The Naked Man — Chapter 10
Katerina woke draped over the kitchen table, her face plastered against her Introduction to Ethics textbook. Her eyes were dry and sticky, and her mouth tasted like last night’s coffee. She stumbled to the bathroom, splashed water on her face and brushed her teeth. Then, she rolled out her yoga mat and tried to crowd out her thoughts by concentrating only on the motion of her body stretching, leaning, and lifting. After an hour she settled back into Savasana, the corpse pose, a comforting posture of total relaxation. While her body was supposed to mimic that of the dead, her mind would not cooperate. She still had not spoken to her parents.
The ring of the cell phone jolted her from her thoughts. The number came up as private. It was Jasmine. Another assignment.
•••
When the elevator opened, the door to the penthouse was ajar. Kat hesitated, unsure if she should knock or enter. She heard a man’s voice speaking in a low and steady cadence. The voice came closer until the door swung open wide. Kat stood like a schoolgirl; her hands folded in front of her.
The man was dressed in crisp, dark slacks, a tailored white shirt, and a red tie. He had a phone at his ear and motioned with two crooked fingers that she should enter. He turned his back to her and moved back into the apartment. She guessed he was in his forties.
“Look, you tell those assholes that the gross margin has to be set at thirty percent, you understand? It’s not worth doing with a margin any smaller. Jesus Christ.”
The apartment wasn’t a living space so much as an exposition for Rococo furniture. Ornate, asymmetrical pieces with floral designs created a miniature version of eighteenth-century France crammed into a New York penthouse apartment. Kat was careful not to touch anything. She didn’t dare leave a fingerprint.
“Fine, fine,” he said, running a hand through his dark hair. “I have to go into a meeting now. Call me in a half hour.”
Obviously, this isn’t going to take long, she thought. Judging by the surroundings, Kat guessed he wanted her to track down some hard to find item he saw on Antiques Roadshow. She was already mentally making her plan of attack. Who did she know in the antiques world?
Clicking off the phone, he turned to her. He regarded her with a bemused look, and then gave a slight shake of his head as he came forward and made a gesture toward a chair.
Katerina sat and waited.
He drew in a long breath. “Jonathan Cookson. I have a situation. It’s delicate and it’s time sensitive.”
He looked her over again, taking in her face and hair. He gave a short laugh, shook his head and glanced around the room. “My wife is attached to antiques. Not the pieces themselves but the act of hunting them down like prey and acquiring them.”
Kat gave a nod, pleased she had been right. However, there was a slight problem.
“Mr. Cookson,” she said.
He stared in response, his eyes narrowing at her interruption.
“I’m sorry, sir. The fee.”
“Oh yes,” he said, moving to the desk. He grabbed a Victoria’s Secret gift bag and brought it to her. She accepted the bag and pulled out the box inside. He hovered over her as she counted the packs of bills, never glancing up. When she finished, she replaced the lid and put the box back in the gift bag. Eighty thousand dollars. Twenty-five percent would be hers. Twenty thousand dollars for arranging the purchase of an antique. She realized this was like the diamond merchants she had heard about. Thousands of dollars in gems and they carried them in suitcases like they were marbles, like they were nothing.
“I take it I can continue now?” he asked.
Kat nodded and folded her hands.
As he spoke, his annoyance appeared to wane. He sounded almost bored. “As I said, my wife likes to acquire antiques. Sometimes she changes periods, often without warning, and then sells them. She recently sold a Chippendale Secretaire Cabinet. Two drawers that slide open and two drawers that swing open with a hidden compartment behind a false backing.”
He stopped speaking. Kat waited. He responded by sitting down, crossing his legs, and mimicking her folded hands.
Kat finally caught on, shifting in her seat in an attempt to cover her obvious lack of understanding. “What’s behind the false backing?” she asked, feeling her face color in embarrassment.
“A VHS tape.”
“VHS. This is something from a long time ago.”
“Very good, Katerina. The tape showcases a compromising position that must be kept private at all costs.”
She nodded. “It would be highly embarrassing to you.”
“It would be highly inconvenient to me. It would be highly embarrassing to my wife.”
They want to confess.
“My companion in the tape isn’t female. I’m not in the mood to go through another divorce.”
“Yes, sir,” she said, her voice a monotone.
“Indiscretions,” he said and he smiled though Kat was sure he was not amused.
“My wife sold the piece at auction. I did not know this until I returned from a business trip. I wasn’t concerned until I realized the tape wasn’t where I thought it was. It’s in the cabinet.”
Questions began to float through Kat’s mind. Why still have the tape? Why wasn’t it destroyed years ago? Maybe he enjoyed watching it, or he enjoyed having it in the house, or he enjoyed the fact that his wife didn’t know.
And Philip would say… that’s not your problem. Do the job.
“You would like me to arrange a buyback.”
Jonathan gave a snort of laughter. “Of course not. Any inquiry to buy it back would require me to speak to my wife and raise suspicion.”
Kat’s discomfort with her slow performance rose with each tick of the Chateau Chambord clock perched above the fireplace.
“I want you to steal it,” he said.
“Steal the piece of furniture.”
He shrugged. “You can if you like but I think it would be easier just to steal the tape, don’t you?”
“Yes,” Kat said. “Yes, I suppose it would.”
