Luckily, I forged the signature so it was indistinguishable from the original. James let out a sigh of relief. A grifter and a forger. Apparently I was more of a con-artist than I thought. When Michael Silvermiller’s car pulled into the parking lot, I stepped out carrying the brown paper wrapped painting tightly in my arms.
To be honest, I was really nervous that we weren’t going to be able to pull this off. But nonetheless, I smiled my most confident smile when I saw him. He returned it with an almost sincere one of his own. Almost. But not quite. I kind of got the feeling that he knew something was up. I quickly shook that feeling off as we walked inside and sat down at a secluded table in the back. Silvermiller kissed my hand as a greeting. It was a standard trust act. I had learned about it when I was taking a couple of psychology classes.
“Well Madame Duchess, may I see this painting of yours?” I nodded and reached across the table to hand him the painting. He carefully unwrapped its covering and gasped. “You found a long lost Van Gogh! However did you manage it?”
“It was a family heirloom from my father. He died about a month ago,” I said, repeating the well-rehearsed story James had had me memorise. “I would like to sell it because it has too many memories connected with it.”
Silvermiller tried to feign interest, but I could see the excited expression on his face. “I’m prepared to give you 20 million for it.”
I knew that Van Gogh’s were worth at least 39 million, but I didn’t let my knowledge show. “I’ll have to discuss it with my advisor.”
“Where are they00?”
“He’s sitting in my car. I’ll just be a second.”
Silvermiller nodded. I strode out of the restaurant and back to the black SUV where James was sitting. I spoke with him through the window. “He says he’ll give us 20 million.”
James frowned, shook his head slowly, and declared, “That’s not nearly enough.”
“How much do we need?”
“About 35 million.”
I gasped in awe. That was just WAY too much money to steal.
James quickly came up with a new plan. “I mapped out his gallery and Silvermiller has at least forty million in cash in the vault in his office.” Once I knew that information, James told me the new and improved plan. I fast walked back inside the building a few minutes later and smiled at Silvermiller who had remained at our seats.
He flashed me a grin and quipped, “Well? What do you say? And will you be my guest of honour at tonight’s gallery event?”
“It’s a deal for both.”
He nodded excitedly. We both stood up to leave and Silvermiller bowed to me and we exited Athena’s. We went our separate ways. When Michael Silvermiller’s car had pulled out completely, I broke out in a run back to our car. Don’t ask me how I ran in heels when I couldn’t an hour ago, because I don’t know.
“So. James, tell me one more time what the plan is.”
Chapter 4
“We’re going to his art gallery tonight, at the big event he hosts for all the council members and you’re going to be his guest of honour. While you keep him busy, I will be upstairs looking for his vault. Once I find it, you’re going to keep him distracted by unveiling the “Lost Van Gogh”, while I get the money we need downstairs and out the door. Then we’ll both leave and go out for ice-cream and Netflix.”
I laughed. I was beginning to like this James guy. We spent the rest of the day arguing about ice cream flavours, listening to music in the SUV, and just having fun. It was actually really cool. Later that night, at about 7 (the event didn’t start until 9), we were sitting on the hood of the car looking at the stars.
“So James. Tell me about your life before this.”
“Uh uh, my sapphire. I don’t do backstories. But I must admit, I’m a little curious about yours.”
I let out a long sigh. “Where to begin. Okay. I grew up in Orlando, Florida. I finished college when I was 16.”
“How?”
“I took a lot of courses over the summer and stuff so I could get done with school as fast as possible.”
James nodded, interested. “What did you major in?”
“I was trained to be a homicide detective, so I toured Greece while looking for a job. I couldn’t find a jo-“
James interrupted, “Do you know a lot of languages?”
I glared while saying, “I know seven different languages. German, Greek, English, Spanish, Arabic, French, and Italian. Now, stop interrupting. I thought you wanted to hear about my life?”
James grinned sheepishly.
I laughed and continued, “As I was saying, I couldn’t find a job, so I started this grifting thing trying to help people. I got some money doing that so I figured I must not be too bad at acting. I went to acting school and found a small time gig as the lead in some musical. I guessed I could sing too. I was away on holiday when you came into the picture.”
“What about your parents?”
“My mum died when I was little and my dad was abusive.”
“Oh.” James fell silent for a minute and then inquired, “How old are you?”
“Nineteen. You?”
“Twenty on January first.” James looked hopeful. “Will you sing for me?”
I blushed and responded, “I don’t know. I’m not that great.”
“Oh come on my sapphire. I won’t judge,” he said, now grinning.
“What do you want me to sing?”
James shrugged.
I took a deep breath and began to sing Hushabye Mountain from Chitty Chitty Bang Bang. I grew more confident and relaxed as the song went on, and James listened with rapt attention. When I finished I buried my face in my hands, too embarrassed to look at James. I was always told to shut up by my dad when I started singing, so I wasn’t used to positive feedback. I certainly wasn’t used to what James did next.
He gently lifted my chin so I was looking at him and said softly, “That was beautiful.” He looked into my eyes for a few more moments and then pulled his hand back. I felt myself begin to breathe again.
James spoke again but less quietly this time. “We need to get ready for the art gallery event.” And with that, he swung himself down from the hood and into the driver’s seat. I followed him and he drove off to my hotel.
James opened the door for me while he said, “I will meet you back here in one hour.”
I nodded and he drove off.
Chapter 5
I walked in the lobby, got my key and trudged up the stairs. When I got inside my room, I took a nice twenty minute shower, then got dressed in a shimmery lavender material. It had capped sleeves and a flared skirt that accented my waist. The dress was trimmed in black. I decided that I needed a little makeup so I brushed on some light purple eye shadow, black eyeliner, and mascara. I added a tint of lip gloss as an afterthought.
My blonde hair fell in soft waves down my back and my gold eyes seemed to sparkle. I slipped my feet in some black converse so I kept my own personality and headed downstairs. As I entered the lobby, I was met with a lot of whistles and a couple of rude comments.
“Hey gorgeous, you wanna go get a drink?”
“Yo babe, I can treat you better than him.”
If looks could kill, I’d be a mass murderer. I spoke in a threatening low whisper, “If you don’t shut up, I will slash your tires and make you regret the day that you were born.”
One of the guys raised his eyebrows and smirked. “How so, Princess?”
I grinned evilly, “I will call your mothers and tell them what you’ve said. All I have to do is find your google plus account and then it’s all over.”
Their eyes widened in fear and they said hurried apologies as they backed quickly away. I returned to my waiting for James outside.
A limo pulled into the drive with a person that looked oddly like James in the driver’s seat. A second later when the man turned the car off and stepped out of it, I saw it was James. He was
wearing a white tuxedo and a green tie to set off his eyes. He saw me and beckoned me to come closer. Without saying a word, he opened the passenger door and I shifted myself inside.
As we drove, James commented, “You look really pretty tonight.”
I was glad it was dark and that James kept his eyes on the road, because I was blushing furiously. I don’t know why, because James obviously wasn’t interested in me. I was too homely looking compared to his good looks. With his jet black messy hair and intense green eyes, he was the equivalent of a male model. Did I just think that? Maybe I liked him more than I thought.
“So, you ready for tonight,” I asked?
James responded, “As ready as I can be.”
I commented jokingly, “My only goal is not to die.”
James said seriously, “I’ll keep you safe. You’re not going to die on my watch.”
I blushed again and the car fell silent.
Chapter 6
We arrived at the art gallery to see it was lavishly decorated with fairy lights and music. We entered the building with an air of confidence and elegance about us and saw trays upon trays of dainty finger sandwiches, fruit pieces, and cheese squares. There were boxes for putting their bids in (the highest bid being shown every hour) and the paintings were displayed right next to them.
I hadn’t gotten a chance to really look at any of the art earlier and now that I was, I had to admit Silvermiller had great taste in art. When we walked through the door, Michael Silvermiller had seen me and James and started towards us.
Silvermiller bowed, smiled at me and said, “You look lovely.”
These words didn’t quite have the same effect on me as James complimenting me had. It didn’t make me feel like I was floating through the sky or like I had sniper butterflies in my stomach.
I replied anyway, “Thank you so much for inviting me to this incredible event. I hope you don’t mind I brought someone with me.”
Silvermiller eyed James and said pompously, “Not at all. I do hope though that he’s not your, eh… significant other.”
I laughed a little bit nervously. “No, he’s not. This is Costas, my chauffeur and advisor. He doesn’t talk much.”
“Well, it’s very nice to meet you Costas.”
James grunted in response.
Silvermiller looked at me surprised (and a little bit irritated) and turned to me. “Well, uh… Duchess Maria, if you would follow me, I’d like to show you some of the exhibits.”
I nodded, smiled, and spoke to James, “Costas, if you would like to go wait near the corner that would be great.”
James looked at me like he didn’t want to leave me alone with Silvermiller and didn’t move.
I discreetly jerked my head signaling that he just needed to go.
James glowered, but walked stiffly over to the corner and stood straight backed, still gazing intently at me.
I followed Silvermiller around the gallery, wondering why he was acting so weird and when James would be able to sneak upstairs. He had to do it while no one was looking and while the guards were not at the office.
“So over to your right Duchess, you’ll see the famous Vermeer painting. It dates to 1665. The name is The Lace Maker. To your left, there’s Le Mur Rose by Matisse. Made in 1898, you’ll notice that it-“ he was cut off abruptly when his phone rang. “If you’ll excuse me.”
I nodded politely and used that as my chance to glance over at the corner. It seemed like James had already gone as he wasn’t standing there anymore. I looked back at Silvermiller again, and saw him talking secretively into the cellphone. A few minutes passed and James hadn’t gotten me yet.
Every few seconds Silvermiller would look at me and then look at the stairs. I was beginning to get worried about James. Where was he? It shouldn’t take this long. And why was Michael Silvermiller still on his phone? Just then, Silvermiller started walking towards me with a self-satisfied grin on his face. He almost looked as if- Oh. It dawned on me just a minute too late. He knew all along.
James came down the stairs at that second, escorted by who I assumed were Silvermiller’s personal bodyguard.
James motioned at me to leave while I could but I ignored him. If he was going down, I was going down with him.
Silvermiller turned to face the crowd and said, "These two are thieves. They are trying to steal my money!" I opened my mouth, about to speak but James shot me a look telling me to keep quiet. Silvermiller called security, looking entirely too smug as they took us away.
The drive to the police station was silent. Or at least I thought we were going to the station. As we took a turn past it I quipped, “Where are we going?"
The security guard looked in the rearview mirror and grinned evilly. "To the big house. Mr. Silvermiller is friends with people in positions so high, you don't even know about them."
Wonderful. Not even rights to a fair trial. Then again, I guess we weren't in America.
James angrily whispered, “Why didn’t you just leave?”
I retorted, “I wasn’t going to leave you alone! If you’re going down, I’m going down with you!”
James sighed, losing his angry tone and instead adopting a concerned one. “I was the one who dragged you into this. I could’ve protected you had I just realized he was up to something.”
I smiled, amused. “James, you’re the thief. I’m the grifter. If I didn’t notice then you sure as heck wouldn’t have either. And besides, as long as we don’t get sentenced to death, and I’m sure we won’t,” I amended quickly as I saw James’ worried expression, “I’ll be fine.”
Chapter 7
When we got to the imperious looking jail, we were shown to our cells.
“Oh look. A piece of poop. And there’s a rat. And for the grand finale, a rat on a piece of poop. Wonderful. Love the hygiene here guys,” I said sarcastically to the guards. They rolled their eyes.
The cells, like I said, were gross. They were dark, dingy, and full of rat feces. Stocked with a cot, a small toilet, and absolutely no privacy, they looked to be about the most uncomfortable things anyone had ever come up with. The only good thing about this situation was that I was right next to James' cell. I was sure he was going to think a way out of this mess.
The guards left us locked up and I spoke to James when I heard their footsteps receding. "James. Please tell me you have one of your brilliant ideas to get us out of here."
"Err...as a matter of fact, I don't. I didn't really plan on this."
I let out a sigh of frustration.
Another voice, one I didn't recognize spoke up, “Oi! I! Would you keep it down? I'm trying to sleep."
"Sorry," I said, "we're trying to think of a way out."
"Oh, another pair of would-be escapees. Well pals, I may be able to help you out. Does the lady have a bobby pin on her?"
I nodded, and then remembering that she couldn't see me, I voiced my actions. I pulled a pin out and my hair came cascading down my back. I handed the bobby pin through the bars to the girl and asked, “I never caught your name?"
"It's Aliyah Brackenfield," she answered as a lock clicked. I saw Aliyah step out from her cell and work on my lock.
She was about twenty with smooth brown hair and perfectly done makeup, despite being in a jail cell for who knows how long. She had high cheekbones and chocolate brown eyes that seemed to bore right through the door and into my soul. A lock clicked again, this time it was my own. I followed her over to James' cell.
Aliyah spoke matter of factly, "You would think more people would have bobby pins on them, but you would be surprised."
I wondered how long she had been here and was about to ask when James' door swung open soundlessly. Aliyah led the way over to the entrance to the open main hall. She stopped right at the edge of the hallway. I looked around her and saw why. Two guards were pacing back and forth, blocking our escape.
I raised my pointer finger to
show her I had to grab something. She nodded and I snuck over to the watch guard station that was for some dumb reason, abandoned. I grabbed our belongings that had not yet been put in the lockers for when we checked out. I tossed James his phone and put mine in my hidden pocket in the dress. I then motioned to Aliyah that we could go now.
Aliyah turned around looking straight at the window that was at the end of the opposite corridor. She walked quietly towards it, with me and James following. Aliyah looked through the window and then scrunched up her face. James and I braced ourselves as Aliyah took the fire extinguisher and smashed the window.
The sound sent the guards running at us but before they could stop us, we jumped.