Her Unforgettable Royal Lover(54)
“Certainly.”
Extracting the Canaletto file, she passed each of the officers a copy of the chronology she’d run earlier. “This summarizes my research, step-by-step. As you can see, it began three months ago with a computer search.”
The NTCA officers flipped through the four-sheet printout and exchanged looks. Dom merely smiled.
“If you’ll turn to page three, line thirty-seven,” Natalie continued briskly, “you’ll see that I did a search of recently declassified documents from the Soviet era relating to art treasures owned by the state and found an inventory of items removed from Karlenburgh Castle. The inventory listed more than two dozen near priceless works of art, but not the Canaletto. Yet I knew from previous discussions with Grand Duchess Charlotte that the painting was hanging in the Red Salon the day the Soviets came to destroy the castle.”
She walked them through her search step-by-step. Her decision to drive down from Vienna to interview local residents. Her stop at the ruins and meeting with Friedrich Müller. His reference to an individual who’d inquired previously at the Red Salon.
“Janos Lagy,” the older of the two officers murmured. He skimmed down several lines and looked up quickly. “You spoke with him? You spoke with Lagy about this painting?”
“I did.”
“And arranged to meet with him on a riverboat?”
“That was his idea, not mine. Unfortunately, he didn’t show.”
“Do you have a recording of this conversation?” Officer Czernek asked hopefully. “On your cell phone, perhaps?”
“I lost my purse and phone when I went overboard.”
“Yes, Special Agent St. Sebastian told us about your accident.” A frown etched between her brows. “We also reviewed a copy of the incident report from the metropolitan police. It’s very strange that no one saw you fall from the boat or raised an alarm.”
“I was at the back of the ship and not feeling very well. Also, this happened in the middle of the week. There weren’t many other passengers aboard.”
“Still…”
She and her partner engaged in a brief exchange.
“We, too, have a file,” she said, turning back to Natalie. “Would you be so kind as to look at some pictures and tell me if you recognize any of the people in them?”
She produced a thin folder and slid out three eight-by-tens. One showed a lone figure in a business suit and tie. The second picture was of the same individual in a tux and smiling down at the svelte beauty on his arm. In the third, he strolled along a city street wearing an overcoat and smart fedora.
“Do you recognize that man?” Czernek asked, her gaze intent on Natalie.
She scrutinized the lean features again. The confident smile, the dark eyes and fringe of brown hair around a head going bald on top. She’d never seen him before. She was sure of it.
“No, I don’t recognize him. Is it Lagy?”
The police officer nodded and blew out an obviously disappointed breath. When she reached over to gather the pictures, Natalie had to battle her own crushing disappointment. Lagy’s link to the Canaletto had been tenuous at best but she’d followed thinner threads. Suddenly, she frowned and took another look at the street shot.
“Him!” She stabbed a finger at a figure trailing a little way behind Lagy. “I recognize this man. He was on the boat.”
“Are you sure?”
“Very sure. When I got sick, he asked if he could help but I waved him away. I didn’t want to puke all over his shoes.” She looked up eagerly. “Do you know who he is?”
“He’s Janos Lagy’s bodyguard.”
The air in the small office suddenly simmered with rigidly suppressed excitement. Natalie looked from Czernek to her partner to Dom and back again. All of them, apparently, knew something she didn’t.
“Clue me in,” she demanded. “What have you got on Janos Lagy?”
The officer hesitated. A cop’s natural instinct to hold her cards close to her chest, Natalie guessed. Tough! She wasn’t leaving the NTCA until she got some answers.
“Look,” she said mutinously, “I’ve chased all over Europe tracking the Canaletto. I’ve spent weeks digging through musty records. I whacked my head and took an unplanned swim in the Danube. I didn’t know who I was for almost a week. So I think I deserve an answer. What’s the story on Lagy?”
After another brief pause, Czernek relented. “We’ve had him under surveillance for some time now. We suspect he’s been trafficking in stolen art and have unsubstantiated reports of a private collection kept in a secret vault in his home.”