Send in the Clowns Ch. 03

This story is part of an ongoing series. The chronological order of my stories is listed in WifeWatchman's biography.

Feedback and constructive criticism is very much appreciated, and I encourage feedback for ideas.

This story contains graphic scenes, language and actions that might be extremely offensive to some people. These scenes, words and actions are used only for the literary purposes of this story. The author does not condone murder, racism, racial language, violence, rape or violence against women, and any depictions of any of these in this story should not be construed as acceptance of the above.

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Part 12 - Doubly Deceived (continued)

Carrying the painting, the woman headed to the front doors of the Museum.

"Thank you."

As the painting was taken out of the woman's hands, she whirled to face her antagonist, and found herself looking up into the gray eyes... of Your Iron Crowbar.

*WHAM!*

The woman found herself taken down hard, and her arm twisted behind her. She had had no chance to use her considerable martial arts talents; after all, she just been taken down by a two-time Police Boxing Matches Champion with a very bad attitude.

"Somebody come put some cuffs on this bitch!" Teresa Croyle yelled. "I am not letting her go!" Other TCPD Officers rushed into the lobby from the Conference Room. They quickly affixed handcuffs to the woman. Teresa reached up and took the woman's mask off as an Officer bagged the woman's autopistol.

"Ah, so it is you." I said to Beth Morris, the woman that had been the mobile server at the event. "Yezzz... I may be clumsy, and I may be stupid. But you are under arrest." I turned to Teresa and said "Read her her considerable rights." Teresa did so as Julia recorded it on video.

Other Officers had gone into the Gift Shop and released the Curator and Dr. Nadler. "Thank God you're here!" Dr. Nadler said. "And you recovered the Greuze? Wonderful!"

"Oh, you might not think I'm so wonderful after I say this." I said. "Lieutenant Davis, place Dr. Nadler under arrest!"

"What?!" Dr. Nadler gasped out as Jerome Davis came up and pulled Nadler's hands behind his back. "What is this about?"

"I'm so sorry, Dr. Nadler," I said, "but I cannot allow you and your fellow thief here to continue to believe that I am an Agency of the Weak Minded. Take them to Headquarters, guys. Full booking. And watch out for her; she's very well trained in the martial arts, and she will literally kill you if she can."

After the perps were removed, I got on the radio and said "Bring them in." A moment later, Claire Michaels came in with two men and a woman.

"Everyone," I said, "this is Dr. Tyler Alsteens, one of the company Christie's art experts; Dr. Lamar Dodd, who holds the Rembrandt Chair of Art at the University's School of Art; and Dr. Nicole Haven of the University's Art School, who is also a world-recognized art expert. Would y'all please examine this painting to determine its authenticity? And let's get this on video, as evidence in my case against Dr. Nadler."

Dr. Tyler Alsteens was tall, with sparse hair, a barely-kept mustache and goatee, and spectacles. He reminded me in the face of the national Fox Cable's Sebastian Gorka. Dr. Lamar Dodd was heavyset, with a shaved-bald head and a goatee that reminded me of the former Minnesota Governor Jesse Ventura. Dr. Nicole Haven was short, 'squat' (but not fat), and her dark brown hair was styled in Carole's current fashion of straight bangs.

The Curator and two Police Officers had gone and gotten the easel that the Greuze and then the clown painting had been on. The Curator then went and got the blue-tagged painting from the Gift Shop. After it was examined, the red-tagged painting I'd been holding was examined at length by Dr. Alsteens and Dr. Haven.

"This blue-tagged one is computer CNC generated." said Dr. Alsteens. "You can tell because there are no real brush strokes. It's like it's sprayed on."

"Like a silk-screened shirt?" I asked.

"Yes, that's good analogy." said Dr. Nicole Haven. "As to this red-tagged painting, the brush strokes are in the Greuze style, but the paints appear to be of the era of the early 20th Century. Many paintings in Europe in the 1930s were of these particular and fairly unique pigments."

"But it's not a Greuze?" asked the Curator, whose voice sounded like a balloon whose air was leaking out. His face was beginning to sag with disappointment, also.

"I'm afraid not, sir." said Dr. Haven. "It's a very good quality painting; I wish we knew who the real artist was, and if he had other works. But no, it's not a Greuze."

"Then... then the lost Greuze does not even exist." said Dr. Dodd sadly.

"That appears to be the case." said the Curator as he examined the 'Greuze' with a device of his own, which began beeping when it was placed near one corner of the painting. "We put a tiny microchip inside the frame, and I didn't even scan the paintings in the Gift Shop because Dr. Nadler said they weren't the real Greuze. As you can hear, the chip is there. This is the painting from Ruth Baker's home."

The strength of the gloom his words created was palpable. And then people named 'Iron Wolf' noticed that people named 'Iron Crowbar' was in a reverie. "Don?" Teresa asked, snapping me out of it.

"Wait." I said. All eyes turned to me. I said "Dr. Haven, you said this work of art was very likely painted in the 1930s?"

"Yes, Commander." said Dr. Haven. "Do you agree, Dr. Alsteens."

"Yes, I fully agree with that." said Dr. Alsteens.

"Good!" I said with a smile. "Then I'm happy to tell you that it is possible that the Lost Greuze does exist. I can't say any more at this moment, and we Police have criminals to process. I'll test my hypothesis in the morning, and let you know. For now, I appreciate you being here at this hour to help us authenticate the paintings. Let's go get some sleep..."

Part 13 - Issues And Answers

8:00am, Sunday, March 21st. Edward N. Parker showed up as Dr. Nadler's attorney. Teresa had pulled rank to accompany me into Interrogation-2. Sergeant Hicks had pulled a little rank himself to be the Uniformed Presence.

We sat down opposite the suspect and his legal representation, and I read Dr. Nadler his rights from the card.

"What the hell is this?" Nadler exploded when I asked if he understood the rights. "Why the hell did you arrest me? ME! I was tied up at gunpoint by the thief! I was the victim! What, did you arrest the Curator for being tied up, too?"

"It won't do, Dr. Nadler." I said. "We are long past the point where you can bluff your way into convincing me you are telling the truth."

His attorney was struggling to get him to calm down and, more importantly. to shut up. After doing so, Parker said "He does raise a valid point, Commander. He was the victim of the crime, not part of it."

I said to Teresa: "They think we are stoo-pid." Teresa nodded in agreement, her eyes connoting her anger as I turned to Nadler and said "No, Dr. Nadler, that was part of the ruse, a ruse to make you look innocent while the thief got away with the painting, and us none the wiser about the truth. And it's as transparent as saran wrap. Hell, I wish the Government would be as transparent."

"With what are you charging my client?" Parker asked sullenly.

"Conspiracy to commit fraud." I said. "Conspiracy to commit theft by taking, theft by deception, and lying to Police."

"And how are you going to make those specious charges stick?" Parker asked. "Especially the 'lying to Police' charge?"

"Commander," I said to Teresa, "what are my four favorite words?"

"Besides 'you are under arrest'?" Teresa replied. "Uh, 'let's watch some TV', maybe?"

"Yes indeed!" I said with great joviality. "Let's watch some TV." I clicked the remote and an image came up on the monitor screen. "Here you are, Dr. Nadler, authenticating the Greuze after it was brought out from its vault in the side room. At that time, you said it was the real 'Lost Greuze'."

The picture changed to an evidence video of Dr. Nadler in the Gift Shop. "I asked you to examine the Greuze, and I note it's the one with the red 'SOLD' tag. You were being recorded on Police video. You said it wasn't real, but a replica. That's a direct contradiction to what you'd said earlier. And if it were the real Greuze, you lied to Police when you said it wasn't, since I'm the one that asked you to verify it."

The video then changed to the previous wee morning hours in the Gift Shop. I said "We anticipated that the Greuze would be recovered and an attempt made to spirit it out of the Museum... where it had to be, since it wasn't removed from the Museum. We have you here telling the Curator that it's the real-deal Greuze."

I continued: "Not only have you contradicted yourself, Dr. Nadler, but every time you did it was with the purposeful intent to deceive."

I opened a file folder that I'd brought in. "We obtained a warrant to look into your finances." I said. "And one of the items is a nice little $50,000 payment, which you told the bank was a work bonus. That's true in one sense, and since you work with the Smithsonian, no one questioned that it was a Government check... but the work you were doing was not legitimate work for the Smithsonian, was it? Noooo, it was for other work you were doing... making a scheme work. And that scheme was to steal a painting potentially worth over a million dollars."

"Pure fantasy." said Edward N. Parker. "Almost as bad as that imaginary document you claimed Matt Willis had." (Author's note: 'Price No Object', Ch. 04-05.)

"We shall see." I said. "The facts are that your client was the linchpin of this whole operation. He first verified the Greuze as real, which generated interest in it, and made it a target for enterprising thieves. Then your client... not another, independent expert, but your client... was called in to re-verify it in front of all those people bidding on its auction."

Your Iron Crowbar: "And then, after it was made to 'disappear', your client had to cover its hiding place in the Gift Shop by declaring that it was not the authentic Greuze, but a replica. He did so, and it was left there, under lock and key and guarded by Police as part of a crime scene. Not bad, getting us to guard it for you like that, Dr. Nadler."

I said "And then you, Dr. Nadler, and your confederate, the woman that brought the painting from its easel to the Gift Shop, had to stage the theft in a way that kept you in the clear. And so you had the Curator let you in at ungodly hours of the morning, you verified that it was real, and you were (air quotes) 'ambushed' by the thief, who tied you up along with the Curator. Quite frankly, sir, you are very lucky. She could've just shot you dead, which really would've covered her tracks much, much better."

"Which is a point for my client." said Edward N. Parker. "If he's part of a conspiracy, why leave him alive and risk him telling all?"

"Because if he were dead, he would not have been able to continue to assert that the now-really-stolen Greuze was real." I replied. "And it was worth the next $50,000 they were going to pay him to keep up the story, until they could ransom the Greuze, or sell it on the black market."

Nadler said "I need three minutes alone with my attorney." We gave him the time...

* * * * * * * * * * * * * *

It was nearer ten minutes when we went back in. The lawyer Parker said "My client informs me that as the thief was holding him at gunpoint, she said she sprayed the Greuze with a chemical that would cause him to misread his UV analysis, and thus say it wasn't real. So he was deceived, and therefore did not intentionally deceive anyone nor deliberately lie to Police."

I said "Commander, what are my next favorite five words?"

Teresa said "Uh, 'good enough for Government work'?"

"Close." I said, inwardly amused at Teresa's understated and underrated sense of humor. "How about 'let's watch some more TV'."

As I started the composite video again, I said "After you were arrested and taken out of the Museum, Dr. Nadler, I had two... not one but two art experts come in and look at the painting. They agreed that the same painting you called the real Greuze is not the real 'Lost Greuze', and isn't a CNC-machined replica, but an artwork from the early 20th Century."

I leaned forward and bored into Nadler as I said "Now there can only be two explanations here, Doctor. The first is that you knew the Greuze wasn't real, and you lied about it being real... and the fraud charges will stick like napalm to your skin. The other explanation is the one I happen to believe is true: you really did believe the Greuze was real."

I said "Dr. Nadler, you wouldn't know a real Greuze if it slapped you in the face and called you 'mama'. And the painting is a good forgery, a very, very good one. It fooled some of Adolph Hitler's very best artwork experts, too. But it is not a real Greuze."

Nadler looked absolutely shocked at my words that the Greuze had not been real. Either he is a damn good actor, I thought to myself, or he really didn't know it was a forgery. I pressed on.

"So either way, Doctor, you are toast." I said. "Either way, you were lying, and you were paid well to propagate the fraud. The good news is that you have a chance to come correct, to tell us where that $50k came from, who paid it to you, and who is behind this entire operation. You tell the truth, you name names, and you'll get some kind of deal in return. And Witness Protection. Otherwise, the only art you're going to be seeing for the rest of your life is the graffiti on the walls of the prison they send you to. "

Edward N. Parker said "Invoke, let me arrange your bail, and we'll go from there." Dr. Nadler invoked...

* * * * * * * * * * * * * *

"He's not going to get bail." Teresa said. "He's a huge flight risk, and they don't have Judge Nance to run to, anymore."

"True." I said. "But there's two things they may do. One is that the Feds will try to gain custody of him, and spirit him out of our State. And the second thing is to have ADA Savannah Fineman drop the charges or ask for low bail, and then we're back to spiriting him out of the State. Okay, let's talk to Mystery Woman in I-1..."

As I looked into the anteroom of I-1, I saw the woman we'd arrested talking to her attorney... Nathan Masterson.

"Well, Julia," I said cheerfully to Detective Rodriguez, who'd come into the anteroom, "you were right about the Jew Hater's earlier absence. He's here now."

"And you, sir, were right about him being held in reserve for the big one." Julia replied.

I said "It's very likely he's going to have her invoke immediately. But maybe I can keep her from doing that immediately, if we play our cards right. Teresa, you come in with me, but don't say anything while I play word ping-pong with Jew Hater, there."

"Yes sir." said Teresa. She went through the door into the interrogation room, and I followed, carrying a file folder containing a small sheaf of papers. I'd asked Detective Joan Laurer to report for duty wearing a TCPD uniform, and be the Uniformed Presence in the room, as she was the current Police Boxing Matches Champion and well versed in techniques of personal combat.

"Well, if it ain't the TCPD's Bar Code." Nathan Masterson said as Teresa and I sat down at the table opposite them. "But that's appropriate. That batty old kike got her painting stolen out from under your nose."

I didn't even bother to respond to Masterson's racist insults. Instead I said "I'm going to read your client Diane Langdon her rights."

"Her name is Beth Morris." said Masterson, but looking shaken up. The woman looked openly shocked.

"Oh, I cannot allow your client to think that I'm an Agency of the Weak Minded." I replied. "We are completely aware that we are sitting in the presence of CIA Officer Diane Langdon. But first things first." I read the woman her rights from the card. She said nothing, just stared malevolently at me... but did not yet invoke.

"You've fallen again, and hit your head." said Masterson. He turned to the woman and said "You need to go ahead and invoke."

"You have that right," I replied, "but that only means I can't ask you any more questions. You will still have to sit here and listen to me show you the overwhelming evidence we have against you."

"Before I do invoke," the woman said, "how can a local cop know who I really am? For you to even know that about me violates a ton of Federal laws. My identity is classified at the highest levels."

"So is my aunt's." I replied. "But in your case, we local cops on the beat have... resources. Here's mine." I pointed at the door to the anteroom. It opened and my wife Dr. Laura Fredricson, retired former Deputy Director of the CIA Directorate for Science and Technology, walked into the room.

The look on the woman's face was priceless: the open shock of recognition. The look on Masterson's face was even more priceless: openly unappeasable hatred.

"You outed me? You gave me up?" the woman said to Laura, her voice bitter and accusing.

"And I've had you 'disavowed'." Laura replied. "The Company did not authorize you to participate in any domestic missions, nor be a part of the plot to steal the Greuze. Your career is over, Diane, and you're going to prison for a long, long time. The only thing you can do to redeem yourself is to cooperate with Commander Troy and tell him everything that is going on."

"Like hell." the woman said. She turned to me and said "I am invoking my Fifth Amendment right to silence, and will answer none of your questions."

"That means you get to shut your fucking mouth, Kike." Nathan Masterson said.

"Oh, I won't abuse your client's rights by asking her any questions." I said. "But I can... and will... advise her to think about her future. And by the way, Diane, that Uniformed Officer is well-versed in the martial arts and a Boxing Champion, and this lady sitting here next to me is also a Boxing Champion with a bad attitude. If you think you can make a run for it, you'll learn the hard way just how bad things can be for you. Okay, Commander, let's go."

As Teresa and I got up and followed Laura out the door, I smiled to myself. I had seen Diane Langdon evaluating her chances of overpowering Joan Laurer and making a run for it. I actually hoped she'd try...

* * * * * * * * * * * * * *

When we came out of I-1, Lt. Jerome Davis came up to me in the hallway and told me the Chief wanted to see me in the Main Conference Room. I knew what that meant, and had Teresa come with me... and indeed, when we entered the Main Conference Room we found FBI SAC Jack Muscone and EAD Owen Lange. And Lange's face clearly showed he was 'not amused'.

As Teresa and I went around to the far side of the table to sit down, Owen Lange said sarcastically "Sooooo, when were you going to tell us you'd made those arrests?"

"I wasn't aware that I was obligated to inform you of any arrests the TCPD makes." I very acidly replied. I did not sit down, but remained standing, staring daggers at Lange, who was staring right back at me.

"Come on, Don." said Jack Muscone. "We're on the same team, here. And what happened last night was a very big deal."

"It's not a Federal case." I replied.

"Getting George Aurus is." said Owen Lange.

"And there it is." I said, looking at Teresa. "The excuse to butt in, the false flag. George Aurus."

"Ohhh geeezzzz." muttered Chief Moynahan.

"You don't think getting a serial killer back in prison is important?" Lange asked accusingly.

"GEORGE AURUS DOES NOT HAVE A GOD DAMN THING TO DO WITH THIS CASE!" I yelled, any modicum of restrain in me totally broken. "Why in the FUCK do you people keep harping on it?"