Snatched Read online

  ‘It was always his belief that a difficulty could be transmuted into a plus. In almost the best sense he was an opportunist. He’d mention that situation in the Old Testament where people couldn’t get in or out of Jericho because of its terrific wall, and then, on the seventh day of walking around it blowing trumpets, and now, also, shouting, the wall fell down flat because of noise-assault. And the besiege group were able to walk in and kill everyone, man, woman, young, old, plus ox, sheep and donkeys. So, where you’d had an impasse because of the wall, you not only had a solution when it fell down, but also the extra boon of all the slaughter. He had a fascination with walls, didn’t he, and he’d have loved to see the Berlin one taken apart.’

  ‘I do vaguely recall that baseball bat situation,’ Lepage replied. Yes, there was Flounce’s own account often told by him with many a chuckle in the executive dining room. Security had managed to keep that group of avengers at the Hulliborn main door, but after a while Flounce, disturbed by their shouting, had come down from his suite and invited them in. After his denials of polluting the girl, he had insisted they all search the museum for her together. Gradually, he had turned the occasion into a kind of educational tour, graced by his personal commentary. This had lasted five hours and took them almost until morning opening time. Certainly, it was daylight before the party escaped, and by then some men had worried about being seen with offensive weapons. The girl was not found.

  Her mother had grown so fascinated by Flounce that she persuaded her husband to make a heavy contribution to the Hulliborn Building Fund. Flounce’s gorgeous arrogance, learning, charm and sombre handsomeness, despite the scar near his eye – or, possibly, that handsomeness augmented and made more interesting by the scar – all these no doubt helped captivate the woman. At the conclusion of the trek, Butler-Minton had urged them to come with him for a repeat saunter through Geology, because he’d missed out a few pre-Mesozoic rocks, but had grudgingly consented to their leaving once he had the cheque.

  This was probably the first time the Preservatives cupboard in Birds had been turned to emergency use, and probably Nev had remembered it from Flounce’s account, accounts, of the night. Flounce had hidden the girl in there and then marched the seekers everywhere else in the building. While he and the rest were immersed in a forty-minute, two-part video on ancient tombs, the baseball bats and flails laid aside, the girl had let herself out of the cupboard, dodged Security, and got a taxi home to bed. Flounce said that as she dressed in the dark she accidentally knocked over a bottle of dye on one of the shelves and was splashed by its contents. As a result, the colour of some body hair was permanently changed to that of the Arctic tern’s plumage: grey-white, but a lively grey-white, not an age sign.

  The girl’s mother, obviously still impressed by him, had telephoned Flounce several times over the next few months, suggesting a meeting to discuss the Mesozoic rocks, but he had been able to discourage her, without in the least giving offence, or so he maintained, citing pressure of work and a 1957 loin injury received in Ethiopia. ‘Get this, Lepage: one should always strive not to be rude or cold to people, and especially not to frantic, sex-starved old boots,’ Flounce had said. ‘It was a Lolita situation, wasn’t it – the mother assuming in her need and foolishness that I could be interested in her, rather than the daughter?’

  ‘Victory out of seeming setbacks,’ Lady Butler-Minton said on the phone now. ‘Opportunism, yes, but occasionally a justified, worthwhile opportunism, not something cheap, shallow, and furtive – though he could certainly do it that way, too. An all-rounder. I know you have learned and will learn from him. He had a great belief in you. Always said you were … what was the word? Ah, yes, sturdy. I’m sure that was it – sturdy.’

  This wasn’t the term that Lepage remembered as most often on Flounce’s lips to describe him, though the core sound came close. ‘Thank you so much, Penny,’ he said.

  Julia returned with the tea tray.

  ‘I still talk to Eric every night,’ Lady Butler-Minton murmured, ‘usually in the gym. I do a couple of snatch episodes with the weights, then rest and perhaps ask his views on matters general, discuss old times – topics such as those absurd Harvard people in 1971, or the dear Wolverhampton rat trainer, or Mrs Cray and the windsock. It’s nice to realize I might not be the only one in touch with him like that, George.’

  ‘Indeed you’re not.’

  ‘The past is alive, though I’m sure I don’t need to say this to a museum Director.’

  ‘Sometimes I forget. Sometimes I even try to deny it.’

  ‘You mustn’t, George. You can’t. It’s part of us. It activates us. Eric always used to maintain that Henry Ford was misheard when he supposedly said, “History is bunk.” The actual words were, “History is spunk.”’

  That might have some bearing on Neville’s flourish in the medieval tableau. ‘So thoughtful of you to call at this tricky time, Penny.’

  ‘What was all that about?’ Julia asked when Lady Butler-Minton had rung off. She discarded the ghastly housecoat on a chair and began to dress.

  Lepage poured the tea. ‘Just encouragement, commiserations, triumph out of setbacks,’ he said. As if accidentally, he stumbled over the telephone extension cable while replacing the phone on the dressing table and spilled most of his tea on the housecoat. ‘Oh, Lord, Julia, so sorry. And it might not come out. I’ll have to get you another.’ He poured himself some more. ‘Yes, Lady B-M was talking about opportunism.’

  Eight

  Dr Kanda said: ‘Oh, not the least bearing, I sincerely assure you.’

  ‘You’re kind,’ Lepage said.

  ‘Not the least bearing on whether the JASS comes to your museum, pray believe me. Please do not fret yourself even in minor fashion over this, Dr Lepage. We must all expect such occasional acts of outrage,’ Dr Kanda said.

  ‘Sure,’ Dr Itagaki added. ‘These thefts are a plague of our time, nothing more, nothing less. This is unquestionable. All, yes, all are vulnerable to them. Why, perhaps this very gang will be at its monstrous work soon in Japan itself. Who knows? I would not be surprised at all to see news of the mysterious “Fatman” and the woman with extremely strong leadership qualities like General Patton, as I believe she has been described by an onlooker. But perhaps we Japanese would say like General MacArthur, though it does not greatly matter: I would not be surprised in the least to hear of them in dire operation in my homeland. Certainly not.’

  ‘Unfortunately, only too possible,’ Dr Kanda agreed. He and Dr Itagaki were on an official assessment visit to the Hulliborn from the Japanese Arts and Culture Council in Tokyo and London, and were seated with Lepage and Vincent Simberdy in the Director’s suite. Kanda, who looked very fit and cheery, went on: ‘Perhaps, indeed, it was this “Fatman’s” predatory outfit that got clean away – yes, clean – with the Gauguins and Rembrandts from the Tokyo Hall of Fame last year, despite unparalleled security. Unquestionably unparalleled. As a matter of fact, I think I have it at the back of my head that a Fatman was mentioned, though this might be auto-suggestion.’

  ‘Yes, we could be said to be hot stuff on security in Japan, yet we still lose treasures. On the other hand, it is the way of the British, and such an admirable way in many respects, not to be deeply strict about security,’ Itagaki said. She was a little too bony, with large, blue-framed spectacles and, like Kanda, looked full of high spirits. Maybe culture and museums were fun things in Japan. Lepage had been there, but hadn’t noticed those qualities then. He felt rather envious of their exuberance now. She continued: ‘You are a freedom-loving people, with a great tradition of what is referred to by the British themselves, a mite self-disparagingly I deem, as “mucking through”. Some phrase that, by heaven, and not at all akin to “mucking out” or “mucking up”. Or, indeed, “mucking nuisance”, where the “mucking” is, in fact, a squeamish sonic euphemism for the expletive “fucking”. We Japanese do not always manage that quality of “mucking through”, but we recognize it, understa
nd it. Your museums are not fortresses. Perhaps they are the better for that.’

  Lepage thought Simberdy looked very tense, compared with the visitors. ‘We’re extremely grateful for your attitude to the theft,’ Simberdy said. ‘I’ll be frank, we—’

  ‘Something else to admire in the British – their frankness,’ Kanda cried delightedly. ‘Even bluffness at times. It is still appealing. An all-consuming contempt for duplicity.’

  ‘True,’ Simberdy replied, his voice still strained and nervous. ‘Yes, above all, one loathes duplicity. But, you see, the Director and I did fear that publicity associated with the incident might mean the Hulliborn stood no further chance of hosting the medical and surgery exhibition, because you would report that the relics could not be safe here. And the exhibition is crucial to us.’

  ‘To, as it were, the health of the Hulliborn,’ Kanda said with a chortle. ‘A medical exhibition equals health!’

  ‘The exhibition is vital in the long-run to the safeguarding of scholarship and learning in our country: the Hulliborn is a symbol, a paradigm,’ Simberdy said.

  ‘A very worthwhile paradigm, a very grand symbol,’ Dr Itagaki cried.

  Kanda laughed in a style loaded with large-minded tolerance: ‘Absolutely no danger to the Hulliborn’s prospects as recipients of JASS. As Dr Itagaki and I understand matters – though, of course, this is mere hearsay – but as we understand things, the “Fatman” goes only for the best – hence the Hulliborn and the El Grecos and the Monet. One could say, I venture, though a little wryly, perhaps, that, if anything, it is possibly a privilege to receive the attention of him and his people: a jolly testament to excellence, albeit a bruising testament. Oh, no, rest assured that his activities here will not count crucially against the Hulliborn, in this regard.’

  ‘A way with a rounded phrase, hasn’t he?’ Itagaki said.

  ‘Oh, forbear your mucking bile and envy, will you?’ Kanda replied.

  Lepage thought both scholars must have been in Britain for quite a while. They seemed to have picked up some of that Western brusqueness, even belligerence, and now and then lost at least a little of that celebrated Japanese politeness.

  ‘From the published plans of the Hulliborn buildings, we have been able to study its facilities very thoroughly, which are excellent, and we know all about its history since the founding by Lord Hulliborn of Nadle-and-Colm in the 1830s,’ Kanda said, ‘Sir Eric Butler-Minton, previous Director, of course, was a great friend of museums in our country. I have wondered whether his sobriquet, “Flounce”, indicated a liking for frills and transvestitism, though this would be of no great significance.’

  ‘I’m surprised you know the word “flounce”,’ Lepage said.

  ‘Oh, we have our flouncers, too. Think of all the snorting and pirouetting in that film, The Seven Samurai. Anyway, Butler-Minton’s foibles are hardly a museums-policy concern! His wife, now widow, Lady Butler-Minton, we admire, too. She has borne matters with splendid phlegm, oh, definitely, splendidly redoubtable phlegm. The Hulliborn has a wonderful reputation for scholarship through Sir Eric and many others, including your good selves, of course – certainly your good selves. It is regarded by my Council and, yes, Government, as an honour that you wish to provide a setting for our little exhibition.’

  ‘Little exhibition!’ Simberdy said.

  Itagaki smiled. ‘I’d say it was not inappropriate to ask at this juncture whether the “Fatman” or any other thieves would be interested in running off with some very old Yayoi or possibly Jomon tonsil-removers. Correct me if I’m awry, do, but I don’t believe these would be up the “Fatman’s” street at all. Hardly in a league with the El Grecos or Monet. How would he unload such commodities, for God’s sake, and where find a fence interested in an ancient scalpel for gall bladder removals? I believe “fence” is the correct word for someone who middlemans stolen goods – not, obviously, to do with “a fence” as barrier, or “to fence” with swords.’

  Simberdy said: ‘It’s most heartening and amusing of you to be so modest about such a magnificent collection, isn’t it, Director?’

  ‘Indeed, yes,’ Lepage said.

  ‘We would like to assure you, and your Government, that we most earnestly wish to provide a worthy temporary home for the so-distinguished JASS wonders,’ Simberdy crooned. He seemed to have fallen into their rococo way of doing English. Perhaps out of good manners he was thinking in Japanese and translating, though Simberdy was not famed for good manners. ‘We cannot exaggerate our hopes,’ he added.

  Dr Kanda, still almost laughing, said: ‘You will understand, gentlemen, that, in our rather tiresome, ultra-methodical Japanese way – I do believe we could give even the Germans a fine pasting in that respect nowadays – I say that, in our gradualist way, we shall be visiting all the museums considered to be front-runners for the JASS show and making our report on each. We Japanese – always reports. We are God’s gift to bureaucracy, I do believe! I imagine you might be quite fed up at the prospect of another report. I believe your Government and the museums authority here are doing some scrutinizing, and this will also entail reports. It is like a series of embarrassing and inconvenient medical examinations: the Hulliborn required to drop its trousers.’

  ‘What did you say?’ Simberdy gasped.

  ‘Just a metaphor, a sally,’ Kanda said.

  ‘We see the need for these things, Dr Kanda,’ Lepage said.

  ‘The Japanese and the British are both stoical races,’ Dr Itagaki said, ‘though occasionally, perhaps, we can both go over the bloody top.’

  ‘I fear so,’ Simberdy said. He sounded slightly more relaxed now. ‘It was such affinities that drew me to Asiatic studies in the first place. Yes, “over the top” is certainly fair enough.’

  ‘Butler-Minton – so strong on stoicism,’ Itagaki said. ‘In the matter of Mrs Cray, for instance, and the Wall.’

  ‘You heard about Mrs Cray?’ Simberdy said, less relaxed again. He spoke as if he had assumed they’d heard but hoped they hadn’t.

  ‘We do a small saunter into backgrounds when this kind of thing, the JASS thing, comes up,’ she said. ‘“Vetting”, as I believe you call it, in the British way of animalizing so many important matters and items: “pussy”, for instance.’

  ‘This is very much a preliminary, path-finding visit,’ Kanda said. ‘I expect you know how it works – the whole elaborate shebang. We do an initial appraisal for our masters in the first instance. They chew over these findings in their supposedly wise, Oriental way and produce a shortlist. Three? Four? I’m not privy to their procedures in detail, I fear.’

  ‘“Fear” is rather to overstate, surely,’ Itagaki replied. ‘Aren’t you talking out of your arse?’

  Lepage felt she’d devoted a lot of work to informal language.

  ‘It’s a usage in English. It does not mean I am afraid,’ Kanda said. ‘It is merely a kind of apology.’

  ‘Such usages should be used only when the usage is in tune with the general tone of the conversation, I hold,’ she answered.

  Kanda said: ‘Then, for those selected, a further visit, this time by the real cultural heavyweights. Another survey: the tough one. Further reports for Tokyo. And so, the final decision is made. It’s a crummy sort of bore, I know, but there are no short-cuts, I fear.’

  ‘Fear?’ she said.

  ‘Due processes, due processes,’ Kanda said.

  ‘However, it’s all quite swift,’ she said. ‘It will be concluded long before your government’s and the Museum Board’s evaluation.’

  ‘We certainly want no favours, do we, Director?’ Simberdy said.

  ‘So, this is the much cherished duck-billed platypus,’ she replied.

  ‘What I would propose is that Vincent and I take you around the buildings now, and perhaps we could discuss which areas would be most suitable for JASS.’

  ‘That seems a first-rate idea,’ Kanda said.

  In the Folk Hall, Dr Itagaki said excitedly: ‘Oh, but here is
fine light and space. Of course, we knew from the plans, but to see it in actuality is most helpful. It would be brilliantly suitable.’

  ‘Best not to get your knickers in a mix-up as to which leg goes where owing to excess enthusiasm at this stage, I believe,’ Kanda said.

  ‘There are rooms off, you see, in case one wanted specialized, subsidiary exhibitions,’ Simberdy said.

  ‘True,’ Kanda said, and led the way into the Middle Ages Domestic Scene exhibit. Even so many days after the event, Lepage felt a tremor as he followed. All was decently in place and peasant trousers, though.

  ‘Moving,’ Dr Itagaki said.

  ‘Bloody what?’ Simberdy screamed, volume suddenly back to normal-plus.

  ‘So moving. So redolent of the British spirit,’ she replied. ‘The father figure so stalwart and erect.’

  ‘Oh, right,’ Simberdy said.

  Nine

  Olive Simberdy had her legs wrapped around him. She said: ‘Give it to me now, Fatman. Give it to me. Now.’ They were in bed.

  ‘I deal in antiquity not in now,’ Simberdy replied. ‘But I’ll stretch a point for you.’ He kissed her breasts.

  ‘Yes, stretch your point for me,’ Olive said.

  They began to giggle, but not fatally. ‘God, but we’re a pair of rogues,’ Simberdy said. ‘Supposed to have done half the art thefts in the world, including Japan. It’s flattering, but I felt damn twitchy with those two and George at the Hulliborn.’

  ‘You don’t feel twitchy now.’

  ‘I’ve never had a gang moll before.’

  But he saw that Olive had left jokiness and fantasy behind and was concentrating on reality. And why not? The realities were pretty fine.

  Afterwards, when they were lying quietly, (Simberdy, a little anxiously, trying to bring down his heartbeat by willpower to at least below 300 a minute), they heard a car draw up near the house. A door slammed, and then there came the sound of running feet, approaching and later receding out of earshot. Simberdy left the bed and went to peer around the edge of the curtain into the street. ‘It’s the Vauxhall,’ he said.