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went on.  Even these latest scientific techniques of yours genetic
fingerprinting are useless in this instance. I can t convince anyone that this
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waif was not the child of my wife.
 So, why does she hate you so much? I didn t bother to tell him that the DNA
of Marina s half sister could indeed prove the claim that she was his
stepchild.
 I think it has more to do with her husband. He was a substantial client of
mine until we had a falling-out over a serious acquisition I made. Richard
tried to claim a piece of the profits, but he wasn t successful. Soon they
were coming at me from all directions.
 But the letters were real, weren t they? I ve seen one of them.
 Quite real. I can give you copies of all of them, if you like. Caxton
removed a microrecorder smaller than a matchbook from his shirt pocket and
spoke into it, reminding himself to ask his lawyer for a set of the
correspondence.
 They played quite a dramatic role in the matrimonial sparring. Deni s lawyer
tried to use them to show that I had hired someone to take a hit on her
life.
With good reason, I thought to myself.  In the letter I saw, the information
was strictly private in nature, Mr. Caxton. It had to come from someone who
knew Deni intimately. If not you, then can you suggest who it might have
been?
He looked through me as though I were a complete idiot.  I guess when my
attorney charges me four hundred fifty dollars an hour, it s worth the
results. He got to the bottom of it rather quickly. Once you check this fellow
out, this what was his name?
 Omar Sheffield, Mercer offered.
 Yes, Omar. You ll find, as my lawyer did, that Omar had developed quite a
scheme for himself in state prison. He s got a file six inches thick, just up
at the jail, blackmailing women the same way. Every single one of them in the
middle of a divorce.
 I know I m only a dumb cop, but where d he get his information?
 The library, gentlemen. The law library. Would you believe, our pen pal Omar
is a regular little scholar, though you d not know it from his crude
language.
We still didn t get it.
 When the divorce proceedings began, Deni applied for temporary alimony. I
don t know if you re familiar with these civil actions, but they tend to
involve a lot of mudslinging. I was prepared to be more than generous with
Deni. After all, she d given me a great deal of happiness for ten years.
 Either she or her lawyer got greedy. Suddenly her bills for hairdressing and
entertaining escalated to ridiculous numbers. She claimed more for facials and
massages during the last year than most people in this city spend to eat.
 So, what book did Omar find in the prison library? Mercer asked.
 It wasn t a book at all. It wasn t even the tabloids. Surely you can guess by
now, Miss Cooper, can t you?
I was dumbfounded.
 What s it called? Caxton went on.  The Law Journal ? Have I got it
straight?
All three men looked at me, and finally the lightbulb went on in my head.  Of
course, the judge s opinion in the matrimonial case. It would have
everything details and facts in it.
 Thank you. Vindicated at last.
The New York Law Journal was printed every weekday and subscribed to by most
law firms and libraries in the state. It was my daily tool for keeping up with
case law in the criminal field; I clipped and filed articles about court
decisions and issues related to my work. It rarely interested me to read
writeups of divorce matters, but I had seen enough of them to know that every
detail mentioned in Omar Sheffield s letter was likely to have been referenced
by the judge in reaching conclusions about the case at hand.
Caxton continued.  My lawyer was furious even took it up with the editor.
After all, there s no reason not to have redacted some of the confidential
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information, because of precisely this kind of escapade.
Mercer had never read any of the decisions.  So, how did Sheffield get your
address?
Caxton seemed almost exasperated by our collective density at this point.  My
dear fellow, the judge practically spoon-fed the whole scam to him. You ll
read it for yourself, but I can pretty much paraphrase it for you.  The couple
live in separate apartments in the matrimonial residence, which is located at
890 Fifth Avenue. And so on down the line, chapter and verse, hairdresser,
masseuse, pedicurist, and psychic all included.
 Go visit the warden, as my lawyer did. Omar Sheffield is a more prolific
letter writer than Winston Churchill. The bastord had done this operation a
dozen times. Check with him he was quite candid with my lawyer.
 Omar ran out of ink not too long ago, Mike said.
Our intentions of putting Caxton on edge by confronting him with the threats
against Deni that we had assumed would be linked back to him had failed
dismally.
Mike was noshing on a cheese Danish and took a swallow as he looked over at
Caxton.  So, is there really an Amber Room?
 You don t look the gullible type, Detective. Have they suckered you in with
all this nonsense, too? Is this another Marina Sette story? He was looking
back and forth at each of us, to see if one of us would make a telltale slip.
 Willing to sacrifice one nubile young prosecutor? Legend has it, I think,
that once I let a seductress in that secret chamber with me and make love to
her, I have to kill her.
It did sound a lot sillier than it had when Joan told us about it last
evening, and I absorbed it on one Dewar s and two glasses of superb red wine.
 Keep them coming, gentlemen. Your questions get easier to answer all the
time.
 Why didn t Deni go to England with you in June of last year? What was so
important to her that she needed to stay behind, until you went on to Bath? I
asked.
Caxton stiffened noticeably, perhaps because the reminder of the scene in Bath
rankled him.  Well, you re the ones they pay to do the investigation, aren t
you? Suppose you get on about your business and get an answer to that for me.
It s puzzled me for quite some time now.
He tried to bring the meeting to a close now, but Mike and Mercer weren t
entirely ready.
 Got any Rembrandts in stock, Mr. Caxton? Mike was on his feet, walking to
the far side of the room to study the trait hanging on the opposite wall.  A
little something with water in it, for a change?
 No, Detective, not on hand. But I d love to buy one from you, should you come
across it. The Caxtons, going back a couple of generations, have been known to
squeeze every penny worth of value out of a fine painting, but we simply don t
do armed robberies. Not my style.
 The Storm on the Sea of Galilee, painted in sixteen thirtythree. Probably
the most famous missing artwork in the world, Mr. Chapman. And I would be
delighted to get my hands on it.
 Did Mrs. Caxton ever talk to you about it, or about the theft at the
Gardner?
 Everyone in my business talked about it at some time or other. Quite frankly,
it fascinated all of us. Such a bold undertaking, and then to be stuck with a
treasure that no museum would dare touch, despite the fact that eighty percent
of the things you see in European collections have been stolen or looted over
the centuries.
 Once a year thieves pull off a caper at some institution or other even the
Louvre has had its share of embarrassments. Deni was a free spirit. Not
exactly, shall we say, to the manner born. Would it intrigue her to be the one
to find the lost Rembrandt and make her mark on the world? No question in my
mind. Would she sleep with the enemy to do that? Two years ago I would have
been confident in saying no. Now I m really not sure.
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