Will took it, and of course, he fumbled it. They both lunged for it, nearly cracking their heads together as theyjuststopped the bird from hitting (and no doubt denting) the hardwood floor.
Will managed to get it into a football hold, though, and he smirked at Cole. “Guess you weren’t kidding—itisheavy!”
Cole rolled his eyes as he sat up again. At least Will was careful with it now, cradling it gently as he inspected everything from the finish to the stone’s setting.
“So there could be thousands of fakes out there,” Cole said to Lilith. “How do we know if we’ve found the real one?”
“You probably won’t,” she said. “They’re a lot like fake Rolexes. Some are incredibly obvious. Some can only be differentiated from the real ones by a very well-trained eye.”
“Which apparently Alders doesn’t have,” Will mused as he carefully put the Puffin on a stack of papers.
“On the contrary,” Lilith said. “Whether he has a trained eye or not, hedoeshave the real Iberian Puffin. Or at least he did before last night. He just displayed the fake one while he was showing off his collection to his friends.”
“But why was that piece fake when everything else was real?” Will asked.
“Almost everything else,” Cole said. When they both looked at him, he added, “There was a Ming Dynasty jar that I’m absolutely certain was fake. Everything else? Checked out as near as I could tell.” Still, a sour taste formed in Cole’s mouth. He hated that after one piece in Alders’s collection had jumped out at him as fake, it hadn’t made him stop to question if the Puffin was authentic. Some counterfeits were indeed subtle (barring the ones created by his wannabe artist ex-boyfriend), but there were usually tells.
In his defense, he’d just been casually perusing the other pieces on display. He’d been there on a job, looking to abscond with one specific piece, so he hadn’t been scrutinizing the others; it was by sheer chance he’d briefly noticed the smudge on the little Ming Dynasty pot. Then he’d assumed the pot was a fluke because so many other pieces were authentic.
Apparently he should’ve taken the pot as a sign to thoroughly inspect the Puffin, just to be safe, because he’d very nearly run off with the hobby shop special. Fuck.
“There’s another issue,” Will said. “Last night, we weren’t the only ones there to get the Puffin.” He paused. “Or, well, there was at least one other person there who was trying to get it, because he’s the one who dropped it and broke it. But there were other known art thieves there. Possibly others we didn’t recognize.”
Cole was nodding as Will spoke. “And two of the other thieves are definitely on Marcus’s shitlist, same as us. And he’s the one who tipped us off. So, whoever took the real thing—it’sgotta be another one of Marcus’s enemies. Someone who had better intel than we did and knew the real Puffin wouldn’t be rolled out last night.”
Lilith gave a single slow nod as she took in the information.
“The place was crawling with cops, too,” Will supplied. “I think he was trying to get us caught. Cull the competition, you know?Maybeone of us would get out with the Puffin, but odds were good that whoever tried would get caught. Jansen Mortimer was arrested. Some of the others might’ve been, too. It looked like Eli Quinn was working with Jansen, and the cops were going after him, but…” He shook his head. “Things were happening pretty fast at that point, so I’m not sure.”
“That sounds on-brand for Marcus,” Lilith said dryly. “Since he can’t compete as well as he’d like, he’ll do what he can to reduce the competition.”
Cole chuckled. “I’m surprised he didn’t hunt down the people accepted into that art school and break their fingers or something.”
“Don’t give him any ideas.” Lilith sat back, arms folded loosely across her blouse. “It does make sense for him. Stealing such a high-profile piece from such a high-profile collector is risky under the best of circumstances. Throwing half a dozen thieves into the same venue after the same piece, they’re bound to get caught. Or try to stop each other andthenget caught.”
“Exactly,” Will said.
Cole shifted in his chair. “So we need to figure out what his MO was, where the real Puffin is, and what Marcus’snextmove is to thin the competition.”
“For starters,” Will said, “one of my colleagues is looking into the real Puffin’s theft. The police are quietly investigating, so he’s seeing if he can get his hands on Alders’s CCTV footage—and then… I guess we’ll know one way or the other.”
Cole scratched the back of his neck. “Either way, there’ssomethinggoing on. And you’ve got a bead on more shit happening in this world than we do, Lilith, so we wanted to get your input.”
She pressed her elbows onto some papers and steepled her fingers as she peered at her Puffin paperweight. “We should consider that Marcus himself might have stolen the Puffin.”
Cole and Will both laughed. Hard.
“Marcus?” Cole waved his hand. “Oh, God no. He’s a worse art thief than he is an artist, and that says a lot.” He’d managed to steal some pieces, including some valuable ones, but that had more to do with dumb luck and bad security than anything.
Will actually had to wipe his eyes. “Marcus. Being stealthy and patient enough to break into a vault… oh, that’s good. That’s seriously good.”
Lilith wasn’t laughing, though she didn’t seem irritated with their amusement. “Be careful underestimating him. After all, he did convince the two of you to date himandto attend last night’s party.”
Cole sobered. Then Will did. She… wasn’t wrong.
“A piece like thatwouldbe quite the jewel in Marcus’s crown,” she continued. “And it would make him an indelible part of the Puffin’s lore.”
With a dry chuckle, Cole said, “That sounds like him—not just stealing something he could sell for a mint, but making himself part of a centuries-old legend.”
