Chapter 9: Ever since he’d first heard about the exhibition, Brian knew this had to be the one. The painting would only be on show for three days and he’d been planning it the last few weeks; not nearly enough time, but it would have to do. Thankfully, he knew the gallery as he’d been there a few times with Paul, but he’d still have to check it out and identify the location of the painting; it had been many years and the layout might have changed, which was why he was here on the first day, mingling with art lovers, fascinated to see the most expensive painting in the world. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Justin tried checking out the local hotels, but either Brian wasn’t in any of the more decent ones or he’d checked in under an assumed name. His only chance was to see if he showed up at the gallery, which is where Justin headed on the first day of the exhibition. He thought he’d caught sight of him, but the gallery was crowded; people were waiting in line and only so many allowed through at any one time and having to leave by another exit. By the time Justin got inside he lost track of him. Concealed within sight of the building, Justin kept watch on the gallery once the doors had closed each night, but there had been no sign of Brian. The final day of the exhibition had arrived and if Brian had intended to hit the gallery, tonight would be his last chance. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Checking in using an alias, Brian had paid cash for his room. A few phone calls had been made and final arrangements were now in place. This time he needed accomplices including one inside the building and, as before, they would get their money once Brian was away and clear. At 11:15, a nondescript cargo van was parked out front of the small hotel; the keys left on top of the front nearside tire. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ The gallery opening hours were extended for the last night, with the cleaning crew coming on at 11:30 and, at the same time, the painting was due to be crated up and transported back to it’s normal home. Now dressed in the appropriate Vista Cleaning uniform and with a fake security pass, Brian was simply going to join the crew and, once inside, an arranged power failure would just provide the small window of opportunity needed to hopefully create enough confusion to allow him and his accomplice to remove the painting. This was hiding in plain view, not sneaking around clad in black from head to toe; this was far bolder with no thought that his face might be known. Brian decided that no one would ever think that going after this painting was remotely possible. It was far too daring and too preposterous. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ The clouds had parted, allowing the moonlight to partially illuminate the alley to the rear of the building where Brian had parked, preparing to make his way inside. He’d taken just a few steps away from the vehicle when suddenly he was grabbed by the elbow and pulled in to the shadows: his assailant pushing him up against the wall and clamping a hand over his mouth. Two armed guards had exited the gallery and were joking with each other as they came down the steps and outside for a quick smoke and loitered for a few moments just a few feet from where Brian was held captive. “Do you think this Kinney guy’s gonna show?” asked the first guard, lighting his cigarette. His companion lent forward, lighting his own cigarette from the same match, taking a slow drag before answering. “He’d be nuts if he did ... but if he does try anything ... we’ll be ready for him”. And the two men moved off around the corner of the building and out of sight. The initial shock of being forcibly held gave way to horror as Brian heard the guards’ words. Once they had gone, the man holding him slowly released his grip and stepped back into the moonlight just sufficiently enough to allow Brian to make him out; he was dressed in dark clothing and wearing a ski mask, which he now removed. “Justin?” Brian stared at him and utter disbelief, struggling for words. “Wha … what the fuck are you doing here?” he whispered. “Trying to save your ass”, the blond whispered back at him. Speaking low, Justin continued. “They’re waiting for you Brian ... there’s armed security guards everywhere. You try anything and …” Justin left the words unsaid; the consequences too awful to consider. “How did you know I’d be here?” “Cynthia called me. The way you left before worried her and then she saw an article about this exhibition. This is just about the dumbest thing you’ve ever done ... you’d never be able to sell the painting ... even if you got away with it”. “I know”, answered Brian. “But they’d pay damn well to get it back … I never expected to be able to sell it on”, but Justin’s tone brought home to him stupidity of what he was doing and Brian looked away. Justin grabbed his arm and turned him around to face him. He was pleading with him. “Leave Brian ... get back in the van and drive away. This has to be the end of it ... here and now. Go!” Justin hesitated. There was so much more he wanted to say, but lingering further would put them both in even more danger. He turned to walk away, having done what he came to do. Brian knew he was right, but the fact that Justin has risked his own safety to warn him left him confused and he caught him by the arm to stop him. “Thanks … you took a chance to warn me like this ... even though I don’t quite understand why”. Justin turned back to face him. “Don’t you?” he asked and without waiting for Brian’s answer he stepped forward and reached up. He kissed him. Coming to his senses, realizing how perilously close they both were to being caught, Justin pulled back. Brian looked deeply into Justin’s eyes, attempting to read what they were saying in the moonlight and his heart missed a beat at what he saw there. But before he had a chance to speak further, the blond pulled away from him and quickly retreated down the alley leading back onto the street, his head down and his collar turned up. Looking around quickly to make sure no one was in sight, Brian climbed back in the van and started the engine; moving off slowly. Reaching the end of the alley, Justin took a deep breath before stepping back out on to the street, startled to hear his name as he did so. “Taylor ... what are you doing here?” Dan called to him from the open window of a dark sedan parked on the other side of the street. Recovering quickly, Justin walked over to him. “Hi Dan, I thought I’d just take a walk over … see if anything was gonna happen tonight after all”. Crossing the street, Justin went around the car and leaned down to speak to the man through the window. As he did so, he saw the vehicle that now exited the alleyway and drove off sedately. He sighed; Brian was safe. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Once he reached home, Justin phoned the number Cynthia had left with him. It was late, but she’d want to know what had happened. “Hello”, sleepily, Cynthia answered her cell phone. “Cynthia, it’s Justin”. “Justin, what’s happened? Did you get to him?” “He’s okay ... he walked away from it”. “Thank god. Did he say what he was going to do?” “No, we didn’t get a chance. Will you let me know if he shows up back in Pittsburgh?” “Sure and thanks Justin … for everything. I think I know how much it cost you”. Saying their goodbyes, they both hung up. The cost for Justin was very high indeed. Just seeing the man again, even for a few minutes, re-established exactly what he felt for him. Feelings he knew would come to nothing and hoped he’d one day get over. But it wouldn’t be easy. Brian had stolen his heart. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Two weeks later: -------------------- Justin hadn’t got one night’s decent sleep since his encounter with Brian; his slumbers constantly interrupted by his dreams of the man. Forgetting him was turning out to be a lot harder than he thought and made even tougher after another conversation with Cynthia. She’d called him from Pittsburgh the night before. There’d been contact from Brian with a message to say he was okay and that he’d be in touch again soon and for her not to worry. The message was delivered along with an envelope and she needed to see Justin. She wouldn’t talk about it over the phone, but she sounded both concerned and excited at the news she said she had. Now, sitting across from him in his office, she passed him the envelope. “This was hand-delivered yesterday”. “What is it?” asked Justin, taking it from her. “Before you open it ... I’ve got news. If you decide to do what I think you will ... then what I’ve got to tell you could make all the difference”. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ An hour later, after Cynthia had left, Justin turned the envelope over in his hand. Eventually summoning up the courage, he opened it. Knocking quietly on his door, Daphne came in with a cup of coffee, which she placed on the desk in front of him. “What have you got there?” she asked, as Justin took the plane ticket out of the envelope. He opened it; it was in his name. Looking over his shoulder, she studied the destination. “Where the hell’s that?” she asked him and Justin looked at her and shrugged. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ One week later: ------------------- If he hadn’t slept before, he certainly wasn’t now. What Cynthia told him certainly could change every thing and he’d struggled with the decision, his heart torn between what Brian was asking him to do and the pure heady romanticism of it. But, thinking with his head as well as his heart, Justin need to know exactly what they might face, so, picking up the phone, he called an old friend. “Pete Nolan”, came the voice that answered the call. “Pete, it’s Justin”. “Hi Justin ... good to hear from you. We should get together soon … do a couple of clubs may be?” “That would be nice Pete ... but I’m actually calling for some advice”. “Sure ... shall we fix a time for you to come in?” “Well ... actually ... I was hoping to talk off the record?” “Hmm, sounds interesting. Okay … where shall we meet?” “How about that little Italian place just around the corner from your office ... say about 1:00 today?” “That urgent huh? Okay … I can make it ... see you then”. Justin was already seated at the table when Pete arrived. “Okay, so what’s so secretive you can’t come into the office?” asked Peter Nolan, District Attorney, as he took his seat and picked up the menu. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ He looked out at sea again. He’d come here every night for the past ten days to watch the sun go down: ten days and no news. Maybe there wouldn’t be any. Maybe he was living on false hope. But what he’d seen in Justin’s eyes that night made him realize what he was giving up. Brian had already arranged for a false passport and had left the US the same night as his aborted robbery attempt. He had access to the special bank account, but that wouldn’t last long and besides there were still people who needed the money held there. What he would do after that was gone he didn’t know and he couldn’t think that far ahead. Not until he knew where he stood with Justin. He didn’t deserve him, how he’d treated him, but knowing how he’d risked his own safety, his life even, to come and warn him, to save him, he’d come to realize the depth of Justin’s love for him. Love he didn’t think he would ever find again. The airport was on the main island and the small ferry boat came over every day. The seaplane came along every now and again to deliver mail and vital supplies when the sea conditions weren’t favorable, otherwise most everything else came in by boat. The only scheduled flight that day would have arrived over four hours ago and by now the last ferry would already have come in for the night. Brian would come back again tomorrow and the night after and the night after that, until he could accept that Justin wasn’t going to show. He’d taken a small house, one of only a dozen or so on the island and it was very quiet and very beautiful and within a few minutes walking distance of the shore and now, lost in thought, Brian sat on the rocks: the waves crashing around him. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Justin looked once more at the note that had been with the ticket. It said only a few words. “I should never have sent you away. It’s now up to you. Brian” After his meeting with Pete, Justin had gone back to the office. It was only fair that he talked to Daphne; tell her what he was planning to do. She’d hugged him and cried, saying for him not to worry about her; she would be just fine. So now, here he was, looking out of the window as the seaplane skimmed the surface of the water, moving towards the jetty. He’d arrived at the airport to find that the ferry to the small island had broken down and wouldn’t run for at least another day. He was desperate until someone told him that for a fee, the pilot of the seaplane would take him over. Later than he hoped to get in, the light was fading by the time they arrived. Grabbing his bag, Justin jumped down from the plane. There were only a few homes on the island, along with one small hotel and bar and a small general store. It was a quiet hideaway and only a few tourists knew of its existence. How hard could Brian be to find? Trying to find his bearings, Justin decided the best thing to do was make for the hotel. It was getting late and it would be far easier to find Brian in daylight. Making his way along the dirt road, he suddenly stopped stock-still. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Brian was so lost in his own thoughts he failed to take much notice of the seaplane as it came into shore as visitors normally only came over by boat. Aware of a figure now coming towards him, he turned quickly: wary of a threat. But, getting to his feet, he became rooted to the spot, as suddenly the man he’d been thinking of was barely a few feet away. Justin dropped his bag and ran the last distance between them and Brian at last was able to move forward to meet him. He swept him up in his arms before placing Justin back on his feet and kissing him. “I thought you weren’t coming”, breathed Brian, his heart soaring as he was now holding Justin tightly to him. Pulling slightly away, Brian moved in for another kiss, but Justin stopped him. “We have to talk”. “Now? Can’t it wait?” asked Brian. Now Justin was here, all he wanted to do was kiss him; make love to him. But the blond took him by the hand and lead him back to the rocks and he sat, pulling Brian down beside him. “There is so much I have to tell and it might change everything”. “What are you talking about?” asked Brian. “Firstly ... Cynthia told me to tell you that the house is sold. It went for $2 million dollars and half of it should now be in your account”. Brian whistled under his breath. “$2 mil? I didn’t think it would go for that much”. Justin grinned at him. “You haven’t heard the best of it”. “You remember the jewelery that belonged to Cynthia’s Mother? Well ... it went for auction”. “Did she get a good price for it?” Brian asked and was rewarded with an even bigger grin. “Did you know that one of their great-great-Grandfather’s had been Ambassador to Moscow before the revolution?” Justin asked him. Brian nodded. “Yeah ... I remember Paul saying something about it … why?” Justin couldn’t disguise the excitement in his voice as he spoke. “The jewelery had been a gift from the Tsar ... Nicholas … Cynthia found the letter that had been sent with it. You won’t believe the interest it attracted … from all over the world”. He squeezed Brian’s hand. “It sold for just over $4.8 million”. “What?” This was all too much to take in, the implications only just now dawning. “You mean … the money was there … all along?” asked Brian and Justin nodded. “Not only that ... now there’s a lot of interest in Paul’s work and Cynthia’s had a couple of galleries contact her. She said she won’t do anything if you don’t want her to ... but they’d like to exhibit all of Paul’s art”. Justin took a deep breath before he continued. “Cynthia’s going to create the Paul Sheridan Foundation. She’s putting her share of the house and the $4 million from the jewelery into starting it up. It will provide help and support to numerous people who need it .. plus it will also be used to encourage and nurture talented young artists”, and he squeezed Brian’s hand. “I’m sure it’s just what Paul would have wanted”. Brian closed his eyes and shook his head in disbelief. With the money from the sale of the house and jewelery invested properly, there would have been enough funds after all to carry out the work that Brian had undertaken in Paul’s name, without needing to resort to the art thefts. And this would be a wonderful opportunity for Paul’s art to be seen by people who would appreciate it. “$4 million? What about the rest?” asked Brian, suddenly realizing the discrepancy. “She’s put that into your account ... which leads me to my next piece of news”. Justin hesitated, not knowing how Brian would react to this. “Before I left ... I spoke to a friend of mine in the D.A.’s office … “ Brian withdrew his hand and made to get up, but Justin pulled him back down. “Wait ... listen to what he said”. Sighing, Brian sat back down and folded his hands in his lap and stared out to sea as he waited to hear what Justin had to say. “If you turn yourself in ... tell them who you sold the paintings to ... chances are you’ll do little or no time … or at the most spend time in minimum security”. “Think about it Brian, in a year ... two at the most and with the best lawyers … this could all be over … you could start again. Cynthia’s going to need someone to run the foundation ... I don’t think it’s going to be long before she wants to start a family of her own”. Brian looked at him, trying to take in what he was saying and he could see the pleading in Justin’s eyes and could feel the possession of his heart passing to the man who sat beside him. Lowering his head, he eventually spoke. “If I did … turn myself in … would you wait for me?” Justin put his hand under Brian’s chin and brought him round to face him. “I’d wait forever ... if I had to” he whispered. Brian could see the tears in Justin’s eyes and feel his own threatening to spill over. “What about you”, he asked him. “If it gets out ... about you and me … you couldn’t go back to what you were doing”. Justin smiled. “Then I’ll go chase my dreams again … go back to my art. Find out once and for all how good I am … how good I could be”. Brian smiled. This was his chance to get his life back: a life that could be something so wonderful with Justin by his side. To be apart now for a couple of years was something he dreaded, but to know Justin would wait for him would get him through. “I love you”, he whispered and Justin whispered back. “I love you too”. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ In a few days, Brian would return to the US and hand himself in, but for now, this was time they would treasure forever as, taking Justin in his arms once more, Brian pulled him gently down onto the firm, white sand. As the color of the setting sun deepened, spreading its reddish hue around them, they made love to the sound of the waves pounding against the shore. Two hearts had been stolen, but would now remain with their rightful owners forever. The end. Sept. 21st 2004 On an historic note (or just another piece of useless information): After the 1917 Revolution, the first ambassador to the Soviet Union, following its formal recognition by the U.S. in 1933, was born in the state of Pennsylvania.