Being an early riser I was sitting on the floor my back leaning against the sofa in our living area, my jewelery kit open beside me. Crystals, beads, and semi-precious stones on the coffee table. It was early evening and I had the television on A&E for noise, listening to a program about museums in America. Reaching in my kit I pulled out a length of cord that had been fashioned into a series of figure eight knots. Staring at it half in frustration as I had wanted to use it but also loving the reminder of the man sleeping in the room closest to me. As I ran my finger over the knotting, my interest was grabbed by the voice over of the program saying "Christ on the Sea of Galilee". As I watched the screen was filled with the image of a stormy seascape with a boat packed to bursting with men, the urgency to keep the boat upright that was conveyed in the brushstrokes took my breath away. I looked back to the cord, then back at the screen as a smile formed on my face. I jumped up and ran to the study to grab a notepad and pen and dashed back. Sitting on the arm of the sofa I listened until the man's voice said where that painting was housed, I learned that it was the only seascape that had been painted by Rembrandt making it even more rare, that it's home was the Gardner Museum in Boston, Massachusetts, and that the collection that it was a part of was had unusual conditions attached.
Apparently the collection of art housed in the museum could not be sold, removed, or even moved to other areas of the building without the city having to give the collection and property to Harvard. Not a problem I thought, this is easy enough to get around we have attorneys and more money than God. I would have that painting in a matter of weeks.
I was wrong. No matter how hard I pushed the attorneys and how hard they pushed the museum, the museum would not relent.
One night as I stood on the terrace, my frustration growing with every passing moment, the lovely gift that I wanted for Jules was becoming an obsession and I can admit that I am spoiled so having strangers tell me no was wearing on my nerves. Looking out over the city, I was running through every possible way that I had left to purchase the Rembrandt when I heard glass shattering on the street below. I watched as two men removed the electronics and anything else of value from a vehicle that had been carelessly parked on the street. I grinned as I thought "Well Siobhan you have tried all of the legal ways to do this, it's time to be a pirate."
****************************
The following night I placed a call to a friend, Michael is not of the most law abiding of beings. I explained my predicament and asked if he could arrange with a few of his contacts for the painting to be delivered to our penthouse in Manhattan by the following Monday.
"Siobhan, you do know that it takes quite a while to plan such a thing don't you or has Julianus spoiled you for so long that you have no patience" he asked with a laugh in his voice.
I replied in my most lovely voice "Michael, I've been attempting to purchase this bit of canvas and oil for long enough. And I have no reason to wait when you are so capable of accomplishing such a simple task in less time than I given."
A booming laugh filled my ear before he said "Bhan, I will have your painting at your penthouse Monday at eight in the evening and I expect to be well compensated young lady"
"Please Mickey you know that I would not ask such a thing of you without being ready to meet your price" I responded. Thinking that even with his large fee I was still saving several millions of dollars by going this route.
After hanging up the receiver I was giddy because in three short days I was going to have that painting and Jules would have his gift. I made the arrangements with my accounts manager for the money transfer to occur when the painting arrived. Then gathering my coat and purse I went into the early evening to pick up some last minute little items filled with happiness and glowing with excitement.
************************************
I arrived at the penthouse an hour early to make sure that the staff had the refreshments set out for Michael's associates to my specifications. Of course everything was perfect, a tray of nibbles and a bottle of wine with two glasses, the fireplace was roaring and all I had to do was one last little thing. Dropping the envelope containing Michael's hefty check onto the mantle I removed my coat and got down to business.
Walking through the door that separated the main area from our private rooms I headed to the large steel door in the corner. On the keypad to the left of the door I typed in the code to release the lock, hearing the beeps and shifting of the gears, then pushed it open to reveal the small soundproof room.
Humans would look at this private area and think immediately of a morgue, but it is more adequately compared to a abattoir, because really that's what it is even though we jokingly called it "the Kitchen". Walking to the sink in the corner I opened the cupboard above it. Reaching for the supply of Rohypnol that we keep for special occasions and the keyring that is always beside the bottle. I pocket the sedative and start looking through the keys until I find the small ones that I need. Leaning my hip against the sink my mind drifts to my husband and how happy he will be when he unwraps the painting.
Shaking my head to wake myself from my daydream, I slide the meat hooks that hang from the ceiling...yep still move. A peek into the drain in the middle of the floor...nope, nothing in there. Pulling on the two sets of shackles attached high on the walls opposite sides of the room...yep still secure. I take the first key and release the padlock on a steal loop embedded into the wall dead center of the first set of shackles but a foot and a half above them. Taking the second key I unlock the cuffs so that they are left to dangle free. I follow the same checking procedure on the other wall.
Everything was perfect, just like always. I leave the room with the door open since closing it would only hinder me later. I go back to the living room, pulling out the bottle of pills as I move to the platter of food that was so delicious looking. Standing in front of the of the spread I shake four of the pills out into my hand. Taking two pills between my thumbs and forefingers I crush them into the wine glasses, watching as the powder fell neatly into the bottom of each goblet. As I dusted my fingers off the doorbell rang and chills ran over my skin.
************************************
"Are these razor cuts?"
"Yes I would say that they are."
The painting, my painting was laid out and looked as if it had been in a war. "I didn't expect that it would be ruined Mick" my accent strong as I worked to control my anger "and what is with this other shite" I asked nodding my head toward a pile of other works of art. "Why would they take a Napoleonic finial? Or a...is that a Manet?"
"I don't know Bhan, I really don't know why they took all of these things" Micheal leaned toward me and whispered so low that only those of our kind could have heard "I would have done them in but thought that you would want the pleasure after I saw the state of your painting."
I knew that he was lying and he knew that I knew that he was lying, laughing I said "Mick, your talent for covering your own backside is enviable. And you know that they can't hear you from the kitchen."
He chuckled and asked "If I hadn't brought them to you Siobhan, would it be me chained up in your 'kitchen' tonight?"
"No, I would be explaining to Jules why we no longer had a Persian carpet in this room" I said coldly.
"I'm sorry Bhan, I should have just acquired the painting myself. Tell you what, the next acquisition is free" he said with a huge smile.
"I would rather just have you owe me a favor Mick."
Sighing and shaking his head with a laugh "Alright love, I owe you" he said as he picked up his things and left.
****************************************
"Do you take drugs?"
"Please lady, please just let me go?"
"Answer my question."
"What...I don't know"
"You don't know if you take drugs?"
"Wha...yeah I do a little coke."
"Have you done 'a little coke' tonight? And think before you answer me, because your friend lied he did 'a lot of coke' and if there is one thing on this planet that you do not want to see it's me even higher than I am right now!"
"Am I going to live?"
"If you don't lie to me, you have more of a chance to live."
"I did a lot of coke. Just like him."
"You silly things and your vices. You know when I was human, I never touched anything that would alter my vision of reality. They even called me 'Arthur's little Black Sheep'...my sister's were all addicts. But then is like now, same as always, people never change."
"Lady, what are you talking about!"
"I was talking about my sisters you fool. All three of them were vice-ridden. Two on opiates and one on the drink...Your friend isn't dead. He may look like he is, but he isn't...he's just dangling."
"Please, please let me go?"
"How long does it take for the drug to leave you?"
"I don't know, just please let me go?"
"Can't. You were never going to live past tonight you know. Once you took this job, you were set to die. The fact that you ruined the one thing that I wanted most with a razor...that just meant that your death will take a lot longer that was planned."
And with that he started to cry.
***********************************************
Humans would look at this private area and think immediately of a morgue, but it is more adequately compared to a abattoir, because really that's what it is even though we jokingly called it "the Kitchen". Walking to the sink in the corner I opened the cupboard above it. Reaching for the supply of Rohypnol that we keep for special occasions and the keyring that is always beside the bottle. I pocket the sedative and start looking through the keys until I find the small ones that I need. Leaning my hip against the sink my mind drifts to my husband and how happy he will be when he unwraps the painting.
Shaking my head to wake myself from my daydream, I slide the meat hooks that hang from the ceiling...yep still move. A peek into the drain in the middle of the floor...nope, nothing in there. Pulling on the two sets of shackles attached high on the walls opposite sides of the room...yep still secure. I take the first key and release the padlock on a steal loop embedded into the wall dead center of the first set of shackles but a foot and a half above them. Taking the second key I unlock the cuffs so that they are left to dangle free. I follow the same checking procedure on the other wall.
Everything was perfect, just like always. I leave the room with the door open since closing it would only hinder me later. I go back to the living room, pulling out the bottle of pills as I move to the platter of food that was so delicious looking. Standing in front of the of the spread I shake four of the pills out into my hand. Taking two pills between my thumbs and forefingers I crush them into the wine glasses, watching as the powder fell neatly into the bottom of each goblet. As I dusted my fingers off the doorbell rang and chills ran over my skin.
************************************
"Are these razor cuts?"
"Yes I would say that they are."
The painting, my painting was laid out and looked as if it had been in a war. "I didn't expect that it would be ruined Mick" my accent strong as I worked to control my anger "and what is with this other shite" I asked nodding my head toward a pile of other works of art. "Why would they take a Napoleonic finial? Or a...is that a Manet?"
"I don't know Bhan, I really don't know why they took all of these things" Micheal leaned toward me and whispered so low that only those of our kind could have heard "I would have done them in but thought that you would want the pleasure after I saw the state of your painting."
I knew that he was lying and he knew that I knew that he was lying, laughing I said "Mick, your talent for covering your own backside is enviable. And you know that they can't hear you from the kitchen."
He chuckled and asked "If I hadn't brought them to you Siobhan, would it be me chained up in your 'kitchen' tonight?"
"No, I would be explaining to Jules why we no longer had a Persian carpet in this room" I said coldly.
"I'm sorry Bhan, I should have just acquired the painting myself. Tell you what, the next acquisition is free" he said with a huge smile.
"I would rather just have you owe me a favor Mick."
Sighing and shaking his head with a laugh "Alright love, I owe you" he said as he picked up his things and left.
****************************************
"Do you take drugs?"
"Please lady, please just let me go?"
"Answer my question."
"What...I don't know"
"You don't know if you take drugs?"
"Wha...yeah I do a little coke."
"Have you done 'a little coke' tonight? And think before you answer me, because your friend lied he did 'a lot of coke' and if there is one thing on this planet that you do not want to see it's me even higher than I am right now!"
"Am I going to live?"
"If you don't lie to me, you have more of a chance to live."
"I did a lot of coke. Just like him."
"You silly things and your vices. You know when I was human, I never touched anything that would alter my vision of reality. They even called me 'Arthur's little Black Sheep'...my sister's were all addicts. But then is like now, same as always, people never change."
"Lady, what are you talking about!"
"I was talking about my sisters you fool. All three of them were vice-ridden. Two on opiates and one on the drink...Your friend isn't dead. He may look like he is, but he isn't...he's just dangling."
"Please, please let me go?"
"How long does it take for the drug to leave you?"
"I don't know, just please let me go?"
"Can't. You were never going to live past tonight you know. Once you took this job, you were set to die. The fact that you ruined the one thing that I wanted most with a razor...that just meant that your death will take a lot longer that was planned."
And with that he started to cry.
***********************************************
