Robert Lecter listed the stolen painting as 'View of Santa Maria della Salute,' and I bought this painting as 'View of the Grand Canal.'"
"I have a court order to seize the picture, whatever it's called. I'll give you a receipt for it. Find me this 'Kopnik,' Monsieur Leet, and you could save yourself a lot of unpleasantness."
"Kopnik is dead, Inspector. He was my associate in this firm. We called it Kopnik and Leet. Leet and Kopnik would have had a better ring to it."
"Do you have his records?"
"His attorney might."
"Look for them, Monsieur Leet. Look for them well," Popil said. "I want to know how this painting got from Lecter Castle to Galerie Leet."
"Lecter," Leet said. "Is it the boy who does these drawings?"
"Yes."
"Extraordinary," Leet said.
"Yes, extraordinary," Popil replied. "Wrap the painting for me, please."
Leet appeared at the Quai des Orfevres in two days carrying papers.
Popil arranged for him to be seated in the corridor near the room marked Audition 2, where the noisy interrogation of a rape suspect was under way punctuated by thumps and cries. Popil allowed Leet to marinate in this atmosphere for fifteen minutes before admitting him to the private office.
The art dealer handed over a receipt. It showed Kopnik bought the Guardi from one Emppu Makinen for eight thousand English pounds.
"Do you find this convincing?" Popil asked. "I do not."
Leet cleared his throat and looked at the floor. A full twenty seconds passed.
"The public prosecutor is eager to initiate criminal proceedings against you, Monsieur Leet. He is a Calvinist of the severest stripe, did you know that?"
"The painting was-"
Popil held up his hand, shushing Leet. "For the moment, I want you to forget about your problem. Assume I could intervene for you if I chose.
I want you to help me. I want you to look at this." He handed Leet a sheaf of legal-length onionskin pages close-typed. "This is the list of items the Arts Commission is bringing to Paris from the Munich Collection Point. All stolen art."
"To display at the Jeu de Paume."
"Yes, claimants can view it there. Second page, halfway down. I circled it."
"'The Bridge of Sighs,' Bernardo Bellotto, thirty-six by thirty centimeters, oil on board."
"Do you know this painting?" Popil said.
"I have heard of it, of course."
"If it is genuine, it was taken from Lecter Castle. You know it is famously paired with another painting of the Bridge of Sighs."
"By Canaletto, yes, painted the same day."
"Also taken from Lecter Castle, probably stolen at the same time by the same person," Popil said. "How much more money would you make selling the pair together than if you sold them separately?"
"Four times. No rational person would separate them."
"Then they were separated through ignorance or by accident. Two paintings of the Bridge of Sighs. If the person who stole them still has one of them, wouldn't he want to get the other back?" Popil said.
"Very much."
"There will be publicity about this painting when it hangs in the Jeu de Paume. You are going to the display with me and we will see who comes sniffing around it."
Chapter 30-31
30
LADY MURASAKI'S invitation got her into the Jeu de Paume Museum ahead of the big crowd that buzzed in the Tuileries, impatient to see more than five hundred stolen artworks brought from the Munich Collection Point by the Allied Commission on Monuments, Fine Arts, and Archives in an attempt to find their rightful owners.
A few of the pieces were making their third trip between France and Germany, having been stolen first by Napoleon in Germany and brought back to France, then stolen by the Germans and taken home, then brought back to France once more by the Allies.
Lady Murasaki found in the ground floor of the Jeu de Paume an amazing jumble of Western images. Bloody religion pictures filled one end of the hall, a meathouse of hanging Christs.
For relief she turned to the "Meat Lunch," a cheerful painting of a sumptuous buffet, unattended except for a springer spaniel who was about to help herself to the ham. Beyond it were big canvases attributed to " School of Rubens," featuring rosy women of vast acreage surrounded by plump babies with wings.
And that is where Inspector Popil first caught sight of Lady Murasaki in her counterfeit Chanel, slender and elegant against the pink nudes of Rubens.
Popil soon spotted Hannibal coming up the stairs from the floor below.
The inspector did not show himself, but watched.
Ah, now they see each other, the beautiful Japanese lady and her ward.
Popil was interested