Winter Light

I was admonished with a haughty tsk as we looked over to the now empty paneled wall near the museum’s entrance. A dusty, six by nine outline newly supplanted the place of Horace Penderguff’s “Winter Light.”

“Money and beauty form a crass coupling, Mr. Day.” She held a finger to her chin. “Still, you will find the painting.”

I grinned and quoted her double my old fee. St. Killian’s could use the money for their annual Christmas charity drives.

“”Done. My part, that is.” She walked over with a retainer in hand. “Chief Larsson says that you come with the highest of recommendations: the recovery of Don Reynosa’s ‘A Rapt St. Agnes’ for a Boston museum and Hetzger’s ‘Autumn Clear’ for a Pittsburgh gallery. With us, you’ll exceed his recommendation, I’m sure.”

She stepped back into the darkness.

“And the police didn’t take the case, because…”





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