Continuing from edit 3

Chapter 7

Van Gogh

Sarah, Avram and I gathered together to review our research on van Gogh, and our plan for José.

After we all had grabbed coffee and croissants, I opened the meeting.

"I cannot stress how dangerous José is." I looked soberly at them both, concerned. He is one of the three that can literally blow us out of the project.

Avram nodded.

Sarah smiled." You're right Charlie, but you are wrong too."

"How so?" I leaned forward intrigued. She provided hooks better than anyone else. The entire sales approach had been her concept.

"Sarah jabbed her thumb towards her laptop, and offered us a crooked grin. "All our research shows us that José doesn't really run his businesses anymore, and hasn't for the past three years. He relies almost totally on three people... Garbana, Ysleta and Utrillo."

We were all on the same page, and I raised my eyebrow in a so what's your point gesture.

She grinned back at me. "The only things we can verify that he does do, is meet weekly with those three and chase art and women. From the taps we know that Ysleta is the only one 'connected' and he handles any problems that develop anywhere in the organization. So that's where you are right, Charlie. If we come to his attention as a problem, the situation could get become serious." She paused. Avram lounged back in his chair, the tension gone from his face. He was ahead of me.

"Now, if we keep José happy and satisfied there will be no problem." She sat back, liking her simple solution.

"I can see your point. Yes, we realized quickly that we needed to keep Ysleta out of our little adventure." I laughed at how she had set me up for that one. She was a research psychologist and such a charming quick wit. "However, we all know Plan A rarely works." I offered.

"True, but all the variations take in diversions for Ysleta."

"That's true," I conceded. " Let's get on with this."

"Ok, José told us from the beginning that van Gogh and Picasso were his favorites. One of our keys is he only sold one painting during his lifetime.

I nodded. "Yes, we have all read some of the same basics."

Avram interjected, "Let me save us some time. Here." He handed out a 20 page highlighted biographical sketches of van Gogh, Picasso and 40 pages on José.

Sarah took her copy, and continued without looking at it. " José's focus is on the art, and not being deceived, or robbed. Although he worries a lot about scams, we have an excellent chance to remain no threat and therefore should be safe."

"In this business, there is no safety, Sarah. Only degrees of success or failure."

"We will succeed," affirmed Avram.

"With a little help from our friends," added Sarah.

We three smiled at each other, glad for the mutual support. We continued to chat as we listened to Av read. Each of us had interjections for Avram to add to the final version we used to develop our little play. We all enjoyed the break and the camaraderie.

"Vincent van Gogh, born on March 30, 1853, died: Suicide on July 29, 1890.

Van Gogh produced all of his work completing some 900 paintings and 1100 drawings during only a 10-year span before yielding to bipolar mental illness. Yes, he committed suicide. His fame grew rapidly after his death especially following a showing of 71 of van Gogh's paintings in Paris on March 17, 1901. Only 11 years after his death, People had trouble pronouncing his name. Properly done, the name rhymes with loch, but it is also pronounced 'goph', 'go' and 'goe'."

"A good basic start Av. Please add to the top of Jose's bio the canvases he wants. Naturally José wants the big sales, so add," I read from my notes: " Irises, Portrait of Doctor… Oh, and José wants The Potato Eaters painted in 1885, and Van Gogh only sold one painting during his lifetime, The Red Vineyard . And of course that is the final Van Gogh painting José wants. Might as well ad Guernica too"

Avram made the necessary additions on his laptop then continued to read.

"Van Gogh's influence on expressionism, fauvism, and early abstraction was enormous, and may be seen in many other aspects of 20th-century art. The Van Gogh Museum in Amsterdam is dedicated to his work and that of his contemporaries. The Kröller-Müller Museum in Otterlo is located in The Netherlands, and rather nice collection of Vincent van Gogh paintings. Several Van Gogh paintings rank among the most expensive paintings in the world. On March 30, 1987 Van Gogh's painting Irises was sold for a record $53.9 million at Southeby's, New York. On May 15, 1990 his Portrait of Doctor Gachet was sold for $82.5 million at Christie's."

"Charlie what's fauvism?" Sarah asked. "I missed that day in art class."

I cracked up. "We all missed days in art class." It was a short-lived concept, about 10 years, I think. The movement came out of the post impressionism and Pointillism, you remember those little dots?"

Sarah chuckled, "yes."

I guess Matisse is the best artist I can use to explain. He helped develop the style after finding Pointillism too confining. It became a forerunner for expressionism. It is considered a more expressive and somehow freer style of painting. They were not tied to any natural use of color. It is often applied straight from the paint tube in an aggressive, wild beast kind of way.

"Oh yes, fauvre is French for wild beast!"

"Exactly, Sarah. Exaggeration was a key. I think that is the meaning of free that he was looking for," I mused.

"I like Matisse"

"So do I, but he lost my interest when he moved toward cubism."

Avram laughed, "I guess that makes it unanimous!"

Av went on, laughing in spurts.

"Vincent was born in Zundert, The Netherlands. His father was a Protestant minister. Vincent found religion appealing and would be drawn to it later in his life. His sister described him as a serious and introspective child.

At age 16 Vincent worked for an art dealer, Goupil & Co., in The Hague. His four years younger brother Theo shared a life long friendship and joined the company later. Their friendship is documented in the letters they sent each other. These letters were preserved and published in 1914. They provide the insights so many write about as they explore the life of the painter. The letters show Picasso as a talented writer with a sharp mind. Theo supported Vincent financially throughout his life."

Sarah soberly noted, "Mental illness truly destroys life."

Avram replied, "So many people are screwed up, it is amazing that anything works.

I agreed adding, "That is why we have to research our eccentric billionaires and their wants so very carefully. If we don't know, we may end up the ones being screwed! And each one of these guys has more than one screw loose."

"Or we could end up very dead," Avram added quietly.

We all paused and looked at each other. We all shifted uncomfortably in our chairs. We had accepted the seriousness of our venture at the very beginning, but it was probably good to remind ourselves. I think each of us was resolving to get it right. I know I did. We went back to the work at hand.

"In 1873, his firm transferred him first to London, then to Paris. Religion became more and more a part of his focus. In 1876 lack of motivation led to losing his job at Goupil. A teaching assistant position in Ramsgate near London was a stopgap before he returned to Amsterdam to study theology in 1877.

Yet he quit that in 1878 and became a lay preacher in Borinage, Belgium, a poor mining region. He preached deep down in the mines expressing concern for the plight of the workers. He lost that job after 6 months but continued to serve without pay."

"Yes, I remember. It was here he began to draw those charcoal sketches?" Sarah asked.

"That's right," Avram grinned.

"In 1880 his brother Theo suggested Vincent paint seriously. For only a brief period Vincent actually studied painting with Anton Mauve at The Hague. Vincent and Anton soon split over artistic differences. Some of the influences from The Hague School of painting would remain obvious in Vincent's work: the played with light and the style of his brush strokes. His color usage, the dark tones would set him apart from his teacher, creating at least part of his unique style.

He had trouble keeping friends didn't he? I asked.

"Yes, but his family seemed to care deeply," Av responded.

"In 1881 Vincent asked his widowed cousin Kee Vos, to marry him. She rejected him. Later he would move in with a prostitute, Sien Hoornik and her children. He even considered marrying her, although his father frantically fought against it and even his beloved brother Theo fought the idea. They ended up separating to the heartfelt relief of the Gogh family."

Van Gogh concentrated on the rural paintings and a focus on peasants. Impressed and influenced by Jean François Millet, he seemed to enjoy this time. He would move around a lot. He traveled to the Dutch province Drenthe, Nuenen, and then North Brabant, all within The Netherlands. In North Brabant, he painted The Potato Eaters in 1885. This painting is in The Van Gogh Museum in Amsterdam." Av looked up and added, "for now."

"It was the winter of 1885-1886 when Van Gogh attended an art academy in Antwerp, Belgium. Professor Eugène Siberdt dismissed him after only a few months. For many artists, training academies were too limiting. Van Gogh did explore Japanese art during this period and he began collecting it eagerly. It was the bright colours, use of canvas space and the role lines played that dew his attention and affection. The Japanese style would influence him in many ways. Van Gogh completed a few paintings in the Japanese style. In fact some of the portraits he painted are have a Japanese art background."

Avram looked up at us and cheerfully added, "surprisingly none of our art collectors seem to be interested in Japanese art. We may have to focus on Japan next time around."

"There will be a next time? Sarah looked at him her eyes opened wide.

"No, Sarah, Av is just teasing."

Av pointed at Sarah with his index finger and laughed. After he got himself back under control, he returned to reading.

"Van Gogh went to Paris in the spring of 1886. He moved in with his brother Theo on Montmartre. He met the painters here. He came to know Paul Gauguin, Toulouse-Lautrec, Edgar Degas, Camille Pissarro, Bernard, Henri de . Impressionism now assaulted his interests and liking its use of light and colour he began to employ it. Pointillism- with all those many small dots are applied to the canvas to blend into rich colours only in the eye of the distant viewer-grabbed his fancy. This technique impacted Van Gogh's own style. Van Gogh is regarded as a post-impressionist, rather than an impressionist. He just made it all part of his own unique style.

In 1888, Van Gogh left Paris and went to Arles, Bouches-du-Rhône, France. He loved the local landscape and had hopes to create an art colony. He created a celebrated series of yellow sunflower paintings to decorate a yellow house. Of all the artists he met in Paris only Paul Gauguin, of the synthetism approach- simplified colour schemes and forms- followed Van Gogh. Their mutual admiration led to Gauguin painting van Gogh painting sunflowers. As now seems characteristic of the fiery Van Gogh, their time together ended in a quarrel with Gauguin leaving in December of 1888. It was after the argument that Van Gogh suffered a mental breakdown and cut off part of his left ear. He gave that ear to a prostitute friend, who was likely less than enthusiastic."

"It is so sad that his illness could not have had proper treatment. The man felt such failure in his life. He was such a genius, and he deserved better."

I smiled warmly at Sarah. Her eyes glistened with the unshed tears. One of the many things I loved about her was the depth of compassion she had for people. She once told me she went into Psychology to heal the world. She said it took her two years to discover the world would not be healed, and that you could only plant seeds and hope they would take root. Avram looked disgusted, shaking his head, he read on.

"Van Gogh only sold one painting during his lifetime, The Red Vineyard, painted in 1888, is on display in the Pushkin Museum in Moscow, Russia." Now he looked up, grinned and added "for now."

I couldn't help myself. I laughed again. Oh yes, this meeting was a very good idea.

Sarah joined me the laughter shifting her mood. Av looked as pleased.

"But… Van Gogh's history continued, as did his painting. He changed from painting those Pointillism dots turning to small stripes. The depression, in 1889, led Van Gogh to self-admit himself into the psychiatric center at Monastery Saint-Paul de Mausole in Saint Remy de Provence, Bouches-du-Rhône, France. Here the clinic and its garden became his painting focus. Here his pencil strokes changed again, turning into spiral curves.

In May 1890 Vincent went to Dr. Paul Gachet, after leaving the clinic. In Auvers-sur-Oise near Paris, he was closer to his brother Theo, who had recently married. Gachet had treated several artists before. Van Gogh created his only etching: a portrait of the same melancholic doctor Gachet. His depression got worse and on July 27 of the same year, at 37, after a frantic spurt of painting, van Gogh shot himself in the chest. He died two days later, with Theo at his side. "La tristesse durera toujours" according to his brother Theo. "The sadness will last forever" was the last thing he ever said. Theo buried Van Gogh at the cemetery of Auvers-sur-Oise. Theo was later buried right next to him."

I listened to Av's last words, thinking how Theo must have loved his brother.

Av sat back with a roll of his shoulders. "I'm done."

"Gachet was a quack."

Av and I laughed.

"Ok, he was one of the better ones of his time, but they were all quacks."

"Ah, Sarah," I rubbed her right hand gently. It is only somewhat better now."

"True, " she agreed.

"Let's go eat, " Av licked his lips, looking hopeful.

"All right, " I glanced at my Rolex, saw it was nearly 1:00. "Sounds good to me."

"Oh you two, " Sarah said in disgust. Eat sleep and play. That's all you two do!"

"What's wrong with that?" I asked, my most innocent expression plastered on my face.

Sarah giggled, "Ok, food. We can finish this after lunch."

Chapter 8

Then came Jason Smythers Havingstone IV, Lord Haverford, is your classic movie Brit. Pompous, reserved, a ruler of pomp and circumstance, with a deep growly voice. One of those cautious voices of reason. He is tall, at 6' 3", with an ascetic build and features. He reminds me of Basil Rathbone and those American Sherlock Holmes movies. Of course the real person is one very selfish, avaricious, venal and is even more corrupt than our Frenchman. His is inherited wealth, tied to the investments of the Queen Mother. He is always buying pre-Columbian art. It is his one true, honest passion. He is fortunate to have wealth. If he were a poor man, he would be dead. He may end up that way sooner than he expects anyway. Jason has his clubs, art auctions and a secret vault, larger than many houses, where he spends the majority of his time. Having him out of the public eye does not hurt the Royals at all.

Keeping Jason busy has allowed the Royals to cultivate the son. As such, the family has prospered nicely. His father was a bit of a dear, and well loved at court. The current Lord Haverford is never invited, except at the most formal occasions requiring an invitation be proffered. The royal family is looking forward to this gentleman's demise with unseemly relish. His son, Arthur, Sir Arthur, was a success at Eton and Cambridge, making the Olympic team and actually winning a medal! He currently is serving at Her Majesty's pleasure in MI5. The Royal family has him over to many functions.

Chapter 9

Third was the frenchie. There always seems to be a Frenchman in the mix, somehow. Ours is Gerald Michele Sans-Soiu. He grew up in Marseilles as a street orphan, learning the numbers racket before moving into international import-exporting, his cover for theft and drugs. He is a dapper, greasy looking fat man with shiny black hair, watery blue eyes and the kind of sweet watchful temperament better suited to a cobra. At first glance he seems like the type of bartender you might confide in about serious matters. He has used that well developed persona most successfully to develop his spectacular information for sale business. The CIA, Mossad, MI6, and many others regularly seek him out for his information links in the Middle East and Asia.

Recently Gerald has moved into Arms sales and Transportation, for that enterprise he has rapidly developed Mexican and Colombian ties. This is one very dangerous individual. Never turn your back on this one. Of course that is a basic truth for all six of these wealthy, highly respected individuals. They have all proved that having loads of money truly makes a big difference in how business is done. Gerald has killed or caused to be imprisoned around 200 rivals that we have identified...so far. Our research is always ongoing. Sans- Soiu has no record of even ever being charged with a traffic ticket, and he also appears to be a long-time favorite of The French President.

Immediately after visiting Lumley Castle for the first time, he began exploring purchasing a castle in France. We recommended, for a slight finder's fee, the FOLLOWING CASTLE.

He bought it three days later.

Chapter 10

Next came The American. Of course we have our obligatory American too. He is one of those rich conceited idiots that have given Americans such a bad name around the world for years. We have our very own American politician. We had tried to recruit a South American Dictator and a Canadian Industrialist. Unfortunately, neither had the necessary cash flow, although we thought they did. The interest was there. But not the cash. So, we were stuck with the American. Retired Senator Albert Sissal, of the Montgomery, Alabama Sissals is an idiot. He is, granted, both a rich and famous capital I, Idiot, but there you have him in the essential nutshell. At well over 150 stone, (300 lbs.) and 5'6" he is a beached whale scrounging for food. This man invented avarice, and the 3000 ways to cover it up with a genteel manner and an amazing aura of innocence. I really do have to learn that one!

His family were slaveholders in pre Civil-War Alabama, and that sense of ownership prevails in his personal and business attitudes today, although most quietly. The Sissals moved reluctantly and grudgingly from slave owning to mercantile and industry. We think that may have had to do with the early American lack of any union movement and the fact that the Sissals could continue to treat their workers like slaves.

Through sheer luck they have avoided all the sweat shop problems other modern Americans have been caught with. In fact through the corporation efforts, they actually have a rather good reputation at providing fair benefits. That will change. What has yet to be discovered is the Retirement funds that will disappear when the business collapses. That event is being programmed for 2009. There are a number of planned assassinations there that will make the Valentine's Day Massacre of the 1930's look like a London society tea party.

Chapter 11

And finally the dreamer. We did keep him for last. Xui Han Fu, a Chinese Drug Lord operating out Malaysia is a very quiet, dreamy character who seems to be on the way to retirement. He is a small wiry character with small, undistinguished features that would make it difficult to ever find him in a crowd of Chinese. He has close-cropped black hair, stands around 5'4". He appears ageless, though his birth certificate and passport both claim he is 76. He appears to partake of his product, although is careful about doing so. He speaks in a quiet melodious voice with an impeccable, cultured Manchester accent. He tells us that this was probably due to a charming lady that his family hired in India. His education is worldly, and I personally like him a great deal. I have yet to find a topic where he does not provide interesting, relevant information. I can not tell you how very rare of a find that is for me. We suspect he has numerous ties to Chinese Intelligence services.

One by one we collected 250 million from each. Oh, it wasn't all tea and crumpets. We had to play with wiring instructions for our two check casher innocents. Neither had thought to use certified checks, believing in their own invincibility. Certified, we could have washed. Taking personal checks for 250 million is just plain stupid. Our dreamer had no problem, being a banker he completed the wire transfer from our office on our laptop. The other man with the briefcase was a dream He did have cash, glorious cash. It was a delight to behold. All left with one item, each, in their possession. Our clients were temporarily satisfied. There would be a lot of bloody damn work before we were done.

Chapter 12

It was now Saturday. We decided this was our day of rest, likely the last for quite some time. We immediately split into several cars going in different directions. I drove up A690, Switch Street, north until we found A1 (M) then, kept driving. We stopped whenever the mood struck us… The money had all been deposited and had been moved around fast, frequently, and in much smaller packages until only Abdul and myself knew the many accounts where it was resting until we needed it. The possibilities of using the countryside to hide us were delicious, but unnecessary. We were just cruising to see if anyone was following us, and looking for any other indicators of problems. There were none…this time.

We all pulled into our pre-planned parking places within 30 minutes of the schedule. When we met in front of the restaurant, I told them that all reports coming in suggested we were clean. There was no surveillance.

We stopped for a lovely celebration dinner in Newcastle Upon Tyne consisting of several specialties and the requisite bubbly. After all, we were working stiffs looking to live in the lavish style to which we highly desired to acclimate. It looked to us like it might just work this time. We had been so very close before, but one thing or another always made escape the higher need, rather more necessary than our goal of success and celebration. We went inside, and took up our reservation. The maitre D, beamed at Avram. "It is good to see you again Lord Beakly."

"Of course, Angus. Delighted to see you too. I miss this old place."

Angus led us upstairs to the private rooms, settled us with menus and nodded his way out. We began on a self-congratulatory note.

"Ah Avram, you were magnificent"

"Charlie, you carried it off like the master you are."

Abdul laughed.

"You two are such a mutual admiration society, you should get married."

"What Sarah? Already trying to get rid of me, dear?"

Av and I looked at each other and laughed heartily.

She batted her eyes. "I wouldn't want to stand in the way of true love."

The three of us had trouble holding the laughter down to reasonable levels.

"If we did," I conjectured, "I would soon have to file for divorce for incompatibility. Av is a great partner, but I just don't want him to try to have my babies. I guess I'm from the old school."

"Well, I would have to agree Charlie," Avram commented with a glint in his eye. "I just cannot see babies anywhere in my future. Alas, divorced before we are married. Truly a sad state of affairs."

The a waiter came in at that point. We ordered a lavish dinner and built some more memories.

Add more here.

With that we all broke up again and called for the check, departed, and located our scheduled lodgings for the night.

Chapter 13

Work never ends. They say a Woman's work is never done. Unfortunately, I couldn't dump the work on my wife, she was busy enough. So, I spent several more hours on the Internet and the phone making all the necessary arrangements for the following week..

Sarah was busy on her wireless computer…

I got about half of it scheduled before collapsing next to Sarah about 3 AM. Most had already been tentatively set, but we did have to firm them up, change a few and replan one from the beginning. That one was going to be a royal headache. There was the likely more danger there than any other one we had developed. Well, that plan and the other that seemed to be working like damask silk . The plans least likely to succeed are those with no problems and those that never seem to go right. Our contact in Russia had been arrested for another crime. He looked like he would not become available to us within the time span needed. I had to call Angelo on that one. He agreed to meet with Abdul and myself tomorrow at the castle. That one was going to take a lot of work. Likely I would end up flying into Moscow to work out new arrangements. Hopefully the artifacts necessarily pre-prepared, and ready to go still existed. If not, replanning would become the easy part.

We had been working in separate teams for a number of years. Although there were only twenty-five of us based at the castle, we were a full team. We still had another 25 auxiliary personnel in the field. It is hard to put together a team like that. It becomes an organization, with all the inherent problems that organizations are heir to. I suppose most in our line of work would consider us successful. We didn't. We were not going to be satisfied with a modest score. We wanted to make the biggest all time score in history. Each of us was looking towards having the kind of money where, coupled with reasonable behavior, it creates at least a patina of automatic respectability, and as secure a life as only money can provide.

Avram and I often changed roles as the need arose. We both did servility with panache. The others also served in multiple roles as the need arose. It had been a great life to this point. We had a life full of high adventure and low comedy, filled with minor successes and humbling defeats. They say you cannot con a con artist, but we are the likeliest to be conned. There is only one kind of person who cannot be conned. That is someone who doesn't want something. How can you make someone want something when they really don't care? Yes, you can argue that the telly does it daily by creating wants and needs, but rarely does someone who doesn't care pay any attention to those. It just doesn't happen.

The celebration was fun. It would be our last one until we collected our final payments and disappeared. However we all agreed then and there that we had indeed earned it. It was like winning the lotto. 1.25 Billion pounds in one day. Lordy what a day! It would become one of those memories for old age and the fireplace, regardless of what came next. Common sense and necessity would bring us back to ground…tomorrow.

Chapter 14

I arose refreshed, feeling like everything was right. A niggling voice quietly leered in my ear "remember Murphy, he does a lot of work to maintain those laws…" I sighed. So true, so true! Whatever can go wrong will. My credo is well founded in whatever cannot go wrong will. I call that the corollary to Murphy's law. Avram chuckled and said it is easier just to say, "it will all go wrong, all the time so plan for it." I cannot disagree. In fact I do my best to do exactly that. That is why there are nearly 50 of us involved in this caper and not just five. However in any bureaucracy there are problems and with 50 of us… we qualify as an organizational bureaucracy. Within bureacracies, there is that tendency for someone to get stuck in a situation he or she is unprepared to handle. We all just hope it won't happen to us. I keep trying to insure it doesn't happen to any of us.

We went to breakfast at the club together. Clubs are nice, quiet, respectable, and discreet. They are great places to meet. Likewise, in our business, they are the right places to meet the right people. For those wanting money, the right people are those that have the money, ergo Clubs are an excellent resource. QED. Quo ergo demostratum Ah my old math professor from Oxford would have been proud of that logic.

I went to Oxford?

Yes, and graduated near the top of your class.

What the hell am I doing here then?

Making money.

I shook my head, finished my coffee in a more somber mood. I looked over at Abdul, Avram and George. They were all finishing up too. The excesses of last night were now history. They all seemed to recognize, as I did, that today meant work, serious work. We grinned sheepishly at one another, finished our breakfasts and then headed for the auto. It was a short but brisk walk to the parking garage. We walked it in silence, wrapped up in our own individual thoughts. The rental cars had been turned in and another selected. Once we got in the car and headed home to Lumley, we started to become dedicated employees once again. We were after all, experienced professionals. As far as the trip back. Well, it was definitely a longer journey back to the old castle. It was a trip made in silence, except for Avram seeking out the BBC and any news he could find. Sarah and I held hands several times. I felt that delightful breath of fresh air as we drove up the driveway. So far I feel that every time I come here. Sadly, I know that sense of delight and wonderment may end. The castle is magnificent, standing bold and tall against the gray sky. The turrets are now all in good repair, the ivy climbing up the walls. Just looking at all that ancient history, full of blood and treachery, faith and forgiveness, fills my soul.