Page 76 of The Picasso Heist
“What do you mean?”
“She was never going to win. She was a shill,” I say. “She was planted.”
“By Waxman?”
“That’s right. Smarmy’s been rigging the game, jacking up purchase prices to reap higher premiums. Apparently this wasn’t the first time he’s done it, or so the agents tell me.”
“Why would the FBI involve you, though?” he asks.
“Because they learned I’m the new teacher’s pet, which means I’m in a prime position to get the smoking-gun evidence they need. I’m literally a few doors down from Waxman’s office now. I have access to files. Proximity.”
“They were that sure you’d cooperate with them?”
“The short answer is no,” I say.
“I mean, in a way, you’d be risking your career.”
“Yeah, but I’m the girl who ran after the guy who stole your Picasso. That’s their thinking. What wouldn’t I risk in the name of doing the right thing?”
Bergamo leans back, taking it all in. “That son of a bitch Waxman,” he says. “Rigging his auctions, huh?”
“Yep.”
“How’d they even come to suspect him?”
“Turns out the woman Waxman hired to jack up the bidding is a high-priced escort who was just caught for tax evasion. To save herself, she sacrificed Waxman, sold him out.”
“Talk about getting screwed,” says Bergamo, laughing. “Jesus, I really thought this was all about—”
I cut him off, quickly raising an index finger to my lips:Shh.“I know. How could you not think it was about you? They literally used your name at the restaurant, told us you were the target,” I say. “But that’s only because they can connect me with you.”
Bergamo stares at me. He’s confused all over again. Why did I cut him off? Why didn’t I want him to mention anything we’ve been up to?
This is why.
I tug down on my blouse, showing him. I’m wearing a wire.
CHAPTER66
HE DOESN’T KNOWwhat to say or do. He’s frozen. Speechless.
That same index finger covering my lips is now spinning in the air like one of those exercise wheels in a hamster cage. I’m telling Bergamo, imploring him,Keep going! Don’t stop! They’re listening. We need to keep the conversation moving.
“Anyway, so that’s the story,” I say. “Obviously, everything I just told you I shouldn’t have, but I knew Waxman would be calling you after I got taken in for questioning and I didn’t think it was fair that the FBI was using you to get to him.”
Bergamo’s still staring at me in shock, his brain trying to wrap itself around the fact that I’m wearing a wire. My finger’s spinning even faster.C’mon, c’mon, c’mon! This can’t be a monologue, Enzio, you have to engage with me. This is a performance.
He snaps out of it. “I… um… appreciate it,” he says.
Acting-wise, it’s not exactly Academy Award–caliber, but it’s a start.
“Here’s the thing, though,” I say. “You’ve got to play it cool with Waxman. You can’t let on that you know anything. If you do, the FBI will know it came from me.”
“Sure. I understand.”
“Do you, though?”
“Yes,” he says. “I get it.”
