front of an elevator wrapped with the college logo. “We don’t keep it on display all year, though I’ve often said we should. She was a remarkable talent. The college was blessed to have her so close.”
A troubling uneasiness swirled in Cade’s gut. He should’ve handled the tip right away. Then again, if Devyn had called it in, wouldn’t the psychic know he’d ignore it?
“Where was the painting last seen?” Hoffman asked.
“In the storeroom,” Manuel replied, pressing the button.
He answered a few more basic questions as they rode the elevator down to the lower level.
When they stepped out, Hoffman elbowed Cade. “Just think, you might’ve prevented this if you’d taken action on that tip.”
She’d kept her voice low, but the curator heard and whipped around. “You got a tip about Janice?”
“Hold on. Who is Janice?” Hoffman asked with convincing innocence.
“Janice Willoughby,” Manuel said. “She’s working on her doctorate.” His gaze rose to the ceiling. “Of course, her thesis is tied to Monet.” He tugged on an ear. “So many of them feel a bond with Monet.”
“But not you?” Cade queried.
A corner of Manuel’s mouth twitched up. “I was young once,” he admitted.
“And I went through the same phase myself.” He shrugged narrow shoulders.
“It’s impossible not to, especially if the impressionist movement reaches into your soul.
” He held up one hand. “But. I’ve never had anyone in the program steal a masterpiece.
And I can’t imagine why Janice would do it. ”
“Maybe because graduate degrees are pricey?”
Manuel scowled. “A true art lover doesn’t steal the art to pay for school.”
Cade decided this wasn’t the time for a lecture on the criminal mindset. “Can we back up a minute?” he intervened. “A masterpiece wasn’t stolen. You said the artist was Paula Sorenson. Was she a forger?” He was not following the significance of the theft.
Manuel gasped. “Stop! The stolen painting is not a forgery. Paula Sorenson was an incomparable restoration expert. She could have been a forger had she been born with a criminal bent.” He swallowed.
“No. Not our Paula. She was so true to the artform and the artwork. She was the expert collectors would call in after a disaster. Museums would ask her to come in for exclusive acquisitions and regular maintenance cycles. People don’t put much thought into how we keep exemplary art looking perfect for generations. Paula was a genius.”
“I thought it was all about the light and air exposure,” Hoffman mused.
“Those are significant, but not all.” He moved swiftly toward a worktable and picked up two oversized cards.
“This is a print of Paula’s famous work.
It is a recreation of The Irises in Monet’s Garden.
We sell them in the gift shop here and on campus.
” He held the second card beside the first. “This is a print of Monet’s original. ”
“Damn,” Cade breathed. The prints were identical as far as he could tell. “Did Willoughby think she was stealing a Monet?”
“I can’t imagine why,” Manuel grumbled. “It’s possible of course, but she is a doctorate student. At her level, she should know we do not have the original Monet in our collection.”
“Okay.” Hoffman cleared her throat. “Even the signature is similar.”
“The brushstrokes,” Manuel explained. “Paula’s talent was so rare.” He continued to point out the many deliberate differences Paula had created in her version of Monet’s work.
“That’s...incredible.” Hoffman murmured. “Can you think of a reason why Willoughby would steal either the Monet or Sorenson’s copy?”
“No.” He shook his head. “It doesn’t make sense.”
“But you still think she is behind this?” Cade followed up.
“Yes. According to our security records, Janice was the last person in the storeroom,” Manuel said.
“We usually display the Sorensen in the spring. And we store it during the fall semester,” he continued as he led the way.
“One of our new professors—Garvey—asked to use it for a class next month. It’s highly unusual. ”
“Does Willoughby have any ties to the new professor?” Cade asked. He exchanged a glance with Hoffman and knew they were both thinking that maybe Willoughby was part of a team set on stealing the Sorensen.
Manuel stopped short. “I hadn’t thought of that.”
“That’s why we’re here.” Hoffman’s smile was tight. “And your answer?”
Cade recognized the signs of her teasing out a lead. She would be a good partner, if they weren’t already under the chief’s microscope after the recent psychic assistance.
To his credit, the curator gave the query some serious thought. “No,” he said at last. “Not that I’m aware of. He’s in his first year with us. I don’t know much about either of them before they joined us.”
“We’ll look into it,” Hoffman assured him. She asked more questions about Willoughby and the new professor while she and Cade made notes. “Can we take a look at the security video?”
“Of course.” Manuel gestured toward a smaller hallway. “Follow me.”
Cade glanced around “Does everyone working here understand how your security system works?”
“I barely understand it,” Manuel admitted. “We teach them about the cards and how to set individual access codes. Everyone knows the cameras are on all the time.”
Cade murmured to Hoffman, “Why would she take the risk?”
She shrugged. “Can you tell us anything about Janice’s friends or acquaintances?”
“She was very private.” Manuel tapped his badge to the security panel at the door. “She was friendly and reliable with her work here.”
“Until she walked out with the Sorenson.”
“Yes.”
Having gathered all the information they could, the detectives let the curator walk them out. At the car, Hoffman made a call and within the hour, they had the warrant necessary to search Janice’s apartment.
“She only has about eighteen hours on us,” Cade said. “Maybe we’ll get lucky.