The Fake Job
The unassuming building that Richie accompanied Nonnie Scott to in Coffs could have been anything from a dentist’s office to a warehouse. They stood on the side walk while Nonnie punched in a code number to slide the tall decorative gate open. It shut behind Richie with resounding bang. Nonnie rang the bell.
The door was opened by a tall thin man dressed entirely in black, “This is Milton, Uncle Stephen’s man,” Nonnie said by way of introduction. Richie nodded toward the man and stopped taking in the entrance, it was like walking into a jewel box every surface wall and strange looking furniture pieces were covered with collections specially lit with unseen lamps. He followed Milton and Nonnie up the stairs to the second floor. Where they waited in a reception room furnished much as the entrance hall below.
“What does your Uncle do?” Richie asked feeling a little strange in his surroundings.
“Antiques,” she smiled and removed her jacket and tossed it across a velvet covered sofa.
“Oh, yeah…I should have known.” He stuck his hands in his pockets so as not to touch anything. Hearing voices in the hall he turned toward the door as Nonnie’s Stephen Scott made what could only be called an entrance. A tall man of considerable size resplendent in a white suit and bright pink shirt entered smiling and held out his hand to Richie.
“Stephen Scott and you I assume are the solicitor, Richie Roberts?”
“Yeah, nice to meet ya.”
“Oh I do love that Jersey accent,” he indicated he should sit and moved over to an ornate cabinet and produced a bottle of excellent brandy and poured out three snifters and handed them out.
“I believe Nonnie has told you we investigated you Richie, may I call you Richie?”
“Yeah sure, why did you investigate me Mr. Scott?”
“You must call me Stephen, I unfortunately have need of someone with your considerable talents. I was particularly interested in some of your past published exploits in New Jersey and New York. You have quite a reputation in your field as I have in mine.”
“Are you talkin’ about investigative police work or my work as a public defender?”
“Ah, investigative work to begin with, you see my dear someone is flooding the market with fakes, very good fakes of a very valuable item. I myself have several collections and I do know where of I speak. I want to know where they are coming from, who is responsible and I want it stopped.”
“If you’re talkin’ antiques Stephen, I’ll tell ya right now I know nothing about them. I couldn’t tell A from B.”
“But you don’t have to know a thing about them dear, we are talking about a criminal offence. I will show you what I am talking about, come with me please.” He smiled and walked over waiting for Richie to stand and led him down the hall to a room filled with locked glass fronted display cases.”
Richie stood in the middle of the room with his hands on his hips wondering why in the world anybody would want to own something they had to keep locked up.
“Here,” he held out his hand by way of invitation. Stephen opened a case and took out a hand painted miniature portrait not more than an inch across. “This dear is the real thing you will notice the detail, the perfect coloration, even an eyelash is discernable. This was painted by the artist you see has signed here,” he picked up a magnifying glass, “it was painted in the year 1725, now then,” he placed it carefully back in the cabinet, “how many of these do you suppose might exist today, hmm?”
Richie shook his head, “No idea.”
“Exactly twelve of these were painted by this artist, he died a very young man in his twenties. I have seen with my own eyes eight come on the market in the last two months. I happen to own six of the originals. So you see…now then come.” He went into another room where he dug around on his desk and produced a box with one he bought at auction, “This is what is being sold, it is an obvious fake I bought it for this purpose only so that I might show you the difference. I do not expect you to be an expert in miniatures Richie, either myself or Nonnie will be at your disposal should you need an eye.”
“How much does something like this go for?”
“I have in my collection one that I paid $97,500 for. These fakes are going for around $15,000 to $20,000 each. One has even made it to Sotheby’s and what an embarrassment it caused there.”
“For something like this?” Richie looked astonished.
“Indeed. It’s a damned novelty at best and should go for no more than $50.00. Are you interested dear?”
Richie handed him back the fake miniature, it was a little out of his line especially since he’d come to Australia. “I’ll give it a shot.”
Stephen smiled broadly and took him by the arm and walked down the hall to the reception room. “I assure you Richie you will be paid handsomely for your work. Now I have a file prepared for you with everything I know about this dirty business.”
Nonnie with her feet tucked up on the sofa was nursing her brandy and she knew by the look on her uncle’s face that Richie had taken the job. She patted the sofa next to her while Stephen went off to find his file.
“Well, what do you think?”
“To tell you the truth, I haven’t a clue. I don’t know anything about this business but if he’s got some leads I’ll follow them.” Richie thought a moment, “I might want to bring in someone else to help.” He was thinking about Zack.
“I will warn you, these people are not nice Richie, a body was fished out of the bay three weeks ago. The local police have no idea what they are dealing with. They are treating it as a routine homicide. We believe the dead man was a carrier. His name is unknown of course but a broken miniature was found on his person. Uncle Stephen will have all that information for you in his file, he’s very thorough.” She smiled.
Stephen came back with his information in a leather zipped case. “This is all I have my dear and if you have any questions you may call me, all information is inside.” He smiled sweetly, “Now I am away to an engagement, Nonnie I trust you will take care of our guest.”
“Good night Uncle Stephen, have a good time.”
The man seemed to pull the air out of the room when he left, he was quite a presence. “I guess I’d better go and read up on this,” Richie stood up and Nonnie unfolded herself from the sofa.
“I’ll let you out.” Nonnie led him down the stairs.
Richie turned to her at the door, “Would you uh like to get some dinner somewhere?”
Nonnie smiled, “Thanks but I have a date.”
“Oh, okay maybe some other time.”
“Maybe, good night Richie.”
Richie got in his vehicle and pulled away, he couldn’t figure Nonnie out, her eyes said yes but her mouth always said no.
