* *
* * *
Dan eyed the
gun. "There are a lot more paintings downstairs than there were when I
left," he said. "I don't know much about art, but I recognize a few
of them."
"Copies,"
Snithian snapped.
"This
is no copy," Dan tapped the top painting on the stack. "It's an
original. You can feel the brush-work."
"Not
prints, of course. Copies." Snithian whinnied. "Exact copies."
"These
paintings are stolen, Mr. Snithian. Why would a wealthy man like you take to
stealing art?"
"I'm
not here to answer questions, Mr. Slane!" The weapon in Snithian's hand
bugged. A wave of pain swept over Dan. Snithian cackled, lowering the gun.
"You'll soon learn better manners."
Dan's hand
went to his pocket, came out holding the automatic. He aimed it at Snithian's
face. The industrialist froze, eyes on Dan's gun.
"Drop
the gun." Snithian's weapon clattered to the floor. "Now let's go and
find Kelly."
"Wait!"
Snithian shrilled. "I can make you a rich man, Slane."
"Not by
stealing paintings."
"You
don't understand. This is more than petty larceny!"
"That's
right. It's grand larceny. These pictures are worth thousands."
"I can
show you things that will completely change your attitude. Actually, I've acted
throughout in the best interests of humanity!"
Dan gestured
with the gun. "Don't plan anything clever. I'm not used to guns. This
thing will go off at the least excuse, and then I'd have a murder to
explain."
"That
would be an inexcusable blunder on your part!" Snithian keened.
"I'm a
very important figure, Slane." He crossed the deep-pile rug to a
glass-doored cabinet. "This," he said, taking out a flat black box,
"contains a fortune in precious stones." He lifted the lid. Dan
stepped closer. A row of brilliant red gems nestled in a bed of cotton.
"Rubies?"
"Flawless--and
perfectly matched." Snithian whinnied. "Perfectly matched. Worth a fortune. They're yours, if
you cooperate."
"You
said you were going to change my attitude. Better get started."
No comments:
Post a Comment