Free Drawn in Blood by Andrea Kane Page B

rich. He is an art dealer, so it stands to reason that he has a few decent pieces in his place. But Eric Hu never set foot in that apartment, and his company never serviced Burbank’s computers. So how would they know?”
    “Let’s play devil’s advocate. Let’s say they read or overheard something that made them think Burbank had more than he did, and that they tipped off Xiao Long, who had his gang break in and rob the place.”
    “Fine. So they saw the Monet and ripped it off. Makes sense. Monet’s famous, even though you said it wasn’t one of his wel -known works. But they’re not connoisseurs. So they grabbed it, along with a bunch of other pieces that had more sentimental than actual value. In addition to that…” For the tenth time, Derek studied the list of stolen items the cops provided. “We’re talking standard household stuff—a flat-screen TV, a couple laptops, a set of silverware, a pair of diamond studs, and a gold necklace. Nothing close to the haul they got from the other thefts. And what bugs me most is that the rest of what they took smacks of camouflage—a DVD player they could get for seventy-five bucks at Best Buy, a hundred-dol ar men’s watch they could buy on the Internet for less, and a whole slew of knickknacks. They spent more time trashing the place than robbing it.”
    “You think they were looking for something else.”
    “Yeah. And I think they were disguising that search as a burglary. Why else would our wiretap catch Xiao Long getting word about finalizing a deal with an old art dealer on East Eighty-second?”
    “Could be payback for anything,” Rich suggested.
    “Right,” Derek returned drily. “And it could be coincidence that the very next morning you had an appointment to interview Burbank about a dirty art deal.”
    “Which we have no reason to believe he was involved in.” Rich pursed his lips. “Look, Derek, I understand how frustrated you are. But I haven’t found the connection you’re looking for. The painting Burbank sold was genuine. As for a link between Burbank and Xiao Long, when I slipped in Xiao Long’s name during the Hong Kong portion of our interview, there wasn’t a flicker of recognition. Burbank’s a lousy actor, and I’m a great reader of body language. I’d know if he was hiding something.”
    “Unless he doesn’t know what he’s hiding.”
    Rich shrugged. “We can speculate al day. Al I can say is that, if Burbank’s sale of Dead or Alive to Cai Wen, or if Cai Wen’s murder itself, is in any way tied to your investigation of Xiao Long, I can’t see it. Then again, a kil er and a thief isn’t about to leave a sales receipt. So the gaping hole in our provenance certainly leaves room for a variety of possibilities.”
    “Al the more reason to keep digging into Burbank’s art investment group and the timing of their sale. Please, Rich. I’d consider it a personal favor.”
    “Fine,” Rich agreed, eyeing Derek quizzical y as he spoke. “I’l review each of their interviews. But, just to clarify, are you leaning toward Burbank being a pawn or a criminal?
    I’m getting mixed signals.”

    “That’s because Derek’s giving them off.” Tony leaned forward, interlacing his fingers on his desk. “Rich, would you excuse us for a minute?”
    “Not a problem. Actual y, I’ve got to run anyway.” Rich got to his feet. “I’m waiting for a cal from Interpol.”
    “That museum heist in Munich earlier today?” Tony asked.
    “Yup. Bloody and profitable. Five dead guards. And a haul including a Van Gogh worth about forty mil ion.” Tony whistled. “You’ve got your hands ful .”
    “Always.” Rich headed for the door. “I’l let you know if I find anything in those interviews.”
    “Thanks,” Derek replied.
    He waited until he and Tony were alone. Then, he got right into it. “You want to discuss my objectivity where it comes to this case.”
    “Do you blame me?”
    “Not a bit. And you’re right. I’ve got a