Theft in Sleepy Hollow: Sophie's Adventures, #2

By Nupur Tustin

In Sleepy Hollow, a Monet is in danger of being spirited away . . .

But undercover art sleuth Sophie Fisher—aka Jeanne Sophie Poisson—is on the trail of the brazen art thief. 

From a Hudson River cruise to Cold Spring to a spooky lantern-light tour of Sleepy Hollow Cemetery, Sophie will do whatever it takes to capture the thief . . .

And prevent him from spiriting away a valuable work of art!

 

From the author of the Joseph Haydn Mysteries and the Celine Skye Psychic Mysteries, comes a delightful new series!

• Language: English
• Publisher: Nupur Tustin
• Release date: Nov 25, 2023
• ISBN: 9798223255642

Nupur Tustin

A former journalist, Nupur Tustin relies upon a Ph.D. in Communication and an M.A. in English to orchestrate fictional mayhem.  The Haydn mysteries are a result of her life-long passion for classical music and its history. Childhood piano lessons and a 1903 Weber Upright share equal blame for her original compositions, available on ntustin.musicaneo.com. Her writing includes work for Reuters and CNBC, short stories and freelance articles, and research published in peer-reviewed academic journals. She lives in Southern California with her husband, three rambunctious children, and a pit bull. For details on the Haydn series and monthly blog posts on the great composer, visit the official Haydn Mystery web site: ntustin.com.

Book preview

Nupur Tustin

Theft in Sleepy Hollow

Sophie’s Adventures

First published by Foiled Plots Press 2023

Copyright © 2023 by Nupur Tustin

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, scanning, or otherwise without written permission from the publisher. It is illegal to copy this book, post it to a website, or distribute it by any other means without permission.

This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the author's imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental.

Nupur Tustin asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work.

First edition

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Contents

Acknowledgement

All Hallows’ Eve in America?

A Costume for a Spy

Farewell to Romance

Dinner With Degas

A Disturbing Discovery

Cruise on the Hudson

An Accomplice in Sleepy Hollow

Surprise in Cold Spring

A Date to Remember

A Degas in Hiding?

Tryst With a Thief

Sophie’s Replica

A Haunted Hay Ride

Pumpkins and Ghosts

A Monet in Jeopardy

Fairchild’s Plan

The Ballerina’s Shoe

An Arrest and a Kiss

About the Author

Also by Nupur Tustin

Acknowledgement

Many thanks to Della Heywood, owner of SpectraFix Artist Materials, for her insight on using fixatives on pastels.

All Hallows’ Eve in America?

You have vacation time coming up, I believe, Jeanne, Commandant Gabriel Lambert looked over his rimless glasses at Jeanne Sophie Poisson.

There was a kindly expression in his blue eyes as he gazed at her, which should’ve reassured Sophie. As should the presence of her cousin Pierre—Capitaine Pierre Poisson of the Police Nationale of Pas-de-Calais—who stood rigidly upright next to the Commandant’s capacious leather chair.

But her heart sank within her, nevertheless. Cousin Pierre frowned and tilted his head ever so slightly, reminding Sophie that their superior awaited her response.

Yes, monsieur. In two weeks’ time, she managed calmly enough, but it was hard to shrug off a sense of imminent doom.

If her gray-haired superior had summoned her into his office—at the close of day, no less—to discuss a matter quite so mundane as the vacation due to her, an ordinary receptionist in the Police Nationale headquarters in Calais, it could only be because he expected her to kiss that longed-for vacation goodbye.

And she’d been so looking forward to it! She’d intended to take the train to Paris. An old school friend, Nicole, lived there. They had made plans to visit the Louvre and the Eiffel Tower.

Nicole had talked excitedly of spending lazy mornings in the street cafes and evenings in the bars, where the two attractive young women could expect to encounter a little bit of excitement in the form of desirable young men.

Desirable men! Sophie looked sharply at her cousin. Was he the reason for the Commandant canceling her vacation? Cousin Pierre—an excellent man in every respect—took his duties as her guardian a little too seriously for Sophie’s liking.

No doubt Pierre disapproved of her plans for a little excitement, some heady romance in the capital. God knew, she needed the diversion after her disastrous engagement to Paul.

The Commandant’s deep voice called Sophie’s attention back to the present. To her astonishment, he was suggesting she take her vacation sooner rather than later. In two days’ time, in fact.

And might I suggest you spend it in Sleepy Hollow? he added.

Sleepy Hollow? Sophie repeated. She spend her vacation in Sleepy Hollow? What kind of ghastly place must it be with a name like that?

Some sleepy village in England, no doubt, where nothing much happened and old maids with cats spent their day gossiping. Her sharp blue eyes narrowed as her gaze shifted toward Pierre.

Had her cousin put old Lambert up to this?

What is Sleepy Hollow? she asked, staring directly at Pierre.

It’s a village in America, Jeanne. Pierre bent low enough to slide a travel brochure across the Commandant’s vast table toward her. Quite well-known, in fact.

Ah! She looked down at the colorful photos against the glossy black background of the brochure. For a village—with a most unattractive name—it boasted a fair number of attractions.

Mostly of the eerie, ghostly variety. The kind of thing that would appeal to the Lambert children, no doubt.

She raised her eyes.

Madame Lambert wishes to take the children, I expect, she hazarded a guess. And she needs a chaperone?

Lambert smiled magnanimously and leaned deep into the backrest of his chair. Oh, no, not at all. It is your Uncle Arthur—here Lambert paused to lift his eyes briefly toward his Capitaine—who requires a companion.

My Uncle Arthur? Sophie’s eyes swiveled toward Pierre as well, hoping for some kind of explanation. She wasn’t aware of having an Uncle Arthur.

On the English side of the family, Jeanne, Pierre immediately said. You recall him, don’t you? You met him when you went to London to look up Cousin Ben.

Oh, that Uncle Arthur! Sophie had met Arthur Tremont on the Chunnel. It had been quite an experience.

So Uncle Arthur wanted to travel to America, did he?

He wishes to spend All Hallows’ Eve in America, Pierre informed her, and to spend some time perfecting his artistic skills.

All Hallows’ Eve? I didn’t know the Americans celebrated it.

They call it Halloween, Jeanne, Lambert explained as Pierre pushed another brochure across the table. A time of ghosts, candy, and for some reason best known to the Americans, pumpkins.

I see. Sophie picked up the brochure. It was news to her that Uncle Arthur possessed any artistic skills worth refining. But then again she hadn’t known the man long. Who knew what mysterious depths he possessed?

A middle-aged blond man in an artist’s smock stared out at her from the pamphlet. Nigel Fairchild, according to the caption. He was, so the leaflet said, a noted expert on Impressionist techniques and a creator of authentic copies of Impressionist art.

The Warner Library in Sleepy Hollow was hosting a talk by Fairchild: Impressionist Techniques and Ways of Differentiating Genuine Works from Fakes.

It sounded fascinating. But why, Sophie wondered, was it so urgent for Uncle Arthur to drop everything—and to expect her to do the same—to travel all the way to New York for a talk that Fairchild had no doubt given more than once in his native England?

She was about to ask when Cousin Pierre directed her to open the brochure.

Fairchild will be demonstrating how to re-create two well-loved Degas works. Uncle Arthur is quite keen on attending those sessions.

It was the identity of the works that caused Sophie’s breath to catch in her throat. Both had been stolen in the not-too-distant past—one from a museum in Marseille. Neither had been recovered.

She was beginning to understand what Uncle Arthur was up