The Art of Deception

murmured. “Forget it for a while.”
    “No.” She shook her head and managed a weak smile. “I’m fine, really. I’ve been washed and patted and plied with liquor, though I wouldn’t mind another. The police will want to question me.” Her gaze drifted to McIntyre. She didn’t ask, but simply assumed he was with the police. “Do you need to talk to me?”
    It wasn’t until then he realized he’d been staring. Clearing his throat, McIntyre rose. “I’d like to hear your father’s story first, Miss Fairchild.”
    “Wouldn’t we all?” Struggling to find some balance, she walked to her father’s chair. “Are you going to come clean, Papa, or should I hire a shady lawyer?”
    “Unnecessary, my sweet.” He took her hand and held it. “The beginning,” he continued with a smile for McIntyre. “It started, I suppose, a few days before Harriet flew off to Africa. She’s an absentminded woman. She had to return to the gallery one night to pick up some papers she’d forgotten. When she saw the light in Stuart’s office, she started to go in and scold him for working late. Instead she eavesdropped on his phone conversation and learned of his plans to steal the Rembrandt. Absentminded but shrewd, Harriet left and let Stuart think his plans were undetected.” He grinned and squeezed Kirby’s hand. “An intelligent woman, she came directly to a friend known for his loyalty and his sharp mind.”
    “Papa.” With a laugh of relief, she bent over and kissed his head. “You were working together, I should’ve known.”
    “We developed a plan. Perhaps unwisely, we decided not to bring Kirby into it.” He looked up at her. “Should I apologize?”
    “Never.”
    But the fingers brushing over her hand said it for him. “Kirby’s relationship with Stuart helped us along in that decision. And her occasional shortsightedness. That is, when she doesn’t agree with my point of view.”
    “I might take the apology after all.”
    “In any case.” Rising, Fairchild began to wander around the room, hands clasped behind his back. His version of Sherlock Holmes, Kirby decided, and settled back for the show. “Harriet and I both knew Stuart wasn’t capable of constructing and carrying through on a theft like this alone. Harriet hadn’t any idea whom he’d been talking to on the phone, but my name had been mentioned. Stuart had said he’d, ah, ‘feel me out on the subject of producing a copy of the painting.’” His face fell easily into annoyed lines. “I’ve no idea why he should’ve thought a man like me would do something so base, so dishonest.”
    “Incredible,” Adam murmured, and earned a blinding smile from father and daughter.
    “We decided I’d agree, after some fee haggling. I’d then have the original in my possession while palming the copy off on Stuart. Sooner or later, his accomplice would be forced into the open to try to recover it. Meanwhile, Harriet reported the theft, but refused to file a claim. Instead she demanded that the insurance company act with discretion. Reluctantly she told them of her suspicion that I was involved, thereby ensuring that the investigation would be centered around me, and by association, Stuart and his accomplice. I concealed the Rembrandt behind a copy of a painting of my daughter, the original of which is tucked away in my room. I’m sentimental.”
    “Why didn’t Mrs. Merrick just tell the police and the insurance company the truth?” McIntyre demanded after he’d worked his way through the explanation.
    “They might have been hasty. No offense,” Fairchild added indulgently. “Stuart might’ve been caught, but his accomplice would probably have gotten away. And, I confess, it was the intrigue that appealed to both of us. It was irresistible. You’ll want to corroborate my story, of course.”
    “Of course,” McIntyre agreed, and wondered if he could deal with another loony.
    “We’d have done things differently if we’d had any idea that Melanie was involved. It’s going to be difficult for Harriet.” Pausing, he aimed a long look at McIntyre that was abruptly no-nonsense. “Be careful with her. Very careful. You might find our methods unorthodox, but she’s a mother who’s had two unspeakable shocks tonight: her daughter’s betrayal and the possibility of losing her only child.” He ran a hand over Kirby’s hair as he stopped by her. “No matter how deep the hurt, the love remains, doesn’t it, Kirby?”
    “All I