Hidden Riches

potential.”
    “What I told you in your office was exactly the truth. He broke in here and attacked me.”
    “I’m quite sure you had some sort of falling out. Greed and sex working against one another, I would assume.” His eyes narrowed, glinting dully. “Did you find another, more inventive man, Isadora, one you could maneuver and pit against poor Mr. DiCarlo so that he came to me with some feeble excuse for not returning my property?”
    “The painting was not your property. You stole it. And I was never involved with DiCarlo.”
    “And when he didn’t return,” Finley continued as if she hadn’t spoken, “you became concerned and decided to test the waters with me yourself. Oh, you were very clever. So charming, so distressed. I very nearly believed you. There was just one niggling doubt in my mind, which proved sadly true once I witnessed the events of this afternoon. I’m disappointed that you turned to the police, Isadora. Settling for a finder’s fee.” He wagged a finger at her scoldingly. “I thought more of you than that. You’ve cost me two very good men, and a painting I wanted very much. Now how are we to reconcile?”
    Too terrified to sit, she sprang to her feet. “They have your Mr. Winesap down at police headquarters. He’ll be telling them all about you by now.”
    “Do you think he would have the nerve?” Finley considered it a moment, then moved his shoulders in elegant dismissal. “Perhaps. But don’t be concerned. Mr. Winesap will very soon suffer a tragic and fatal accident. I wouldmuch rather talk about my painting, and how you think I can retrieve it.”
    “You can’t.”
    “But surely, since you’ve been such a help, the police have told you where they’ve secured it.”
    She said nothing, only because it surprised her so much that she hadn’t thought to ask.
    “I thought so.” Finley smiled broadly as he rose. “Just tell me where it is, Isadora, and leave the rest to me.”
    “I don’t know where.”
    “Don’t lie, please.” He slipped his hand into the inside pocket of his Savile Row suit and pulled out a highly polished Luger. “Gorgeous, isn’t it?” he asked when Dora’s eyes fastened on the barrel. “A German make, used in World War II. I like to think that a Nazi officer killed quite efficiently with it. Now, Isadora, where is my painting?”
    She looked helplessly into his eyes. “I don’t know.”
    The force of the bullet slammed her back against the wall. Even as the fire erupted in her shoulder, she didn’t believe he’d shot her. Couldn’t believe it. Dazed, she touched a finger to the worst of the heat and stared blindly at her blood-smeared fingers. She was still staring at them when she slid limply down the wall.
    “I really think you’d better tell me.” All reason, Finley stepped up to where Dora lay in a boneless heap. “You’re losing a great deal of blood.” He crouched down, mindful not to stain his suit. “I don’t want to cause you unnecessary distress. It took DiCarlo hours to die after I shot him. But there’s no need for you to suffer like that.” He sighed when she only whimpered. “We’ll give you a little time to compose yourself, shall we?”
    Leaving her bleeding, he began to methodically examine her treasures, one by one.
     
    “The little bastard sure did sing.” Brent felt like singing himself as he cut through traffic toward South Street.
    “I don’t like cutting deals with weasels,” Jed muttered.
    “Even for a big fat weasel like Finley?”
    “Even for that.” He checked his watch. “I’ll feel better when I know that LAPD’s picked him up.”
    “The warrant’s in the works, pal. He won’t be sleeping in his own bed tonight.”
    There was some comfort in that. Some small comfort. Jed would have been happier if he could have taken the man down himself. “You didn’t have to come this far out of your way. I could have caught a cab.”
    “Nothing’s too good for the captain. Not tonight. And if I were you, I wouldn’t wait until morning to give a certain gorgeous brunette the good news.”
    “She needs to sleep.”
    “She needs some peace of mind.”
    “She ought to get plenty of it in Aruba.”
    “Come again?”
    “Nothing.” Jed turned to scowl at the light sleet that began to fall as they turned onto South.
     
    “Now then.” Finley sat down again, pleased when Dora found the strength to push herself to a sitting position against the wall. The blood seeping out of the