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Elizabeth and the Burglar: Chapter 1 Reception
Sammy erupted from the SUV and stormed up the stairs. Throwing herself into Señora deSoto’s arms she called: Aunty Isabella, I’m so happy to see you. Daddy said you have ponies and a swimming pool! Is this your house? It is beautiful, like a castle. Are there princesses in that tower?”
The stately lady smiled indulgently and nodded. “There might be one tonight, if we can find the dress to fit you. Is your friend hurt?”
Sammy nodded, looking at Jessica, who had to be helped from the rear seat. “She broke her leg fighting someone. But not bad fighting, see? Like fun and exercise. Pete has to massage it for her every night. She likes that.”
Mrs. deSoto smiled again, then greeted the guests. Soon they were seated under a vine covered pergola on the wide terrace. Terry thanked their hostess for the invitation and for sending the aeroplane for them.
Mrs DeSoto nodded. “Clifford’s latest toy. He claim it actually saves money and is a good investment. I am not yet convinced.”
Terry smiled. “It is certainly a nice toy! Now, let me just make sure you know everyone. You know the three rascals chasing your ducks down there, of course, Señora. And Elizabeth, my wife. And Tammy, our resident burglar.”
Mrs DeSoto smiled and nodded. “You are welcome, Tammy, but I must warn you, my security people are very good.”
She missed the challenging look on the effacing girl’s face. Terry continued:
“Pete here is involved in software development and Jessica is his right hand and personal assistant.”
Mrs DeSoto turned to Jessica. “I hear you were fighting?”
The grin on Jessica’s face was beautiful. “We, that is Tammy and I, were practising new Karate moves, and I kicked with my leg twisted. It just snapped. I could not believe it. But fortunately it is a clean break and it is healing well.”
The charming old lady nodded. “As long as you were not fighting with your handsome consort.”
Pete blushed, pushed his spectacles higher up his nose, and managed: “You don’t know the half of it, Madame. The way I get treated…”
Jessica threatened retribution and Terry intervened: “No, Señora Isabella, she has him far too well trained. Pete was the key to developing a relational database we needed when we were fighting the spy network. I helped him patent it, now he is working on network programming with Neville, who should be here any moment. Problem is, few of us understand exactly what Pete does, but he has been earning our company good money.”
Snacks were being served by a rotund waiter when Neville and his wife, Fate, arrived. Their children greeted politely and then went off to join the infant riot on the grounds, where a specially appointed child minder was trying to keep them out of the water by presenting new toys and games.
Their hostess called Luiz to take orders for drinks, then announced: “I suggest we all take a few moments to relax, make sure your rooms are comfortable, and unpack what the staff did not. You are welcome to stay out here or come back to take whatever refreshments you wish. Clifford and Donna will join us for dinner, but I suggest we keep the business dealings for tomorrow after breakfast. Does that sound good?”
There was general agreement, but it was a little spoilt by Sweety running up and reporting: “There’s a funny man in the little house there, daddy. He said we must go away, he is painting. Can I paint too?”
Mrs deSoto smiled. “My nephew, Claudio Ortez. He is working on something for me. I hope he will join us from time to time, but I’m afraid he works hard at creating the image of an eccentric artist. Perhaps we could persuade him to help the children paint something. We will have the housekeeper run up some smocks to keep their clothes clean.”
Tammy volunteered to help herd the children, and was soon led into the airy studio where canvases were stacked against the walls. She watched the child minder hand out paper and paints and advised the smallest on making hand prints on a blank page.
Looking up she found the artist looking at her quizzically. “You are their nanny?”
She grinned. “Oh no, I am the dog trainer and resident burglar.” She looked over the visible paintings and asked: “And you are the artist? I love the horses over there.”
“Ah, yes, the mustangs? You like them? Most people would prefer more action. Teeth, tossing manes, that sort of drama.”
Tammy shook her head. “No, these are so powerful, so… As if they are not bothered by anything. I love the light, the dust. But above all the way they seem to dominate the place.”
Ortez looked at her. “Photographers call that technique contre jour, against the light. You allow the light to shine through the dust, but in photography the risk is that the subject turns into a silhouette. What you described was exactly what I tried to show. This little herd on the ranch have been living there for generations. It is their world, they belong there. They are trotting somewhere, they know where and will get there when it suits them. They are in their domain. I will take you to see them. But you know about art, I presume?”
She shook her head, smiling. “No, I really don’t know much about art, but I did manage to steal a Velasquez. A small flamenco dancer. You may know it?”
Claudio was aghast. “Stole…? I do know his work, I studied under him for a year before he stopped painting. I remember his big panel with Dona Lucia doing the alegrias, and I heard of three small paintings. You stole one?”
Tammy was smug. “Yes, he did three, about this size. I had a special request, got paid an advance even. It was easy. My client sold it back to the collector for five times what he paid me for, so I gave up on art. But you may change my mind yet.”
Claudio could not grasp what she was saying. “You stole… You… How do you mean?”
Tammy smiled calmly at his confusion. “I am a burglar, see? That is my profession, that is what I was trained for. So all I know about art is how to steal it. But you know how to create it, which is immensely more valuable. How did you get the colours just so?”
He bustled to a workbench. “Some I make myself. Of course much can be bought. But here is some ochre, I find clay of the right hue on the ranch, then I grind it and mix it with a compound. Or the blue here. For that I have to find a prospector who knows where to get the crystals of azurite. Very expensive and hard to work, but the result is worth it.”
Tammy stared at the small jar. “It looks… alive? Shimmering?”
He laughed delightedly. “But you are an artist! You understand… I just cannot get the colours and the light right. The bright sun overwhelms and bleaches everything. I have tried, see here. I have been painting this scene for three years now. Something is lacking. When I get back to the ranch next week I will try again, but I despair.”
The children ate early and were escorted to the nursery, where the child minder would keep them busy and then put them to bed. Fate’s two older children were shown a study adjacent to the nursery with every form of entertainment they could imagine.
Dinner was formal, everyone was dressed up and seating was indicated with small goldengraved name cards. At the start of the meal Clifford was asked to say grace, to his obvious embarrassment. Shortly after a small woman in chef’s clothes diffidently came to consult with the hostess, but withdrew after a few moments. Terry took the moment to ask Claudio what he was painting, which he was reluctant to reply to. Jessica, however, joked about the resident Picasso, and soon had Claudio holding forth about palette knife techniques.
Soon after the main course was served Fate leant forward and asked Mrs DeSoto what spices had been used in preparing the stew. The hostess smiled. “It was supposed to be a goat stew, based on a recipe we have from an ancestress, but it seems the spices I had imported at great cost went astray somewhere. We, or rather my faithful Maria, made do with cloves, cinnamon, cardamom and a touch of turmeric.
Fate nodded. “If I may, could I suggest that the spices, especially the cardamom, be cooked just a little longer? I have found that beneficial. But it has been an excellent way to prepare goat meat. A very difficult dish at its best.”
Mrs DeSoto smiled. “You are so kind, my dear. Please do feel free to speak to Maria, I will tell her about your interest. I had hoped, given your North African ancestry, to offer you something memorable.”
Fate nodded. “Your hospitality and kindness is enough to make our visit memorable, Señora. Would that we were able to reciprocate. But I hope, tomorrow, to put a proposal before you that will in some small way show our appreciation.”
Terry found it appropriate to ask about the wine and soon Clifford was holding forth about the perils of unpredictable summer weather, cloud cover disrupting the expected ripening of the grapes, and an unseasonable breeze from the desert.
Jessica watched the dynamics of the crowd with amusement, noting how Tammy had withdrawn herself to be almost invisible, and how Claudio was silently observing, measuring and comparing the light on the faces.
They adjourned to the patio for liqueurs, but Tammy whispered to Terry to excuse her, that she was going to take a walk to work off the effects of her dinner.
Breakfast was informal and the dishes were served by Maria, as the waiter of the previous evening, Luiz, was nowhere to be found. Tammy cheerfully offered to help, remarking to everyone who wanted to hear that serving staff were able to penetrate any defences and so burglars liked to take on that role.
Over steaming coffee Mrs DeSoto proposed that the party should adjourn to the conference room, to have preliminary discussions about the proposal Terry wanted to discuss, after which she wanted to show her latest acquisitions and ask Tammy’s opinion.
But to everyone’s surprise Tammy upset the protocol by calling on Sammy and Sweety, with some help from Danny, to carry a cardboard box into the boardroom.
“I think this is what you were planning to show us, Señora Isabella? But you should really upgrade your security system and fire the security chief, who was soundly asleep when I pulled the fuse. Now, this is your very well known brooch, handmade, I believe, in Seville? Very nice, and worth quite a bit. If broken down I would be able to get perhaps just over half of what you paid for it. Maybe a little more. Then here is the diamond necklace you bought through a middleman at Christies a month ago. Really a good purchase, I must congratulate you. If you sold it now you would probably realise a profit of say twenty percent. Broken down I might, just might get half its value, but just because I know about someone in Antwerp. Then there are these Fabergé pieces. Nice, no doubt, but I was never really into them. Too hard to sell on. These others I will let you admire without comment.
“But then, Señora, I really have to take you to task. This piece is, I believe, real Maya work. It is priceless. I would urge you to have it copied and the original locked up in Fort Knox. This literally cannot be priced. And I cannot begin to imagine how you obtained it as I do not remember any description in any catalogue of something of this nature.
“Oh, and before I forget, Maria deserves a raise. She found that Luiz has been abstracting spices and wine. Somehow the combination lock on his locker came undone. I saw her take a cleaver to persuade him to head for parts unknown.”
Mrs DeSoto had a small smile on her formidable face. Her secretary, Timothy, was frozen with terror. It was Elizabeth who broke the silence.
“I have learnt, as others have done, that it is a mistake to challenge Tammy, Señora. But her advice may well be heeded. These are really magnificent pieces. May I ask where the Maya piece comes from?”
Mrs DeSoto smiled and touched the golden figurine. “It has been in the family for at least two centuries. I believe one of the conquistadores married a Maya princess, and this was part of her dowry. There is a gap in the provenance, but we have researchers looking into it. With no knowledge of the piece or where it is, I hasten to say.”
“Really wonderful. May I touch it? I think I can feel the ancient harmony. A culture I know far too little about. Now, as Tammy has disrupted everything as usual, may we ask Terry to present his proposal?”
Mrs DeSoto nodded, and Terry explained how Synergon had come into existence, how it had fallen on hard times, and how he and Elizabeth had taken a share in the company. Fate took over and briefly explained the finances, the problems caused by the withdrawal of a substantial part of the funding that they had counted on to develop new technology, and how they envisaged the structure of the company should they find new financing. Neville then explained how he planned to develop their existing lines, and how to build on to them. Pete added a brief, but bewildering description of future development possibilities that had Clifford and Neville nodding in agreement.
Mrs DeSoto looked around the table, then focused.
“Donna, your opinion?”
The girl smiled. “I’ve heard about you, Fate. André once mentioned something about a girl he had passed on, someone with an amazing accounting and managerial ability. Having said that, Doña DeSoto, I get the impression that this is worth looking at. I think Clifford would first want to have more technical information, but he seems to think this might fit into our ideas of expansion. I would suggest we get our technology people involved, of course after we have had the legal people draw up the necessary papers.”
Lunch brought a different version of the goat stew, and Fate jumped up and threw her arms about the chef when she came to clear the table.
“I had a meal like this when I visited my grandmother, so many years ago. Thank you for renewing the memory!”
Maria smiled shyly and nodded to Tammy. “She helped find the missing dawadawa spices.”
The children, after a short rest, needed entertaining. Tammy volunteered to take them riding on a troop of tame ponies while the parents rested. Afterwards they busied themselves with ample amounts of bright paint, blank sheets of paper and some critical praise from Claudio.
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