“And Roman Block wasn’t planning on leaving any witnesses.” Cam finished the thought.
“That explains the assassination of Elizabeth Brewer. Block wanted to tie up loose ends. The assassin sets up across the street but Elizabeth Brewer breaks into Calliope’s home, and the hitter confuses Elizabeth for Calliope.” Nathan voiced their conclusion.
“But Block still failed to get the phone and locate the money. So...” Ren mimed a gunshot to the head.
“Exactly, the head of The Circle, Loker Stillwater, decided to take matters into his own hands.”
Calliope had a brief flash of the carnage in her house just days ago. It must have shown on her face because Nathan soothed, “Calliope, there is not a doubt in my mind that the men Loker Stillwater sent to your house would have killed you and Tox whether or not they found that phone.”
She nodded her understanding.
Nathan kept them on track. Calliope wasn’t out of the woods yet.
“That settles the issue of the people after the money. Now we have to solve the issue of the people after the art.”
“A much less ruthless bunch.” Cam pointed out.
“Maybe. Maybe not.” Nathan wasn’t convinced of that.
Twitch brought up a still shot of a man in a suit.
“The Feebies finally shared the security footage from Gentrify. This is Caleb Cain.”
“And who is Caleb Cain?” Steady asked.
“Hold that thought.” She split the screen with another photo. “This is from security cams at Columbia University. Your suspicious antiquities professor? Same guy. I ran facial recognition through all accessible security.” Another photo created a tryptic. “The DUMBO ferry pinged this guy.” The picture showed an old man boarding, and again, minus one prosthetic nose and fake beard, disembarking.
“That’s the old man who claimed to be my neighbor,” Calliope exclaimed.
“And when he searched your house, he bypassed the flash drive and files that were sitting out, so we know he’s not after the financial info.”
“He’s not after the money. He’s after the art,” Cam nodded.
“But if Elizabeth Brewer is dead, why is he still looking for it?” Calliope asked.
“Other than the fact that it’s worth a fortune?” Steady shrugged.
“Guys like that don’t tend to go off-script. I think he’s working for someone else,” Nathan said.
“Well, Elizabeth Brewer was buying that art from someone. That’s how this whole shit show started. The poker game in Vegas.” Steady tossed a pencil on the table.
“The courier hired to deliver the sketches loses them in a poker game,” Cam added.
“And Phipps Van Gent wins them without even realizing it.” Ren finished the thought.
“Makes sense. The seller lost the package before delivery. He wants it back.”
“Enter Caleb Cain. He showed up at Gentrify that night to get that art.”
“And instead finds a dead body.”
“And no art.”
“So he goes hunting.”
“I lost my wallet on Broad Street that night.” Calliope’s eyes didn’t drift from the photo on the screen.
Steady snapped his fingers. “That’s right. He was probably right behind us. It’s not a stretch that he found the wallet. Got your address off your driver’s license.”