The Black Sun Conspiracy

Chapter Three

Anyone other than Purdue might have looked shifty or embarrassed at having been caught out. But as Sam and Nina both knew, that was not in Purdue’s nature.

He looked Nina straight in the eye, his face calm and solemn. “Of course,” he said. “I doubt there will ever come a time when there is nothing I have held back. In answer to your first question, I was concerned that they might be looking for a particular artefact that I have in my possession. That would of course assume, that they were somehow aware of Sam’s connection with me, but that would have been entirely possible for anyone who had uncovered this address and observed the property for a while.”

“What kind of artefact are we talking about here?” Sam asked. “Something you’re not meant to have? Stolen property?”

Purdue shrugged. “The means by which I acquired it were comparatively fair. Stolen, yes, but not by me — or at least, not from its rightful owner. It was merely something I found on behalf of someone else, and it will be out of my hands soon enough.”

A sudden snort from Nina made Sam jump. “Great!” she cried. “Just great. So we won’t be in any danger, then? You can just get on with whatever dodgy stuff you’re doing, and we’ll be safe as houses. Well, I know I’m reassured!” She dropped into a chair, exasperated. “What is it, and who is it for? If this has anything, anything at all to do with the Black Sun…” she trailed off, too furious to think of a threat grave enough.

Without replying, Purdue rose and went into his room. He returned a moment later with a small cardboard tube, which he handed to Nina. “See for yourself,” he said. “But take great care with it. In its current state it will keep us safe for several months.”

Puzzled, Nina opened the tube and cautiously slid its contents out. A cylinder of rolled-up fabric fell into her hand. She spread it across her knees. It was a painting, no bigger than a sheet of A4 — an oil painting depicting a tranquil riverbank, with reeds and tall grass swaying in a gentle breeze in the foreground and lavender blue water rippling in the background.

“It’s beautiful,” she acknowledged. “But what is it? I take it it’s valuable. Who painted it?”

“Renoir,” said Purdue. “In 1879. According to legend it was a gift to his mistress, painted on a linen napkin — hence its unusual size.”

“And you stole it?” Sam asked, failing to suppress a smile. Purdue terrified him sometimes, but he could not help a sneaking admiration and amusement at the man’s sheer audacity.

Purdue shook his head. “It was originally stolen some time ago — in the 1950s, if I am not mistaken. From the Baltimore Museum of Art. It has since changed hands a number of times. It is considered to be something of a prize amongst people who take their art collections seriously. Seriously enough to want to include work that has never been, strictly speaking, on the market.”

“So what are you doing with it?” Nina demanded. “Are you planning to keep it? I’d have thought that you might have more than just your art collection on your mind just now.”

Sam thought he caught a flicker of emotion cross Purdue’s face, but he could not quite tell what it was. Hurt? Offense? Only Nina seemed to have the ability to needle Purdue… Or was it simply Sam’s imagination? It was gone in an instant, whatever it was.

“Being in hiding is an expensive business, Nina,” Purdue said, his tone as calm as if they were discussing the weather. “We can hardly expect people to shelter us and ensure our safety at considerable risk to themselves unless we are prepared to offer suitable remuneration. Matteus’ fees alone are substantial. Even without me, the Black Sun has people who are capable of monitoring even the more private of my usual accounts, and without access to those accounts I find that for the first time in many years I am concerned about money. By ensuring that this painting finds its way safely from one pair of hands to another, I ensure that our needs are met for a while longer.”

Nina shook her head in incredulous confusion. “You’re telling me that you’re… what, a fence? A go-between? There wasn’t any legal way to make money?”

“Be fair to the man, Nina,” Sam understood her irritation, but was sure that getting into an argument would do them little good. “If getting legitimate jobs would put you and me at risk of being discovered, the same rules apply for Purdue.”

“I know. We discussed it at length, I haven’t forgotten. But we agreed that we’d all just keep our heads down. Completely. Out of harm’s way, remember? It was meant to stay that way until we were sure everything had blown over. That’s what you said, Dave. It was your suggestion. You said you had plenty of money and that since you’d got us into this, it was only right that you’d make sure we had somewhere to live. And when I said they’d be watching your accounts, you said you had ways round that. And like a bloody idiot, I have allowed myself to be lulled in by your spiel once again. God, by now I should know better!”

Slowly, with a gentleness that was completely at odds with her tone of voice, she rolled the Renoir up and returned it to its protective tube, before she held it out to Purdue. He reached out to take it, and then laid his hands over hers.

“I am sorry, Nina. I should not have misled you. But I must ask you to trust me. I will keep you both safe, I promise, but you must allow me to—”

“Purdue.” Nina’s voice could have sliced through glass. “Stop it. We’re only here because you got us into danger. Don’t insult my intelligence by promising our safety. Whatever you’re going to do, we can’t stop you. We’re living on your good graces, pretty much at your mercy. I’m not listening to you anymore. Just try not to get yourself killed and that way maybe we’ll stand some chance of getting home alive. And until we do, just leave me the fuck alone.”

She got to her feet, pulling her hands from Purdue’s grasp, and a moment later the door to her room slammed shut behind her. Purdue let his head drop and sighed.

“Perhaps you will have a little more faith in me, Sam,” he said.

Sam did not answer. He was not sure what to say — Nina was right, Purdue had put them in danger, and Sam had long thought that the man was too crazy to be responsible for anyone’s safety. Yet at the same time they were still alive, and that was in no small part thanks to Purdue…

“All right,” said Sam. “Look, I’m not going to pretend that I’m fine with all this. But Nina’s right, we don’t have a lot of choice. I’ll trust you. Just… just keep it as low profile as you can, ok? I trust you not to succumb to the temptation to make things interesting, right?”

Purdue smiled. “I understand, Sam. Now would you care for a drink?”