White Hot
Page 34
“Caravaggio was a rebel,” Augustine explained. “In the 1590s most of the Italian art scene consisted of Mannerist works—posed, stilted arrangements of people with unnaturally long limbs painted in jarring colors. Caravaggio painted from life. His works showed ordinary people and they were hyper-realistic for the time, funny and sly. Later on he would become massively influential.”
That made sense. “Baranovsky identifies with Caravaggio,” I said. “They both rejected the established artificial status quo and did what they thought was real and important.”
“Precisely,” Rogan said.
“Fortune Teller was Caravaggio’s first work in his style,” Augustine said. “It was the genesis of everything he created. The painting exists in two versions, and Baranovsky already bought the later version from the French for an outrageous amount of money.”
“But he doesn’t have the 1594 version,” I guessed. “And it’s killing him. It’s the original. He has to have it.”
“You should come work for me,” Augustine said.
“I do work for you, by proxy.”
“Long story short,” Rogan said, “the Museum of Fine Arts here in Houston owns the original Fortune Teller. Baranovsky tried everything to buy it, but MFAH refuses to sell. When the painting was donated, the owner stipulated that it could never be sold or leased for monetary compensation. And yet, MFAH wants Baranovsky’s money.”
“So they are letting him display it,” Augustine finished. “In return—because they can’t take money—once a year he organizes a huge charity gala. Minimum ticket price is two hundred thousand per family.”
I choked on the last of my coffee.
“Baranovsky won’t talk to me,” Augustine said. “I’m not flashy enough as Primes go. I’m very much in line with the status quo. He might talk to Rogan, since he’s the most dangerous man in Houston.”
“Is that the official title?” I asked.
“No,” Rogan said. “It’s a statement of fact.”
I couldn’t resist. “It’s so refreshing to meet a Prime with such humility.”
“Anyway,” Augustine cut in. “Even if Baranovsky talked to Rogan, it wouldn’t do us any good. We all know that Rogan has the interrogative subtlety of a howitzer.”
“I can be subtle.” He actually managed to look offended.
“Let’s ask her.” Augustine looked at me. “How do you think Rogan would try to get information from Baranovsky?”
I said the first thing that popped into my head. “He’d hold him by his throat from some really tall balcony.”
“I rest my case.”
“Holding people by their throat is effective and rapidly produces results,” Rogan said, completely matter-of-fact.
Augustine shook his head. “Two of the people in this room are private detectives who routinely extract information from people. You’re not one of those two. We need better bait.”
They both looked at me.
“What makes you think he would be interested?” I asked.
“Because Rogan will show up,” Augustine said. “He never shows up, but this time he will and he’ll pay very obvious attention to you. You will also be in my company. You’re beautiful and new, and you will seem to command the attention of two Primes. Baranovsky will want to know what’s so special about you.”
“When is it?”
“Friday.”
“I’ll need a dress,” I said. “And money.”
Rogan leaned forward, a warning in his eyes. “Right now the only two Primes that know about you are Augustine and me. If you walk into that benefit dinner, this will change.”
Augustine’s eyes narrowed. He was watching Rogan very carefully. “You want to get to Baranovsky. This is the best and most efficient way.”
Rogan ignored him. “Nevada, I know that you’re keeping your talent quiet. There will be no turning back after this.”
Either he genuinely worried about me, which was really touching, or he had some clandestine reason to keep the fact of my existence quiet so he could continue utilizing my power. I wish I knew which.
“Don’t be dramatic,” Augustine said. “As long as she doesn’t stand in the middle of the floor and announce that she is a truthseeker, nobody has to know she has any magic at all.”
“There will be consequences,” Rogan said. “It will be difficult to fade into obscurity after this. At worst, people will realize what you do. At best, you will be dismissed as a woman Augustine or I are using. I know your reputation is important to you. Think about it.”
I waited until both of them stopped talking.
“Augustine, are you attending in your professional capacity?”
“Of course. I’ll be using MII’s corporate account. The charitable contribution is tax deductible.”
“Then I’ll attend as your employee.” I looked at Rogan. “If he introduces me as his employee, it’ll explain why I’m there. Your kind of people don’t look too closely at hired help. It will look like I’m one of Augustine’s investigators and you’re trying to get into my pants to aggravate him. If the two of you act the way you’ve been acting every time I’ve seen you together, nobody will doubt it.”
“What do you mean, the way we’ve been acting?” Augustine leaned back.
“Have you ever seen a betta fish?” I asked.
“Of course.”
“Well, when you and Rogan come into each other’s view, you act like two male betta fishes. You puff your fins out and swim around trying to intimidate each other. Just keep doing what you’re doing, and everyone will realize that it’s really about the two of you and I’m just collateral damage. Everything will be fine.”
“I take offense at that,” Augustine said.
“You’re giving Augustine too much credit,” Rogan said. “His fins don’t impress me.”
He’d delivered that reply on autopilot. His eyes were distant. He was probably still thinking about the gala and he didn’t like it.
“I still need a dress.”
“I’ll handle the dress,” Rogan said.
“No,” I told him firmly. “You’ll give me money and I’ll buy my own dress. Also Cornelius will likely want to attend. He’ll need financial assistance as well.”
“I’ll take care of it,” Rogan said.
“It’s decided then,” Augustine said. “Why do I have this nagging feeling this won’t end well?”
“Never fear quarrels, but seek hazardous adventures,” Rogan said, obviously quoting. He still didn’t seem enthusiastic about it.
“Where is that from?” I asked.
“The Three Musketeers.” Augustine shook his head. “Rogan, everything about you is hazardous. It’s late and I have things to take care of. You can have your broody Athos all to yourself, milady. I’ll let myself out.”
He left the room. A quick check of my computer monitor confirmed he’d exited the building, gotten into his car, and driven away.
A speculative light played in Rogan’s eyes. “I always liked Milady more than Constance.”
That made sense. “Baranovsky identifies with Caravaggio,” I said. “They both rejected the established artificial status quo and did what they thought was real and important.”
“Precisely,” Rogan said.
“Fortune Teller was Caravaggio’s first work in his style,” Augustine said. “It was the genesis of everything he created. The painting exists in two versions, and Baranovsky already bought the later version from the French for an outrageous amount of money.”
“But he doesn’t have the 1594 version,” I guessed. “And it’s killing him. It’s the original. He has to have it.”
“You should come work for me,” Augustine said.
“I do work for you, by proxy.”
“Long story short,” Rogan said, “the Museum of Fine Arts here in Houston owns the original Fortune Teller. Baranovsky tried everything to buy it, but MFAH refuses to sell. When the painting was donated, the owner stipulated that it could never be sold or leased for monetary compensation. And yet, MFAH wants Baranovsky’s money.”
“So they are letting him display it,” Augustine finished. “In return—because they can’t take money—once a year he organizes a huge charity gala. Minimum ticket price is two hundred thousand per family.”
I choked on the last of my coffee.
“Baranovsky won’t talk to me,” Augustine said. “I’m not flashy enough as Primes go. I’m very much in line with the status quo. He might talk to Rogan, since he’s the most dangerous man in Houston.”
“Is that the official title?” I asked.
“No,” Rogan said. “It’s a statement of fact.”
I couldn’t resist. “It’s so refreshing to meet a Prime with such humility.”
“Anyway,” Augustine cut in. “Even if Baranovsky talked to Rogan, it wouldn’t do us any good. We all know that Rogan has the interrogative subtlety of a howitzer.”
“I can be subtle.” He actually managed to look offended.
“Let’s ask her.” Augustine looked at me. “How do you think Rogan would try to get information from Baranovsky?”
I said the first thing that popped into my head. “He’d hold him by his throat from some really tall balcony.”
“I rest my case.”
“Holding people by their throat is effective and rapidly produces results,” Rogan said, completely matter-of-fact.
Augustine shook his head. “Two of the people in this room are private detectives who routinely extract information from people. You’re not one of those two. We need better bait.”
They both looked at me.
“What makes you think he would be interested?” I asked.
“Because Rogan will show up,” Augustine said. “He never shows up, but this time he will and he’ll pay very obvious attention to you. You will also be in my company. You’re beautiful and new, and you will seem to command the attention of two Primes. Baranovsky will want to know what’s so special about you.”
“When is it?”
“Friday.”
“I’ll need a dress,” I said. “And money.”
Rogan leaned forward, a warning in his eyes. “Right now the only two Primes that know about you are Augustine and me. If you walk into that benefit dinner, this will change.”
Augustine’s eyes narrowed. He was watching Rogan very carefully. “You want to get to Baranovsky. This is the best and most efficient way.”
Rogan ignored him. “Nevada, I know that you’re keeping your talent quiet. There will be no turning back after this.”
Either he genuinely worried about me, which was really touching, or he had some clandestine reason to keep the fact of my existence quiet so he could continue utilizing my power. I wish I knew which.
“Don’t be dramatic,” Augustine said. “As long as she doesn’t stand in the middle of the floor and announce that she is a truthseeker, nobody has to know she has any magic at all.”
“There will be consequences,” Rogan said. “It will be difficult to fade into obscurity after this. At worst, people will realize what you do. At best, you will be dismissed as a woman Augustine or I are using. I know your reputation is important to you. Think about it.”
I waited until both of them stopped talking.
“Augustine, are you attending in your professional capacity?”
“Of course. I’ll be using MII’s corporate account. The charitable contribution is tax deductible.”
“Then I’ll attend as your employee.” I looked at Rogan. “If he introduces me as his employee, it’ll explain why I’m there. Your kind of people don’t look too closely at hired help. It will look like I’m one of Augustine’s investigators and you’re trying to get into my pants to aggravate him. If the two of you act the way you’ve been acting every time I’ve seen you together, nobody will doubt it.”
“What do you mean, the way we’ve been acting?” Augustine leaned back.
“Have you ever seen a betta fish?” I asked.
“Of course.”
“Well, when you and Rogan come into each other’s view, you act like two male betta fishes. You puff your fins out and swim around trying to intimidate each other. Just keep doing what you’re doing, and everyone will realize that it’s really about the two of you and I’m just collateral damage. Everything will be fine.”
“I take offense at that,” Augustine said.
“You’re giving Augustine too much credit,” Rogan said. “His fins don’t impress me.”
He’d delivered that reply on autopilot. His eyes were distant. He was probably still thinking about the gala and he didn’t like it.
“I still need a dress.”
“I’ll handle the dress,” Rogan said.
“No,” I told him firmly. “You’ll give me money and I’ll buy my own dress. Also Cornelius will likely want to attend. He’ll need financial assistance as well.”
“I’ll take care of it,” Rogan said.
“It’s decided then,” Augustine said. “Why do I have this nagging feeling this won’t end well?”
“Never fear quarrels, but seek hazardous adventures,” Rogan said, obviously quoting. He still didn’t seem enthusiastic about it.
“Where is that from?” I asked.
“The Three Musketeers.” Augustine shook his head. “Rogan, everything about you is hazardous. It’s late and I have things to take care of. You can have your broody Athos all to yourself, milady. I’ll let myself out.”
He left the room. A quick check of my computer monitor confirmed he’d exited the building, gotten into his car, and driven away.
A speculative light played in Rogan’s eyes. “I always liked Milady more than Constance.”
