Chapter Twenty-Six #2
“He is an emerging master,” Phillip said. “He has bold statements that can only be captured in primary colors. And of course, also by the liberal use of orange. Can I offer you a coffee? I make excellent coffee. Cappuccino? Latte? Espresso?”
“Espresso would be lovely,” Gabriela said.
“Yeah,” Rafer said. “Make it two.”
Phillip disappeared to make the espressos and Gabriela moved around the gallery.
The room was longer than it was wide. She could see Phillip in a small hospitality kitchen that was behind a partition.
An antique desk was positioned toward the back of the room.
There were two doors behind the desk. Security cameras in all four corners.
Gabriela stopped in front of one of the paintings. “I like this one,” she said to Rafer. “It reminds me of something.”
“It looks like a big orange penis at sunset,” Rafer said.
“Yep, that’s it,” Gabriela said.
Phillip brought the espressos on a silver tray. “I see you have discovered Ralph. This is a wonderful collection, but Ralph is my favorite.”
“In my experience, the size of Ralph seems to be a bit optimistic,” Gabriela said.
“Yes!” Phillip said. “It’s frightening! That’s what makes it so wonderful.”
Gabriela gestured to the rear of the gallery. “Are there more Klemmers back there?”
“Sadly, no. That’s just the owner’s office. We had a larger storage facility several blocks from here, but the lease ran out and it is now a day care facility.”
“Is the owner here now? I’d love to meet him and discuss Ralph,” Gabriela said.
“He’s never here,” Phillip said. “The pricing is displayed on all the paintings, and the owner’s policy is not to negotiate. I’m so sorry.”
“Not at all,” Gabriela said. “The price on Ralph seems reasonable for such a massive amount of orange.”
“Yes! Exactly,” Phillip said.
“And this is excellent espresso. Kudos.”
“It’s all about the beans. And we have a top-notch espresso machine. The owner insists on the best.”
“Obviously,” Gabriela said. “Perhaps I’ll run into him someday. I’ve just moved here. Is he local?”
“Not really. He has an apartment in Milan, but he never uses it. His wife is here quite a bit. She stops in regularly for an espresso. And I add a shot of vodka for her. She was here earlier. She has a routine when she’s in town.
She stops in to say hello and look at the paintings, then she does some shopping and ends up at Coocko for more vodka and nibbles.
I could add vodka to your espresso, if you wish. ”
“No, this is perfect, but thank you. I might have to stop at Coocko in a bit. Are their nibbles any good? I could use nibbles while I think about owning Ralph.”
“Oh, the nibbles are fantastic. And you might run into Gloria. You can’t miss her. Red hair and eyelashes to die for.” Phillip handed Gabriela a brochure. “Gloria’s picture is on the back of the brochure. She’s standing in front of a Klemmer with Mr. Tartoni.”
Gabriela and Rafer left the gallery, walked half a block, and called Jacko for pickup.
“You aren’t really going to buy Ralph, are you?” Rafer asked Gabriela.
“No. Ralph was a nightmare. The good part about that conversation was the nibbles.”
“And Gloria,” Rafer said.
“Yes. And Gloria.”
Jacko did a slow pass in front of Coocko, and Gabriela immediately saw Gloria. She was sitting alone at a small outdoor table.
“There she is,” Gabriela said. “Drop me off. I need some girl time with Gloria.”
Gabriela crossed the street and took a moment to study Gloria.
Curly red hair that Gabriela thought was flattering but not her natural color.
Makeup was a little harsh. Dark red lip gloss that was in place even though she’d been eating and drinking.
Fake eyelashes that were spectacular. Gucci handbag.
Sleeveless Missoni dress. Toned arms. A plate with half-consumed nibbles. An empty martini glass.
Gabriela strolled through the outdoor area and stopped at Gloria’s table. “Omigosh,” Gabriela said, “are you Gloria Tartoni?”
Gloria looked up at Gabriela and blinked once with her thick black lashes. “I am,” she said. “I’m Gloria Tartoni. Do I know you?”
“No,” Gabriela said. “I recognized you from the gallery brochure.”
“An art lover,” Gloria said.
“Sometimes. I wasn’t intending to drop in at your gallery, but I saw Ralph from the window and had to get a closer look.”
“Ahhh, Rrrrrralph,” Gloria growled. “Rrrrrralph. Do you like Ralph?”
“Yes. It’s magnificent.”
“Sit down,” Gloria said. She waved at the waiter. “We need martinis and more nibbles for me and…”
“Gabriela.”
“Nibbles for me and Gabriela,” Gloria said to the waiter.
Gabriela sat down and helped herself to a tiny puff pastry. “This café is unusual for Milan,” she said. “It feels more French or American than Italian.”
“Everything is unusual in Milan,” Gloria said. “You know what isn’t unusual? Boston.”
The waiter hurried over with martinis and a plate of assorted small bites.
Gloria raised her glass. “To Boston.”
“To Boston,” Gabriela said.
“Did you notice the service here? Good, right? You know why? I’m a big tipper.
I come here all the time, and I’m a big tipper.
And I wear dresses that show off my boobies.
I have great boobies.” She ate one of her three martini olives, leaned in to select a cheese cube, and lowered her voice.
“The waiters here are all men, and they all like boobies. Doesn’t matter if a man is straight or gay… they all like boobies.”
Gabriela smiled at that. Gloria was a little drunk. Gabriela suspected that Gloria was a little drunk a lot.
“Does your husband come here for nibbles with you? Is he in Milan?”
“Him? No. He’s in the country house, eating his sausages. Even when he comes to Milan he doesn’t stay in the apartment. He doesn’t like the cats, so he stays in a hotel. Can’t remember the last time he was in the apartment. Maybe never.”
“You have cats?”
“Six. All Mommy’s adorable babies.”
“What happens to them when you aren’t in Milan?”
“I have a live-in housekeeper. It’s a really big apartment.
” She took a good pull on her martini and relaxed back in her chair.
“Antonio has a thing for sausages, did I already tell you that? There’s this special sausage that he gets, like it’s made by God or something.
Goat sausage.” Gloria acted out gagging.
“The only sausage I want to eat is Rrrrralph. You know what I mean?”
“Un-hunh.”
Gloria popped a small pastry into her mouth. “Shrimp,” she said, picking through the plate to find another one.
“It must be nice to have a country house,” Gabriela said. “Do you have it filled with art? I imagine a country house would be filled with old masters’ oil paintings.”
“Nope. None. Just a lot of white walls. Except for the wine cellar. You never know what you’re going to find in the wine cellar.”
“Really? What’s in the wine cellar?”
“Wine. Actually, it’s a wine cave. It’s massive. We drink a lot of wine. When you live in the country that’s what you do. Drink wine.”
“I live in New York, and I drink a lot of wine,” Gabriela said.
“Red or white?” Gloria asked.
“Red.”
“Hah! I knew it. White is for sissies,” Gloria said. “Real women drink red.”
“Fuckin’ A,” Gabriela said.
They clinked martini glasses.
Gabriela sipped her martini and gave Gloria her full attention. “I’m fascinated about your wine cave. You said you never knew what you’d find in it. What besides exotic, wonderful wines? Aladdin and a magic lamp? Are you keeping a genie in your wine cave?”
“Hah!” Gloria said. “I wish. It’s just stuff. It comes and goes. Usually it goes home, wherever that is.” She stared into her martini glass. “Damn. Someone drank my martini.” She did a snort laugh and waved her hand in the air, and another two martinis were delivered to the table.
Gabriela leaned forward, eyes wide, like they were college roomies sharing secrets. “What stuff comes and goes in the wine cellar?”
“All kinds of stuff. It started at Harvard. Antonio and three other morons got high and drunk one night and kidnapped a guy and held him for ransom as a prank.”
“Get out!”
“Honest to God,” Gloria said. “They got money for him and everything.”
“And they didn’t get caught?”
“No. Some dumb-ass fraternity got blamed.”
“Wow. I never did anything like that when I was in college. I was boring.”
“Yeah,” Gloria said. “Me too.”
“Did they kidnap anyone else?”
“A bunch of people. Nobody famous or anything. It was just for fun and Antonio said they used the ransom money for keggers. And then one of them saw The Thomas Crown Affair with Pierce Brosnan and they decided to be Pierce Brosnan and ransom some art. After they graduated, they all got jobs and lived all over the world, but they stayed in touch because what they really liked was being Pierce Brosnan a couple times a year.”
“I could see that,” Gabriela said. “He’s very cool in a hot way.”
“Yeah. He was James Bond, too.”
“I’ll drink to that,” Gabriela said.
Gabriela took another sip of her martini and Gloria chugged the remainder of hers.
“They even gave themselves a name,” Gloria said.
“Get out!”
“Honest to God. They called themselves the Kings, from their second-favorite movie and video game.”
“Kingsman?” Gabriela said.
“That’s it!”
“How many Kings are there?” Gabriela asked. “Are there a lot of them?”
Gloria held up three fingers. “Four. Four Kings.”
“And you said they’re all over the world. It must be hard for them to work as a kidnapping team.”
Gloria searched the nibbles for shrimp and came up empty. “Some men get together a couple times a year and go fishing or hunting or circle jerking. The Kings get together and kidnap people and steal art.”
“Even now that you’re in Italy?” Gabriela asked.
“It’s good in Italy. There’s lots of art and stuff, and we’ve got the big house in Valgenico to keep things in until they’re ransomed.
We bought it when we first moved to Rome.
It was like a vacation house. We moved into it full-time six years ago when Antonio retired.
” She went to a slurred whisper. “Actually, he got fired when Daddy died and the company got sold. Anyway, moving full-time to Valgenico was a big mistake. Talk about boring. There’s nothing to do in Valgenico.
Hiking and skiing. Do I look like a hiker or skier?
No, I’m a shopper. And everyone speaks Italian in Valgenico. ”
“Still, it has to be kind of exciting to have kidnapped people in your house.”
Good thing she’s drunk, Gabriela thought, because only someone high or under the influence would participate in this conversation.
“Not so much,” Gloria said. “They were always locked away in the wine cellar. And anyway, they stopped kidnapping people when one went nuts and destroyed about a million dollars’ worth of cabernet.
Antonio said he was claustrophobic. Who knew.
Once they ransomed a racehorse, but he pooped all over the floor. ”
“I guess you have to think ahead when you’re in the business of ransoming things.”
“Fuckin’ A. That’s why art is good. It doesn’t poop or anything.”
Gabriela crammed a miniature quiche into her mouth to keep from laughing out loud. “Is there art in the wine cellar now?” she asked. “I might want to ransom some.”
“I don’t know. They were moving a lot of stuff out when I was getting ready to leave for Milan. Something crapped out in the cave’s climate control and they were afraid of mold.” Gloria pulled an e-cig out of her purse and sucked and puffed, spewing peppermint vapor.
“It’s not really any of my business, but kidnapping and art heists sound illegal,” Gabriela said. “Are you worried that you’re involved?”
“It doesn’t seem like much of a crime,” Gloria said.
“Everything always gets returned. It’s more like a reality show.
And in the movie Pierce Brosnan ended up at a resort with Rene Russo.
Lucky Rene.” Her eyelashes were at half-mast and she had stopped smiling.
“I’m getting tired,” Gloria said. “This always happens. I think it’s the nibbles. ”
“No doubt,” Gabriela said.
Gloria settled the bill, hugged Gabriela, and headed home to her apartment. Gabriela looked around and spotted Rafer and Jacko parked across the street.
“How’d it go?” Rafer asked.
“Surreal,” Gabriela said. “I’m trying to decide if I cleverly extracted information out of Gloria Tartoni or if I was just totally played.”
“Let’s go with the option A,” Rafer said. “What did she tell you?”
“I’ll give you the short version. Tartoni, Bench, Rocky Mausud, and Teddy Searl are behind the thefts. They had the art stored in Tartoni’s wine cellar, but the climate control had problems and they were afraid things would mold, so they moved everything out.”
“They moved the art into Castello Blanco,” Rafer said.
“Yes. Either we missed it when we were there, or else it’s been moved again,” Gabriela said. “Probably it was moved again. There wasn’t much in the way of climate control there either.”
“Maybe it was moved into the day care facility,” Rafer said. “Maybe Phillip wasn’t being completely honest.”
Jacko drove past what had formerly been Tartoni Storage. It was painted yellow and orange and it was decorated with pictures of flowers and rainbows. There were several moms with strollers waiting outside.
“Now what?” Jacko said.
“Now we go back to Valgenico, and tomorrow we do a better search of the castle,” Gabriela said. “If we don’t find anything there, we’re going after Tartoni.”
“That might be above my pay grade,” Jacko said.