“So, listen, West. I’m going to put my cards on the table, but you’ve got to promise I get the exclusive on this when the case breaks open.”
“I’m not promising anything.” Honesty compelled Jason to add, “At least until I hear what you’ve got.”
Shipka took a moment to think it over. He shrugged. “Okay. I’ll meet you halfway. You’re after Fletcher-Durrand for fraud and grand larceny.”
Jason’s interest sparked. He said steadily, “No comment.”
“I know you are.”
“Then I don’t need to confirm or deny, do I?”
“It’s bigger than you think. It’s not just one or two clients. And it’s not just that the Durrands are dragging their feet on paying the owners for paintings they’ve sold, ostensibly, on their behalf. Whole lots of paintings left in Barnaby’s supposed safekeeping have disappeared. There are people out there who don’t even know their entire art collections are gone.”
Say what? Did Shipka actually have something here?
Jason managed to conceal his surprised interest. He raised an eyebrow and said nothing.
“I’m taking that as confirmation. You know it goes way beyond Barnaby?”
Jason continued to stare at Shipka.
Shipka said earnestly, “Okay, okay. But you need to look beyond Barnaby. You need to look at Shepherd.”
“What would we do without the press?” Jason said. Tell me you’ve got some evidence? Some kind of proof? Please don’t be playing me.
“You don’t have to be sarcastic. If you hadn’t got that far, there was no point me telling you the rest.”
“What is the rest?”
“A missing model and art student by the name of Paris Havemeyer.”
“A missing model?” Jason’s wariness returned. “What are you talking about? What does that mean?”
“Just exactly that,” Shipka said earnestly. “Twenty years ago Havemeyer disappeared and has never been seen since.”
“And this relates to my case how?”
“You care about murder, right?”
Jason said, “I repeat. How does this relate to my case?”
“I don’t know. But it does. Kerk’s murder proves that.”
“You’re going to have to start at the beginning because I have no idea what the hell you’re talking about.”
“I only know that either Barnaby or Shepherd killed Havemeyer. I’m assuming Shepherd.”
“Killed him how? When? Where? Do you have any proof of this?”
“Anything I have would be circumstantial. It’s your job to get real evidence.”
Jason’s laugh was disbelieving. He shook his head, finished his drink, and set it on the table. “Right. Okay. Well, I appreciate your stopping by this evening, Mr. Ship—”
He started to rise, but Shipka said quickly, “Okay! Yes, the Havemeyer thing is kind of an art-world legend, but I believe those stories.”
“Why?”
“Because of the source.”