Insatiable Appetites

46

Bruce Willard got home at midday, having completed his cataloging of Elton Hills’s furniture, silver, and art. He left his bag in his apartment, then went down to his shop. His assistant, Pamela West, was at her desk in the little office.

“Everything quiet?”

“A customer in the back. He’s been in a couple of times while you were gone.”

“What’s he looking for?”

“He always says he’s just browsing.”

“I’ll have a word with him.” Bruce walked to the rear of the store and found a man closely inspecting a Georgian silver gravy boat. He was tall, slim, and bald; he turned to look at Bruce and showed a face with narrow eyes and no eyebrows.

“Good morning,” Bruce said, offering his hand. “I’m Bruce Willard. Can I help you with anything?”

The man shook it. “I’m Creed Harker,” he said with a small smile. “I’m just browsing, really.”

“Do you have a particular interest in Georgian silver?”

“I have a particular interest in beautiful things,” Harker said.

“Well, we have a shop full of those. Anything you see interest you?”

“I like the portrait hanging over there by the door,” he said. “It looks vaguely like a Sargent.”

“That’s because it is a Sargent,” Bruce said. “Or, at least, a number of people with knowledge of his work think it is. Of course, a number of people think it isn’t. It’s not signed, and it appears to be an early work, before his style was fully formed. That’s why it’s a bargain.”

“How much of a bargain?”

“Six thousand dollars.”

“Not that much of a bargain.”

“If it’s a Sargent, it’s a screaming bargain.”

“What’s its provenance?”

“Unknown. I bought it in a mixed estate sale. There are times when you have to rely on your own eye.”

“You’re a friend of Evan Hills, aren’t you?”

“I was. Perhaps you haven’t heard that he died two weeks ago.”

“I believe I had heard that.”

“He was killed in New York by a coward in a car, who then fled the scene.”

Harker flushed slightly. “How tragic,” he said.

“More than you know. There’s a large-scale police investigation, though, and they’ve already found the car, a black SUV with a Virginia registration.”

“I see.”

“It was reported stolen, after the fact. What business are you in, Mr. Harker?”

“Private security.”

“Would that be Integral Security of McLean?”

“Oh, you know us?”

“I know that your company owned the SUV in question.”

“Yes, it was stolen out of our parking lot.”

“That doesn’t speak very well for your security, does it?”

Harker’s eyes were darting about now, as if he were looking for an escape route.

“What did you think of the story in last Sunday’s Times about Evan and the meeting he attended?”

“I didn’t read it,” Harker replied.

“Would you like some details? I believe a number of your acquaintances attended the meeting in question.”

“Everyone I know denies being there.”

“Evan took very good notes,” Bruce said, “and he knew all the attendees personally. He also made a recording.”

Harker’s eyes widened slightly. “How interesting.”

“It’s going to get a lot more interesting when all the voices have been identified.”

“Well, if you’ll excuse me...” Harker began to edge toward the door.

“No interest in the putative Sargent?”

“Not at this time,” he said.

“I’m going to see you in prison, Harker,” Bruce said conversationally.

“What?”

“You were driving the SUV, weren’t you?”

“That’s preposterous!”

“It’s highly likely,” Bruce said. “Better odds than the Sargent, even.”

“You’re mad,” Harker said, backing toward the door.

“I’m very mad,” Bruce said, “and don’t you forget it.”

Harker got the door open and walked quickly away.

“What was that all about?” Pamela asked.

“If he comes back in here, tell him to get out.”

“Why?”

“Because I think he’s mixed up in Evan’s death. If I see him again, I might kill him, and although I’d love to do it, I don’t think it’s a very good idea.”

“Oh, you had this message,” she said, handing him a slip of paper. “Elton Hills would like you to call him as soon as possible.”

Bruce went upstairs and called Elton Hills; the phone was picked up on the first ring. “Bruce?”

“Yes, Elton. You called?”

“I had a rather disturbing phone call after you left this morning.”

“From whom?”

“A man called Harker, who said he knew Evan. He said he thought I might need protection, and he runs a security company.”

“He was just in my shop,” Bruce said. “His company owns the vehicle that ran down Evan in New York, and I have a strong feeling that he may have been involved.”

“Good God!”

“Please don’t speak with him again, Elton. I think he’s up to no good.”

“What could he possibly want from me?”

“I don’t think we want to find out,” Bruce said.