Murder at the Art Fair Raises the Stakes: A Jessica Shepard Mystery

By Carol Baum

When Dr. Jessica Shepard travels to Miami to attend an international art fair, she makes friends with a precocious child, Jonathan, and his family, as she looks to purchase some paintings. She’s also reacquainted with Alain Raynaud, Canadian narcotics detective, who has been asked to evaluate security at the art fair due to his prior work at art museums in Paris.

After Jonathan’s grandfather recognizes a painting left behind in Germany when his family fled before World War II, an unexpected death occurs. Jessica is drawn into the mystery, wondering if the death was suicide or murder. No one can be trusted as gallery owners, a lawyer, an elderly woman and even her caretaker are questioned.

It will take an art curator, a former gang member, a mathematician turned magician, as well as a good game of poker to help Jessica crack the case. She must use her analytical reasoning skills to help Raynaud and the authorities prove a murder has been committed and how it is connected to a questionable piece of art.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Archway Publishing
• Release date: Feb 28, 2020
• ISBN: 9781480886339

Book preview

Copyright © 2020 Carol Baum.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping or by any information storage retrieval system without the written permission of the author except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, names, incidents, organizations, and dialogue in this novel are either the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.

Archway Publishing

1663 Liberty Drive

Bloomington, IN 47403

www.archwaypublishing.com

1 [phone]

Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Getty Images are models, and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

Certain stock imagery © Getty Images.

ISBN: 978-1-4808-8631-5 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-4808-8632-2 (hc)

ISBN: 978-1-4808-8633-9 (e)

Library of Congress Control Number: 2020903236

Archway Publishing rev. date: 02/26/2020

Contents

1 Takeoff

2 Landing

3 An Old Friend Reappears

4 Dinner with a Beat

5 A Day at the Fair

6 A Name from the Past

7 A Loss of a Friend

8 A Friend in Need

9 A Trip to the Museum

10 The Sojourn at Naples

11 A Family Council

12 A Meeting of Cousins

13 The Game Begins

14 Enter the Players

15 A Man Remembered

16 The Artist Reenters the Picture

17 Family Resemblances

18 The Host Returns

19 A Cousin Explains

20 A Grandchild’s Value

21 The Chase Begins

22 The End of One Pursuit

23 The Gambler’s Last Hand

24 Things Find Their Way

25 Home Again

1

58130.png

Takeoff

Dr. Jessica Shepard restlessly settled back into her narrow seat, clasped her seat belt firmly about her waist, and closed her eyes tightly before the plane taxied down the long runway of the New York City airport. She purposely avoided the indicator lights, which had just gone on over her head. Jessica usually enjoyed a long plane ride as a time to unwind and think about things, but flying in the winter troubled her.

Even though the ride to the airport from her home in Connecticut on this winter-weekend morning had been essentially uneventful, the cold air and drab skies of December cast a depressing pall over the trip she had been looking forward to for a while.

The plane’s cabin steadily filled with passengers who were eager to be on their way. Even the tight confinement of the plane was a welcome change after the chill of the outside air, which had managed to creep into the interior of the terminal. They were huddled in winter coats, hats, scarves, and gloves, which had to be removed and stowed away, and the travelers jostled one another to obtain overhead-storage spots. One flight crew member intermittently called out dire warnings that the plane was completely full, and the repetitive announcements added to the pandemonium in the cabin. Jessica’s closed lids distanced her from the commotion, and she leaned her head against the shade, which she had pulled down over the window next to her.

Jessica was on the flight to Miami to get away from the unusually cold winter and as a deserved respite from the endless renovation of her house, which had absorbed her for the past few months. Like a slap in the face, the heater in her basement had unexpectedly stopped working. The breakdown had happened in the middle of one of the coldest nights that year, making the lack of heat even more wretched. After getting the unit replaced, she had decided enough was enough; it was time to put the home improvements on hold.

But she had a more self-indulgent reason for the trip, which she was excited about. She planned to attend the international art fair to be held that week in the balmy city of Miami. Jessica loved art; it was a passion. She had insisted that the inside walls of her house be painted a flat white in order to have a blank palette to work with when she found artwork that called out to her; she had fantasized that she would fill the whiteness with her cherished acquisitions, securing them to those spaces, one by one. To date, nothing had answered her heart’s call, so those barren white walls had reproached her for her inability to cover their nakedness, until, while thumbing through a decorating magazine, she saw an advertisement for the art fair. Jessica noticed it as she savored the restored heat chugging out of a new gas heater and almost choked on the steaming cup of hot cocoa that she had been drinking to keep warm until the temperature in her home crept back to normal.

The ad had offered tickets to the show, with enthusiastic verbiage that praised the prestigious, international art fair and listed the works in the sponsoring gallery’s own collection to be displayed there. Vernissage tickets for the very first day of the fair had been promised and had been a temptation too great to resist. She would do it! Jessica had immediately put down her mug and gone over to her laptop to book a flight to Miami and a place to stay for the event. Then she had emailed the gallery and received her VIP ticket; it was now safely stowed away in the zippered pouch of her shoulder bag nestled by her feet below the seat in front of her.

But, Mom, I really wanted to sit by the window! I want to be able to see outside. You promised!

Jessica opened her eyes, roused from her daydreams by the plaintive tones of disappointment coming through the puffed-out lips of a young boy in a forest-green ski jacket and a baseball cap. He was standing in the aisle of the airplane at the level of her row. Behind him was a slightly younger than middle-aged woman of medium height, who was struggling to get their luggage through the space between the close seats on either side of the aisle. She was clearly his mother; both had freckles scattered over their noses and cheeks and unruly, dark, curly hair.

I’m so sorry, the woman said, a smile spreading over her face. It’s Jonathan’s first trip on an airplane, and we made the arrangements too late to get him a window seat. He’s a little disappointed because I had promised to try to get him one. It’s caused him to be rude. Sorry. He really should know better than this. She gave the boy a slight nudge to make him sit down in the middle seat next to Jessica. Despite her words, the gentle movement of her hand against the boy’s shoulder was more of a caress than a push.

Please don’t worry about it. That’s no problem at all. I’ll move over to the aisle seat. I don’t mind in the least. I’d be grateful for the extra leg room, to tell the truth. The space between the rows seems to get smaller and smaller every time I fly—though I’m not exactly what you would call tall.

Jessica vacated her seat and moved out into the aisle, allowing the boy to happily plop into the window seat. He immediately opened the shade that Jessica had pulled down. A nearby steward appeared in a flash, extremely eager to get the boarding process completed, and took the luggage from the boy’s mother to bring up to the front of the plane. Jessica’s new seatmate sat down between her son and Jessica, obviously extremely grateful that everything had been so painlessly arranged.

I’m Eva Bloom, she said once they were settled, extending her hand across the tight armrest in a formal gesture quaintly at odds with the required intimacy of their newly enforced, close quarters on the plane.

Jessica Shepard, Jessica said warmly as she shook her hand. If this is your son’s first plane trip, is this also your first trip to Miami?

Mine, no, but his, yes, Eva said, gesturing with a quick tilt of her head toward her son. This is Jonathan, she said, reintroducing the boy, who was now totally transfixed by the view from the window seat as the plane climbed steadily upward into the air. We’re going to visit my father, his grandfather. He moved down to Miami last year after my mother passed away. He’s on his own now. He had always wanted to live in a warm climate, and Miami had been his first choice for it. He liked the beaches and the choice of cultural activities and said he felt like he belonged there. My mother hadn’t been as eager to live there, so they never did. I was a little reluctant, to tell you the truth, when he decided to make the move, being so far away from us. But after thinking about it, my husband and I thought maybe the sun and warm weather—as well as the change—would actually be a good thing for him. Maybe it would help him to enter a new phase of his life, we thought. And, in any case, he could always come back to New York if he didn’t like it.

I’m so sorry about your loss, Jessica said, realizing only after she said it that it wasn’t a very original condolence. She hoped it didn’t sound glib, as she wanted her sympathy to be heartfelt, particularly as Eva seemed to have a subtle air of melancholy about her. Eva was a pleasant enough woman on the surface of their brief acquaintance, yet there was seriousness about her way of speaking that suggested some past sorrows. You know, I’m a doctor—an immunologist by training—but when I was in clinical practice, I held the hand of many a patient who went through this set of circumstances. So I know how hard it is to lose a parent. I also lost my parents, so I also understand the feeling on a personal level.

My father’s a stubborn man, despite his age—he’s now ninety years old—but he still insists on doing everything by himself. I’ve been fretting about him. When Jonathan had his school break, I thought I’d take him down for a visit so we could spend some time together. My husband, Mark, is a physics professor, and I think he was actually eager for some time by himself to catch up on his work, though he would never admit that, of course.

Well, this trip should give you and Jonathan a great opportunity to connect with your dad. I’m sure your father will also be delighted to have this special time alone with you and your son. It’ll be fun. There’s so much in Miami that you can all do together.

Are you also visiting relatives or friends? I see you’re traveling by yourself.

No. To be honest, I’m being a bit more selfish than you in my motives for traveling. I’m going to see if I can find some paintings for my home. The walls are still bare, as they say. I plan to remedy that, and I thought I’d take a trip at the same time. And what better place to go to but Miami in December, right? It’s just been so darn cold up north.

Oh. Are you attending the art fair in Miami? I’ve heard about it, and I was curious myself. I’ve never been there, but I’ve always wondered what it’s like.

What fair? Jonathan suddenly chimed in. All signs of his discontent had disappeared. Having obtained the easily won window seat, it seemed to Jessica that he was ready to move on and join the conversation going on next to him between his mother and the lady who had helped him get his way.

"It’s an art fair, Jonathan, Eva said, enunciating each word, as though each syllable’s dramatic emphasis would demonstrate how unlikely it was that he would enjoy it. I don’t think it would interest you at all. I doubt you would like it. You’d probably just be bored." But Jonathan looked as though his curiosity was still seriously piqued by the idea.

Actually, he might find it entertaining, Jessica said, before further battle lines were drawn. How old is Jonathan?

Ten.

I think that’s old enough. From what I’ve been reading, there’ll be a lot of modern pieces that wouldn’t be too boring for him to take a look at. Also, there won’t just be paintings, but there should also be sculpture and mixed-media items that might be more appealing to a young man’s taste. There might even be other children going, so he probably wouldn’t feel that out of place. Jessica smiled at the boy’s obviously growing enthusiasm. It was clear to her that he was quite bright. Another thing, maybe your father would like it, if he wanted to go as well. Is your father still active?

Oh. Goodness yes. Active is just the word for him. If you saw him, you wouldn’t believe he was ninety years old. He’s a very strong man—in more ways than one, I might add.

Eva’s last comment exuded pride. Jessica wondered what history was possibly there to make Eva describe him that way, but Jessica didn’t have time to consider the question any further. By now, Jonathan was so clearly convinced it would be a great idea for his mother, grandfather, and him to go to the art fair that he was practically popping out of his seat with excitement. Jessica could tell he was the type of child that easily drew people into his circle, and she had been chosen to enter it. He soon made it obvious that if they went with her, it would be an even better time than if Jessica wasn’t there.

I’ll look for you, Jessica, as soon as we get there, Jonathan said, extremely confident that the plan had been agreed upon by all involved parties. He was allowing for no disagreement. He was now barely controlling his elation at the prospect of the devised outing that he was so essential in engineering.

Well. I guess that’s settled then, Eva said, her gentle smile reappearing in earnest this time, any hint of melancholy now wiped away from her face. By the way, what day are you going, Jessica? I imagine, if you’re looking seriously to buy some pieces, you’ll want to be there every day of the fair, wouldn’t you?

Not necessarily, Jessica said. Look. Why don’t you leave me a message at my hotel once you solidify all your plans and decide which day and time works best for you? Then we can meet there. She wrote out her hotel information for Eva to have on hand. I’m looking forward to it. Jessica reached across Eva and gave a soft fist bump to Jonathan’s outstretched fist, in celebration of their victory in overcoming his mother’s skepticism about the proposed expedition. Their anticipated plans arranged to their mutual satisfaction, the three relaxed back into their seats for the rest of the flight. Jessica decided to take the opportunity to catch up on the sleep she had missed in getting up so early that morning and which had so far been pleasantly delayed by the interaction with her new traveling companions. Accordingly, she dozed off, content that her next stop would be the sunny warmth of Miami.

2

58130.png

Landing

The fasten seat belt warning beeped loudly, rousing Jessica as the aircraft started to make its final descent to Miami International Airport.

Is this it? Is this it? Jonathan was glued to the view out the coveted window, while the plane gradually headed down, closer and closer to the sun-bleached green landscape beneath them. They landed with a thud, and the plane came to a full stop. The chaos in the cabin, which had been part of the preparation for takeoff back in New York City, returned as the passengers bustled off the plane at its new destination. Jessica grabbed her shoulder bag from under the seat in front of her and managed to successfully extract her suitcase from the overhead bin. She helped Eva and Jonathan gather their belongings from the front of the plane, where the luggage had remained during the flight. Then the three newfound friends left the aircraft; they were a small group in the crush that was moving them ever forward and out into the arrival terminal.

Remember. Don’t forget. We’ll see you soon at the art fair. You promised. I want you to meet my grandpa, Jonathan called back to Jessica over his shoulder as they separated. Eva pulled her carry-on luggage after her with one hand, pushing Jonathan along with the other, so as not to lose him in the crowd. Soon, mother and son started to disappear into the flow of people continuously moving along. Before being totally lost from view, Eva looked back and gave Jessica one last nod and a smile.

You bet, Jessica called back loudly, standing on her tiptoes to be better heard over the heads of the travelers surrounding her, hoping Jonathan and Eva could make out what she was saying. I’ll be waiting for your message. Remember to leave it at my hotel.

Jessica then found herself alone, though still in the midst of vacationers hurrying by her in the busy airport terminal. She located a quiet spot with some difficulty; checking her cell phone for messages and emails, she was satisfied there was nothing pressing she had to immediately deal with. She then took the shuttle to the main area of the airport, where she knew she could find some transportation to her hotel.

As Jessica looked out the window of the elevated tram, she had the welcome shock to the senses of seeing tall palm trees, their leaves glistening in the bright sun, whose rays were shining against the glass confines of the carriage. It was just the sight she had been waiting for. Although the humidity on the outside caused fogging of the window glass due to the cold dryness of the air-conditioning inside, the contrast of warm outside and cold inside felt positively strange to her and was a welcome sign that she had left a Northeastern winter far behind her.

Exiting the tram a few minutes later, Jessica found a car-rental desk, deciding the thing to do while in Miami was to treat herself to a convertible. But her self-gratification proved short-lived because, having spotted her chosen car in the associated garage, she soon learned that managing the removal of its retractable roof was not as easy as the rental agent had confidently suggested. While trying to bring down the roof, it got stuck midway, and she couldn’t seem to get it to move an inch from that position, either up or down.

Jessica saw a group of workmen in construction vests, unloading orange cones from a truck in a side area of the garage that was being repaved.

Excuse me, she called over to them. I wonder if you could help me—

Before she could complete the sentence, one of the men, a small man with a balding head that was glistening with sweat from the heat, yelled to his partner, Hey, Al, come over here and help me. Another renter can’t get the top of their rental car down.

Jessica’s savior, who she later found out was Tom, got an angry reply from Al. Well, tell her to go back to the rental kiosk and get some help there. We can’t be doing this all day.

Oh, come on, Al, the lady needs help, and that kid in the kiosk will never send anyone over. She’ll sweat herself into a sea of water before anyone gets over here.

Jessica saw Al grudgingly agree that he was her only chance of getting the car’s top down, and he strolled over, showing her that finally someone who knew what he was doing was coming to her assistance.

Thank you. I really appreciate it, she said when Al had reached the car.

That’s all right. It happens all the time.

As he proceeded to play with the controls, Jessica soon found herself in the midst of a small team of experts, as people passing by added to the group to offer their suggestions. Each one of them seemed dedicated to providing her with sound advice; they were thoroughly engaged in giving