The Blacklock Mysteries

Scott rubbed his eyes and said, "There has to be something we’ve missed. Some clue. Let’s think about Stoltzkin. He’s a man of style. He likes things done with flair. Right?"

Katherine replied, "We know who Stoltzkin is. I think I read his file about a hundred times yesterday. Karl Stoltzkin, fifty seven. Emigrated from Russia in the fifties. Studied Philosophy and has written two books about the classic philosophers. He's a shrewd businessman. During the seventies he became a corporate shareholder in almost half of the firms in the financial district. In the eighties, he set up his own art foundation. In the nineties, he became a trustee to three major art galleries and two museums. And now, if you can believe it, he also owns three high class restaurants named after his favourite philosophers that serve fine European cuisine! He lives the high life, has practically a palace at his estate as well as seven other houses around the world, in Japan, South America, Europe. I could go on..." Katherine said, catching her breath, before finishing, "And yet somehow in fifty minutes, he’s going to make Zirconia write him a cheque for two hundred and forty nine million dollars!"

Scott chewed on his pencil, deep in thought. Katherine looked at him.

"Scott, did you hear any of what I just said?

Scott looked up. "No I was listening very carefully. Why did you mention his restaurants?"

Katherine looked surprised for a second, and then said, "Well, I’ve eaten in two of them. Fantastic food."

"Which ones?"

She replied, "Socrates, in the Upper East Side. And Diogenes on Mercer St. in SoHo. Why?"

"Do you think he could have his collection stored there?"

Katherine got up and said, "Scott, everything Golic had found out pointed to Stoltzkin’s estate as it was out of the city and secluded, while his penthouse or any of his properties in the city were considered too close to his art gallery."

Scott argued, "Maybe he was on to Golic and was diverting him? Just bear with me, do you think he could have stored them at one of his restaurants?"

Katherine pictured them in her mind. "Well Socrates is a very small, intimate place, with the kitchen in view. Diogenes is larger, but it’s filled with huge beer barrels, and the kitchens are all out of view. They may have storage in the floors above, and I suppose either could have cellars?

Scott’s chewing became more frantic for a second, and then the pencil dropped.

"Barrels?" he asked.

Katherine looked perplexed: "Yeah."

"Doesn’t it make sense that if Stoltzkin was going to pull a stunt like this, he’d want to put his own signature on it?"

"I suppose. Where are you going with this?" Katherine said warily.

"I don’t claim to know a lot about philosophers but didn’t Diogenes live in a barrel?"

Katherine explained, "Yeah, that’s kind of why the barrels are there. Barrels, Diogenes, it is a theme restaurant. Diogenes and his family fled to Athens when his father was accused of forgery. There he met the philosopher Antisthenes who eventually let him become his pupil. He had no house or possessions and lived in a barrel, but all who saw him were attracted by the beauty and majesty of him. The story’s something like that."

Scott looked impressed. He asked, "I didn’t realise you were up on your philosophers?"

Katherine blushed and admitted, "It was written on the back of the menus in there. That’s about what I could remember."

Scott chuckled, "So Diogenes lived in the barrel…."

"You said that."

"INSIDE the barrel." Scott emphasized.

"Oh." Katherine finally saw where Scott was going. "The art!"

Scott swirled in his chair and picked up the Stoltzkin file where Katherine had put it down. He said: "Wouldn’t it be the perfect ploy to use Diogenes to slowly ship his collection out to Europe? He would love the audacity of it."

Katherine for the first time in the last twenty four hours looked alive as she realised that Scott’s theory could be true. But something held her back. "Scott, we’re still never going to be able to get a second warrant on one of Stoltzkin’s properties."

Scott ignored her and kept on reading.

Katherine continued: "And besides, we have less than an hour."

Scott pored over the file and then ran over to Katherine’s desk and searched through her paperwork. Katherine followed him: "What are you doing?"

Scott found what he was looking for, checked it again and looked up at Katherine:

"While you’ve been worrying about second warrants and the like, I’ve just checked that all of Stoltzkin’s restaurant supplies come from the Newark docks, where it gets delivered on a cargo ship from Rotterdam, Holland."

He then handed Katherine what he had found on her desk. He continued, "And your background check tells us that one of Stoltzkin's properties is a house in Rotterdam. It would be the perfect place to use his contacts to get discreet buyers and then sell it out through Europe."

Katherine looked down at her background check, seeing the pieces falling into place.

She looked up: "Scott, we still can’t....."

But Scott was already out the door and running for the elevator.

As Scott ran out of the foyer onto the street, he was momentarily surprised to be struck by heavy rain. He allowed himself a brief moment of irony that the glorious weather would choose to break today. On the morning that he now had to try and get a cab to a restaurant over thirteen blocks away, illegally break in, find a hidden art collection, and get back again. In rush hour traffic. And in thirty seven minutes.