Page 122 of Caper Crush
“I’m sorry, but I really don’t feel comfortable with that,” Matt says. “If there’s a painting you like, you can bring it with you into the other room.”
William picks up the one Matt said we’d like.
Matt goes to turn off the light in the back closet.
That’smypainting. I’m bringing it. I gingerly lift my painting off its hook.
Matt comes out and stops short.
“That’s not mine. That’s not for sale,” Matt says.
“Why not?” I ask.
The doorbell rings again.
“Someone gave it to me to copy, but they’re picking it up today,” Matt says. “I need to get the door.”
“When?” William asks.
“Around four,” Matt says.
He holds the door open for us and gestures that we should come out. My hands grip my painting. I don’t want to let it go. I reluctantly put it back up on the wall. William and I leave the room, and he closes the door behind us. Matt jogs over to the video camera monitor.
Looking at the image on the video camera monitor, Matt says, “It’s a police officer.” He doesn’t sound guilty-surprised, just surprised.
I text Officer Johnson that Edmund is coming to pick up my painting today at four. Or if not Edmund, whoever gave him the painting to copy.
“Has there been a lot of crime in the neighborhood recently?” William asks.
“Not that I know of,” Matt says. “And I doubt my art would be a target. I can barely sell it myself.”
He buzzes Officer Johnson in.
Officer Johnson enters the room and takes out his badge. He does not indicate that he recognizes us.
“We’ve received a tip that you have a stolen painting here.” Officer Johnson shows a picture of my painting on his phone. “Do you have this painting in your possession?”
“Yes,” Matt says. “But I didn’t steal it. This guy gave it to me to copy. His girlfriend wanted a copy. I had no idea it was stolen.”
“Maybe we should leave now and text you a better time to talk about buying paintings.” William inches toward the door.
“Yes, yes,” Matt says. “I swear I didn’t steal it. The guy is coming today to pick it up.”
“Okay,” Officer Johnson says. “I’d like to meet him then. Your cooperation would be appreciated.”
“Yes, yes, of course,” Matt says.
“We’ll take the painting.” Officer Johnson radios his colleagues to come take the painting. I want to leave with it.
“Did he give you any other paintings to copy?” Officer Johnson asks.
“No.” Sweat beads on Matt’s forehead.
The Kimimoto is still missing.
“Are you sure? If we find them here, it won’t look good,” Officer Johnson says.
“Yes.” Matt runs his hand through his hair. “I swear. Just this one painting.”
