Chapter 3     Hammond and I got the package into my house. I sat down and flipped the TV on. The news is one of the primary things that I watched because I like seeing what crimes I could solve in my mind from the ones that were being covered. Most of the time I could deduce who was behind whatever crime quickly and would call in tips every so often.

"Come on man," said Hammond.

"What do you mean, 'come on man?'" I asked him looking up from the TV.   

"Aren't we going to open the package?" he said flipping out his pocket knife.   

"Uh, no, I'm not going to be opening that because I didn't order anything and I don't know of anyone that has ordered me anything."   

"Have you heard of just doing something to appease the curiosity?"   

"Curiosity killed the..."   

"Cat! I know what the dang curiosity killed!" said Hammond now getting flustered.   

"With everything going on in my life right now I don't really want to open the box."   

"Something tells me that we need to open the box," said Hammond now looking concerned.

"Open the box then! I will not be participating in the opening of the box."   

Hammond stuck his knife in the box and started hacking away at the cardboard. There was a curiosity in the back of mind as to what it was, but I knew that I had been the cat to the curiosity one too many times. He got the box opened and pulled a framed piece of art out of the box. My mind almost hurt with the number of things that rushed through it by this point. I knew the painting at once because it was a favorite of mine.

"Hey man, check this out. Someone sent you a painting! It is a pretty dang good one too...its..." said Hammond.    

"It's the Clock Painting that Salvador Dali painted, isn't it," I said not having seen the painting yet.   

"Dang! How in the world would you have known that?!?" asked Hammond looking almost faint.   

"I know because I know who sent me this painting. It was Mrs. Plenty," I said with a bored smile.

In the back of my mind, I was thinking that it was my fiance's kidnapper that had sent it to me. How else would I have known what it was? Even more than that, how would the person that sent the package know that I would know that painting and that it would be a favorite of mine?   

"There is a card that came with it too," said Hammond.

The card was plain, a mere dollar card from a convenience store. Anything could have been written on the card. He read the card allowed,

"Such a nice painting, this. Too bad I had to waste it on a person such as you. Hang it on the wall or hang it all. -The Artist."

The writing on the card was fluid, written with crimson color, the blood of the captor? No, the blood of his or her next victim. The writing looked as if the writer had run out of ink by the last line, but the signature was in black writing.   

"Call the Captain and the boys at the lab. We're in for a long one with this one."   

"What do you mean by what you just said?"   

"I mean that, 'The Artist' paints their crimes on a canvas before they commit them. This is a Salvador Dali. If this is a real Salvador Dali I don't want to damage the painting by taking the overlayer off to reveal what's underneath. The underlying layer being the painting of a crime that The Artist will probably commit. I'm pretty sure its a fake and will reveal what's underneath once its authenticated to be a fake. There is something horrible painted right in front of our eyes, but I can't be sure."

I saw the way the painting was painted. It was rushed. The composition was that of an impressionist. The paint was slightly damp from being painted within the last few weeks.   

"It amazes me that you get all of what you just told me from that. Are you sure there isn't a double entendre to the painting?" asked Hammond opening a can of Dr. Pepper.    

"You would think that there would be a secret meaning behind the painting, wouldn't you? I tell you there are more than two meanings to this painting, that's the fun of it. It will have us looking for clues for days, but when you focus on the main meaning behind the painting, literally and figuratively, you will find that there is an artist's motive just beneath." Hammond called the police and they were there within minutes.

"There it is, Salvador Dali. Be extremely careful because this Dali painting is worth a lot of money. 'The Persistence of Memory' is a priceless work of art that I really don't want to destroy," I said motioning to the lab guys to get going.   

A woman stepped forward in a lab coat, white gloves on her fingers in the usual tight-as-skin look I was accustomed to seeing. She intrigued me immediately as she was petite. She wore a black dress skirt, a black flowy blouse, and small diamond cut glasses which she wore above the tip of her nose when she was examining a specimen. I stared at her as she worked.

It took a whole of a few minutes to inspect the painting. She tested flecks of the paint in a solvent to find the base of what the paint was made of. She examined the canvas composition and structure, the brush marks, the strokes, the lighting, the perspective and if the canvas was tight in the framing, and several other factors which lent themselves to the verification of the painting.    

She looked up over her glasses at me and spoke, "This painting came right to your doorstep and you have no idea where it came from?"   

"That is correct. I believe that it has a painting underneath Salvador Dali's painting of The Persistence of Memory," I explained.

"It's a good thing you called us because as far as I can see, you have a real Salvador Dali in your hands."

Hammond was sitting with his hand over his mouth, wide-eyed and speechless. I was about as speechless as he was and mystified at the findings. I was fully prepared to give my reasons for as to why it was a forgery.    

"I didn't catch your name, ummm, Miss...?" I motioned to her putting out my then gloved hand.

"Bella Burns...and your name is?"   

"Nigel Nelson is the name, and it's an auspicious one too," I said shaking her hand happily.

"This is my friend Hammond Royale." Hammond shook her hand too.

It's a pleasure to meet you two."   

"And it is a pleasure to meet you too. Now, on the grounds of the painting. It is a forgery," I started with a smile and finished with a very serious air.   

"That is completely impossible. It can't be a forgery because it is real."    

"I happen to know a few things about this painting. The painter painted it in 1931. This paint is no more than a couple months old but is aged to look much older than it is. The canvas is also aged at an expeditious rate because it doesn't have nearly the yellowing that you would see, not to mention the fact that it is cut a little bit too perfect. The real painting is in New York City and has not been sold when last I checked, and finally, it is completely the wrong size!" I said with just about one breath and I about fell over.

Hammond was smiling and held out a fist bump for which was returned my clenched fist. Bella was thoroughly impressed and looked at me like a wild mink would its prey. I backed away from the painting and sat on my phone.

"Well then, it would appear that I was not needed here and that we have a forgery on our hands," said Bella putting away her instruments.

The Captain facepalmed his hand and put his phone in his pocket. He was rather miffed at me for doing what I just did. I frankly didn't give a care. The air of which I worked was how I operated.

"Call us when you have something a bit more concrete," he said tapping me on the shoulder and walking out the front door with Bella being the first one out.

"If you ever run out of cases to work, you could always come to the lab. It would appear you know your way around some white gloves," said Bella flirtatiously.

I listened to the way she had just spoken and it sounded familiar to me, but I couldn't put my hand on it. I waved her out the door and locked it behind.

"Well, that went well!" said Hammond.

"Yes, it would seem."   

"What's the matter now, Nigel?" asked Hammond.

"Not everyone can be involved in the murder."   

"That woman had the same appearance as that lady in the department store next to the Blue Ice Cafe," I said.

A chill trickled down my spine like cold water.   

"You mean, you may have had an interaction with the murderer?"

"I very well may have."   

"She works for the lab though. Would she be that foolish?"   

"Not so much foolish, but brash maybe. I have two on the suspect list, Mrs. Plenty and Bella Burns."

I felt as if Bella was still standing there with me. I closed the curtains to keep peeping eyes out.    Hammond left the room. I took a cotton ball and swabbed a solvent onto the canvas. The paint was really hardened on the canvas. The solvent was starting to work its magic. You could see where the Salvador Dali was melting away as if time itself were stopped and the painting underneath the top layer was coming through.