Last Breath Page 8

  “You’re probably right.”

  “There’s no sign of a breakin anywhere around the building, and as you just pointed out, who else would have known what was here?”

  “Louise said the building was boarded up until recently, so the thefts probably would have taken place before the building was sealed,” she said thoughtfully. “Not much chance of catching the thief, then, is there?”

  “Probably not, if that’s the case. But I’m sure NSAF-that’s the unit within the FBI that handles stolen art-will know the best way to track down the artifacts.”

  “I need to think about this.”

  “What’s to think about? We have experts who handle exactly this type of case.”

  “Here’s the thing. Generally speaking, there are only two places where the artifacts could be. In private collections, or in museums or galleries.”

  “So? The art guys will know where to look.”

  “But they’re the FBI.”

  “And that’s a bad thing because…?”

  “It’s bad because it will give the appearance that the collector, or the museum that acquired the piece, has done so illegally, and that is not necessarily the case,” Daria told him. “It may be that the owners have no idea that the items were stolen. They may have purchased from a dealer who believed he was buying from a legitimate source.”

  “Or from someone who knew it was stolen and didn’t particularly care.”

  “But if the artifacts are now in the hands of legitimate collectors, they could face tremendous embarrassment. There’d be a huge scandal. Keep in mind that if they purchased the items in good faith, they are victims, too.” Daria shook her head. “I’d rather see if I can trace the items myself before we sic the FBI on them.”

  “How would you go about doing that?”

  “I’d start on the Internet. I’d search the museum websites-many of them contain photographs of their collections and include the provenance. I’d also search for collectors. They often catalog their pieces and offer them on loan to galleries and museums.” She smiled weakly. “Same way, I suspect, that your ‘art guys’ would begin.”

  “Let’s assume you’re successful in tracking down even a few of the pieces. Then what?”

  “Then I contact the owner and explain the situation and give them an opportunity to return the items to Howe.”

  “Why would they be willing to do that on your say-so?”

  “I have my grandfather’s journals to back me up. They are very specific as to where and when certain pieces were found. He also indicated that many of the pieces were photographed in situ before they were touched. I’ll get those from Louise. And we do have his inventories. I think we have enough to establish that the artifacts were discovered by Alistair McGowan on behalf of Howe University. It’s a start, anyway. Keep in mind that most museums and private collectors try very hard to avoid scandals of this nature. It’s very damaging to their reputations, not to mention the integrity of their other acquisitions. This sort of thing casts a very long and very dark shadow on everyone connected, from the dealer to the buyer to the curator. It’s definitely to be avoided at all costs.”

  “And if you fail to convince them, and they refuse to hand over the artifacts?”

  “Then we call in your art guys, and we let them fight it out.”

  6

  “S o, what you’re saying is we need a game plan.” Louise’s fingers tapped impatiently on the arm of the sofa. On their way back across campus from the museum, Daria and Connor stopped at the president’s house to discuss their findings with her.

  “Right. I’ve given this a lot of thought over the past few days,” Daria told her. “And after talking with Connor this afternoon, I do have a proposal.”

  “Let’s hear it.” Louise sat back against the cushions and waited.

  “If the university is serious about reopening the museum by the fall of next year, they have to raise the capital now, and quickly. I think what you need to do is have the entire collection properly appraised by an art historian who is capable of putting dollar valuations on the artifacts.”

  “I thought you could do that.” Louise frowned.

  “I thought perhaps I could help you in that regard,” Daria admitted, “but after seeing what’s here, I’ve come to the conclusion that you need someone who is an expert in appraising large collections. I’m an archaeologist, Louise. I can tell you the cultural value of every piece in those crates, but I don’t feel comfortable putting dollar signs on them. Is it enough to know that the collection is priceless?” She shrugged. “Would a bank find that sufficient documentation for a loan the size of what you’re going to need to put that building into shape? I really doubt it.”

  Louise appeared to think it over.

  “Can you recommend someone?” She asked.

  “Off the top of my head, no.”

  “I have an idea,” Connor spoke up. “You know that you’re going to have to have this entire setup insured, the building as well as the artifacts. Why not contact your insurance agent, tell them you want coverage for the museum and ask them to send an appraiser to put a number on the collection as well as the building?”

  “You think they have people on staff who do that?”

  “I’m sure they have someone who can appraise the building, and as far as the contents are concerned, I think they’ll find someone real fast. They’re going to want the business, because the premium will be huge, but they’re going to make certain that the amount of insurance is adequate so if there is a loss, they don’t get raked.” He rubbed his chin thoughtfully for a moment, then added, “I’ll bet they even have someone in their risk management department who can tell you exactly what you need to do as far as the renovations are concerned to best safeguard the collections. I have a cousin who works in this field and he spends a lot of his time inspecting buildings and working with the security firms.”

  “Connor’s got a really good point,” Daria said. “And chances are, the bank is going to want to bring in an appraiser of their own, if you’re going to use the collection as collateral for the loan.”

  “I can call our insurance agent and see what she suggests,” Louise said thoughtfully. “I suppose it would save us considerably over hiring an independent appraiser. Plus, if they can send someone out to tell us exactly what to do in the building…”

  “Be prepared to move the collection in the interim, though,” Connor cautioned. “The bank may want to place it in one of their vaults until security has been brought up to date. I’m sure the insurance company will require specific improvements to the system-such as it is-that’s in place now.”

  “All of which means you need to get to the bank as soon as possible,” Daria told Louise.

  “I’ll put a call in to the vice president of our local branch first thing in the morning and see when he can meet with me,” Louise said. “Maybe take a few of the flashier objects with me to give him an idea of what we’re talking about here, see if we can get them to establish a line of credit for us so that we can start the improvements to the building as soon as possible.”

  “I’d do that first thing,” Connor said. “In the meantime, I’m going to see what I can do about tracking down the missing artifacts.”

  “We’re going to track the missing artifacts,” Daria corrected him.

  “I was hoping you’d come with me to the bank, Daria,” Louise said. “I’m really not qualified to explain what we have here and why it’s so valuable. I think it would have greater impact coming from someone with your credentials.”

  “Just let me know when.”

  “I’ll call Jim Sanders, the bank VP we usually deal with, and see when he’s available. This sort of thing may be out of his field of operations, but we’ll start with him.”

  “Don’t forget your insurance people,” Daria reminded her.

  “Alice Radell.” Louise smiled. “Best agent in the state. I have a meeting with one of our department heads at eight tomorrow morn
ing, but as soon as that’s over, I’ll start making my calls.”

  “While you’re doing that, I’ll get started on the search for the missing artifacts. I’ll have my cell on, so just give me a call when you’re ready to go.” Daria stood.

  “Thank you.” Louise smiled. “I have to admit, I feel a little better, having a plan. I’ve been worried sick about this since learning about the missing items, and worried, too, about protecting what we have.”

  “Hopefully, we’ll be able to find some of those items,” Connor said as he rose from his chair.

  “Well, Daria, you’ll be pleased to know that help is on the way.” Louise turned to her. “I spoke with Sabina Bokhari about an hour ago. She was shocked when I told her what was going on. She insisted on cutting her trip short, and will be here by Tuesday at the latest.”

  “Great. She’ll be an enormous help. But I thought she was on a dig with some students.”

  “She is, but she isn’t the only archaeologist on the site. She said she feels very comfortable leaving the dig in the hands of the other two. A Dr. Henning and someone else whose name I don’t recall.”

  “Emmitt Henning, yes. I know him well. I wouldn’t hesitate to leave my work in his hands, either. And I’m very much looking forward to meeting Sabina.”

  Turning to Connor, Louise asked, “Have you decided to bring in the FBI’s art people?”

  “Not yet,” Daria replied before Connor could. “We will if we have to, but if Connor and I can handle this on our own, I think it would be better for everyone. I’m fairly confident that we can, at least for the time being.”

  Daria explained to Louise how even the hint of having purchased stolen antiquities could ruin the reputations of collectors as well as museums, not to mention tarnishing the reputation of the university.

  “Well, if we can guarantee the return of whatever items you might be able to find without causing undue embarrassment to the owners, I’d certainly go along with that. Of course, if you’re unable to locate any of the missing pieces, I expect we’ll have to turn this over to the FBI.”

  “That’s the plan,” Daria assured her.

  “How long do you suppose before you’ll know if you’ll be successful?”

  “A few days, maybe. I expect to find some of the information we need on the Internet. It’s either there or it isn’t. In which case, Connor will call in his people.”

  “Go to it, then,” Louise told her. “Daria, does this mean you’ve accepted our offer to reopen the museum?”

  “First things first, Louise,” Daria said from the doorway. “Without a commitment from the bank, there won’t be a museum. Get your funding, and then we’ll talk.”

  “But you’re going to do it, aren’t you?” Connor asked as they walked back to McGowan House.

  “I don’t want to get anyone’s hopes up, mine included. If they can’t renovate that building, and do it quickly…if they can’t guarantee the security of the collection…” Daria shrugged. “It all depends on whether or not Louise can convince the bank to give the university a very large loan. I can’t even begin to estimate what it would cost to do everything that has to be done to the museum. They’ll need all new systems-new electric, new plumbing. Air-conditioning and a new heating system. You name it, that building needs it.”

  “It looks pretty good, though, considering its age. I guess boarding it up for a while preserved it somewhat,” Connor noted. “I’ll be interested to see what the insurance company recommends.”

  “That was a good suggestion, by the way,” Daria said as they approached her temporary home. “Getting the insurance company to prepare the appraisal and assess the building. And since the bank will probably want its own expert to come in, that will give the university two appraisals. Hopefully, the two experts will agree.”

  She unlocked the front door.

  “But, as Louise noted, at least we have a game plan.” She pushed open the door. “Come on in. I’m sorry it’s so hot and stuffy in here. There’s no air-conditioning and only one fan in the house, and I put that in my bedroom last night so I could sleep. I tried to open the windows downstairs but haven’t been able to get them to move.”

  They stepped into the quiet house.

  “Maybe I can budge them,” Connor offered. “Which ones would you want opened?”

  “The ones in the kitchen, for starters, since I’ve been working in there at night.” She gestured toward the hall that stretched out in front of them. “It’s back here.”

  “This is some house,” he said, looking around.

  “Isn’t it? Benjamin Howe built it as a wedding present for his daughter, Iliana, when she married my great-grandfather,” Daria explained. “She was his only child, and I guess he wanted to guarantee that she stayed close.”

  “So I guess Pop wasn’t disappointed when Iliana fell in love with one of his hires.”

  “Not at all. According to her journal, he was pretty damned pleased with her choice of husband. It worked out well for her, I suppose, in the long run. Alistair was quite a bit older than she, and he died when their children were still young, but at least they had a roof over their heads. Since her mother died when Iliana was a young girl, she served as her father’s official hostess here at the university. She stayed until her death, actually, in the late 1930s. She died in this house.” Daria smiled. “Louise says that some who’ve stayed here claim she’s still around.”

  “No sightings?”

  She shook her head and grinned. “Of course, I’ve only spent a few nights here, but no. Nothing’s gone bump in the night, not even a knocking pipe to wake me. Of course, I sleep like the dead myself, so anything could be going on around me and I’d probably miss it.”

  She placed her bag on the table. “I’m going to run upstairs for my laptop. We should probably set it up in the library, if we’re going to get on the Internet. They have wireless access there. Feel free to wander if you want.”

  She found him in one of the front parlors when she came back downstairs.

  “I was admiring the tiles around this fireplace,” he said when she came into the room.

  “Mercer tile,” she told him. “There are different tiles surrounding each of the fireplaces in the house. Whoever chose them had great taste.”

  “I agree.” He straightened up. “Ready?”

  “Yes.” She turned a lamp on in the front window. “Just in case it’s dark later.”

  “I’d like to stop at my car and pick up my own laptop,” he told her as she locked the front door behind them.

  “Because two heads are better than one?”

  “That, and because I may be able to gain access to areas you might not.”

  “You have super-duper FBI powers?”

  “Something like that.” He fell in step alongside her. “And if we really need to call in the cavalry, I have a friend at the Bureau who has extraordinary computer skills. He can get into just about any place.”

  “How?”

  “If he told me…”

  She laughed. “Yeah, yeah, he’d have to kill you.”

  “That’s what he tells me, so I don’t ask. I just let Will do his thing.” They’d reached the parking lot, and Connor unlocked his trunk. He opened it, took out a black leather case, and slammed the trunk lid closed.

  “The library’s just over on this side of campus,” she told him. “It’s not far.”

  “I’m not in a hurry. Besides, I like the company.”

  She couldn’t think of a response, so she let it go.

  They went into the library, which on a hot Sunday evening was deserted except for the lone librarian at the front desk. Not bothering with the pretense of a welcoming smile, she glanced pointedly at the clock above the door-no doubt noting the late hour-before gesturing in the direction of the cubicles where Internet access was available.

  Connor and Daria took seats next to each other, then booted up.

  “What’s the procedure?” he asked.

  “
First, we go to our favorite search engine.” Daria typed in an address and Connor did the same. She glanced at his screen. They’d chosen the same one. “Next, we type in…oh, let’s try ‘artifacts from Shandihar’ and see what comes up.”

  The screen filled with a long list of choices.

  “Look here, see the second entry?” Daria leaned over and pointed at his screen. “It’s a link to a newspaper article from Westport, Connecticut.” She clicked on the link on her computer. “Justin and Cloris Porter. Collectors of antiquities.”

  She began to skim the article.

  “Here you go, third paragraph. ‘Their collection contains a very rare ceremonial goblet from the lost city of Shandihar, an ancient settlement in what is now Turkey that was excavated in the early 1900s and later lost again when an earthquake struck the region.’”

  Daria took a notepad and pen from her bag and wrote down the names and location of the item.

  “See? Not so difficult,” she told Connor cheerfully. “We don’t need an FBI team to do this. We’ll go through all these links, then we’ll start on the museums.”

  “Don’t get overly confident,” he cautioned. “Maybe you just got lucky.”

  “And got lucky again.” She tapped him on the arm and pointed to her screen. “It appears that Damian Cross from Centerville, Delaware, is the proud owner of a statue of the goddess Ereshkigal.” She glanced over at Connor. “ Centerville is really close, maybe a forty-five-minute drive. We could go…or should we try to get a number and call first?”

  “I think we should just drop in on him. For one thing, if you call, maybe he doesn’t like what he’s hearing, he hangs up. If you cold-call, once you get your foot in the door, he’s likely to hear you out.”

  “Okay, so let’s go.” Daria began to stand.

  “Let’s finish up first. I know you’re eager to get going, but let’s get all the info we can now, then we’ll start tracking people down.”