Chapter 7 chapter Five

Dana's mother Erin called out of the blue. "Dana, honey. I have something very exciting to tell you!" "Really, mother?" "I'm getting married." Dana was taken aback: "What?" "Yes, I was visiting a friend in Westport, Connecticut, and she introduced me to this absolutely lovely man." "I—I'm so excited for you, Mom. This is great." "He's—he's so—" she giggled. "I can't describe him, but he's so cute. You're going to like him." Dana asked cautiously, "How long have you known him?"

"Long enough, honey. We were made for each other. I'm so lucky." "Does he have a job?" Dana asked. "Don't question me like my father. Of course he has a job. He's a very successful insurance salesman. His name is Peter Tomkins. He has a nice house in Westport, and I So longing for you and Kimball to come up and meet him. Are you coming?" "Of course we're coming." "Peter is anxious to see you. He's told everyone how famous you are. Are you sure you can come?" "Yes." Dana didn't work on weekends, so there would be no problem: "Kenmore and I are looking forward to it."

Dana told Kemore when she picked him up at school: "You're going to meet your grandma. We're going to be a real family, honey." "Dope." Dana smiled: "Dope is right." Dana and Kenmore drove to Connecticut early Saturday morning.Dana looked forward to the trip to Westport with great anticipation. "It's good for everyone," Dana reassured Kenmore. "All grandparents need grandchildren to pamper them. That's one of the best things about raising kids. And you get to stay with them sometimes." .” Kenmore asked nervously, "You'll be there too, won't you?"

Dana squeezed his hand tightly: "I'll be there." Peter Tomkins' home was a charming old cottage on Bradbroke Street, with a babbling brook running beside it. "Hey, that's pretty cool," Kenmore said. Dana ruffled Kenmore's hair. "I'm glad you like it here. We'll be back more often." The front door of the villa opened, and Eileen Evans stood in the doorway.From the traces of beauty that are still faintly visible on her body, one can imagine the charm of the day, but the suffering has painted a cruel touch on the past.This is Dorian Gray's situation.Her beauty has been passed down to Dana.Standing next to Irene was a middle-aged, kind-looking man with a smile on his face.

Erin rushed up and took Dana into her arms: "Dana, honey! Ah, this is Kimball!" "Mother……" Peter Tomkins said, "So this is the famous Dana Evans, huh? I've introduced you to all my clients." He turned to Kenmore. "This is the kid." He noted To Kenmore missing an arm: "Hey, you didn't tell me he was crippled." Dana's blood froze.She saw the shock on Kemore's face. Peter Tomkins shook his head. "He's a rich boy if he's been insured with our company before this." He turned to the door. "Come on. You must be hungry."

"Never again," Dana said stiffly.She turned to Erin. "I'm sorry, Mom, but Kenmore and I are going back to Washington right away." "I'm sorry, Dana. I—" "Me too. I hope you're not making a huge mistake. Have a great wedding." "Dana—" Dana's mother watched in dismay as Dana and Kenmore got into the car and drove off. Peter Tomkins stared at them dumbfounded. "Hey, what did I say?" Erin Evans sighed. "Nothing, Pete. Nothing." Kenmore was silent all the way home.Dana glanced at him now and then. "I'm so sorry, honey. Some people are just ignorant."

"He's right," said Kenmore sharply. "I'm crippled." "You're not disabled," Dana said excitedly. "You can't judge a person by how many arms and legs he has. You can judge a person by how he is." "Oh? Then who am I?" "You're a survivor. I'm proud of you. You know what? But sir's right about one thing—I'm hungry. Guess you wouldn't be interested, but I see a McDonald's up ahead." Kenmore smiled. "horrible." After Kenmore went to bed, Dana went into the living room and sat down to think.She turned on the TV and began browsing the news channels.They're both doing follow-up reporting on the Gary Winthrop murder.

"...Hopefully the stolen truck will shed some light on the identity of the killer..." "...from two bullets from a Beretta. Police are checking all gun shops to..." "...the brutal murder of Gary Winthrop in the senior North West proves that no one can..." Something haunted Dana in the back of her mind.It took her hours to fall asleep.Waking up in the morning, Dana suddenly understood what was bothering her.Cash and jewelry are in plain view.Why don't the killers take it? Dana kept thinking about what Commissioner Burnett had said as she got up to make coffee.

Do you have a list of stolen works? We have.They are all famous paintings.Lists have been distributed to museums, art dealers and collectors.When any one of them shows up, it is the time to solve the case. The thieves must have known that these paintings were not easy to get their hands on, Dana thought, which meant that some wealthy collector trying to keep the paintings for himself had planned the theft. But how could a man like that put himself in the hands of two brutal thugs? When Kenmore got up early Monday morning, Dana arranged breakfast and sent him to school. "Have a good time, dear."

"Goodbye, Dana." Dana watched as Kenmore walked through the school gates and headed for the police station on Indiana Avenue. It was snowing again, and the raging wind tore everything in its path. Detective Phoenix Wilson, who heads the Gary Winthrop homicide case, is an urban-savvy recluse with scars that testify to how he got there.He looked up when Dana entered the office. "No interview," he said gruffly. "Once there is any new development on the Winthrop homicide, you'll hear it at the press conference like everyone else." "I didn't come to ask you that," Dana said.

He looked at her suspiciously: "Oh, really?" "Really. I'm interested in the stolen paintings. You have a list of them, I suppose?" "So?" "Can you give me a copy?" Detective Wilson asked suspiciously, "Why? What are you thinking?" "I want to know what the killers took. I might have to do a segment on TV." Detective Wilson studied Dana for a moment. "That's not a bad idea. The more eye-catching the paintings, the less likely the killer will sell them." He stood up. "They took a dozen paintings and left more. Guess they didn't bother." Take them all. It's hard to find good help these days. I'll give you a copy of the report." He returned a few minutes later with two copies.He handed them to Dana. "Here's the list of stolen works, and here's another one." Dana looked at him, puzzled: "What other one?" "All the paintings owned by Gary Winthrop, including those left by the killers." "Oh thank you. I need it so much." In the corridor, Dana compared the two lists carefully.What you see is confusing.Dana went outside in the cold, heading towards the world-famous Christie's auction house, the snow was falling even harder, and people were busy finishing their Christmas shopping before heading back to the warmth of their homes and offices. As soon as Dana arrived at Christie's, the manager recognized her immediately: "Oh! What a pleasure, Miss Evans. Can we help you?" Dana explained: "I have two lists of paintings here. If anyone could tell me how much they are worth, I would be very grateful." "Of course, we are very happy, please go this way..." Two hours later Dana was in Matt Baker's office. "There is something very strange." Dana said. "We're not going back to cowardly conspiracy theories, are we?" "You tell me." Dana handed Matt the longer of the two lists. "Here are all the works that Gary Winthrop owns. I just took them to Christie for an appraisal." Matt Baker glanced at the list: "Hey, I see some heavyweights. Vincent van Gogh, Hals, Matisse, Monet, Picasso, Manet." He looked up: " So?" "Look at the list again," Dana said.She handed Matt the short list of the stolen works. Matt read aloud: "Camilla, Pissarro, Maria Lorenson, Paul, Koehler, Maurice Utrillo, Henri Le Basque. What do you think?" Dana said slowly, "Many of the works on that full list are worth over $10 million each." She paused: "The vast majority of works stolen on the short list were worth only twenty million dollars or less." Matt Baker was surprised, "The thieves are taking relatively cheap works?" "That's right." Dana leaned forward. "Matt, if they were professional thieves, they'd take all the cash and jewelry lying around. We thought someone hired them to steal the more Valuable work. But judging by these two lists, they don't know anything about art. So why the hell are they hired? Gary Winthrop is unarmed, why would they kill him?" "You mean the robbery was just a cover-up, and the real motive for breaking in was murder?" "That's the only explanation I can think of." Matt swallowed. "Let's check. Assuming Taylor Winthrop did have a feud and was murdered—why would he want to wipe out his entire family?" "I don't know," Dana said, "and that's what I'm trying to figure out." Dr. Armand Deutsch, one of Washington's most prestigious psychologists, was an imposing septuagenarian with a broad forehead and piercing blue eyes.He glanced at Dana as she walked in. "Miss Evans?" "Yes. Thank you for seeing me, Doctor. The reason I need to see you is very important." "What is so important?" "Have you seen the news of the deaths of the Winthrop family?" "Of course. Terrible tragedy. What an accident." Dana said, "What if they weren't accidents?" "What? What are you talking about?" "It's possible they were all murdered." "Winthrop murdered? That seems too far-fetched, Miss Evans. Too far-fetched." "But it's possible." "What made you think they might have been murdered?" "It's—it's just a hunch," Dana admitted. "I see. A hunch." Dr. Deutsch sat there, studying her. "I saw your coverage in Sarajevo. You are a good reporter." "Thank you." Dr. Deutsch leaned forward on his elbows, his blue eyes fixed on her. "So not so long ago you were in the midst of a terrible war, weren't you?" "yes." "Reporting people being raped, being killed, babies being slaughtered..." Dana listened carefully. "You're obviously under a lot of stress." Dana said, "Yes." "How long have you been back—five or six months?" "Three months," Dana said. He nodded, very satisfied: "It didn't take long to adjust to civilian life again, did it? You must have had nightmares about all the horrific murders you witnessed, and now your subconscious is imagining—" Dana interrupted him: "Doctor, I'm not paranoid. I have no proof, but I have reason to believe that the deaths of the Winthrop family were not accidental. I came to see you because I hope you can help me." "Help you? How can I help?" "I need motivation. What motivation does one need to destroy an entire family?" Dr. Deutsch stared at Dana and held up his finger. "Such atrocious violations of course have precedents. A blood feud...revenge. In Italy, the Mafia is known for killing families. Or maybe it involved drugs .It could be vengeance for some terrible tragedy inflicted on the family. Or a madman without any reason...” "I don't think that's the case," Dana said. "Then, of course, there is one of the oldest motives in the world—money." money.Dana had already thought of this. Walter Culkin, head of Taylor & Anderson Partners, has been Winthrop's family lawyer for over twenty-five years.He was an old man, crippled by arthritis, and although his body was very weak, his mind was still sharp. He watched Dana for a while: "You tell my secretary you want to talk to me about the Winthrop estate?" "yes." He sighed: "I can't believe that something like that could happen to such a nice family. I can't believe it." "I heard you were in charge of their legal and accounting affairs," Dana said. "yes." "Mr. Caulkin, has there been anything unusual about these affairs during the past year?" He looked at Dana curiously: "Which aspect is abnormal?" Dana said cautiously, "It's hard to say, but—are you aware that someone in the family ... has been blackmailed?" A moment of silence. "You mean, do I know they're paying someone a lot of money on a regular basis?" "yes." "I guess I know, yes." "Is there such a thing?" Dana asked. "Not at all. I think you're implying something illegal? I have to tell you that I think it's just ridiculous." "But they're all dead," Dana said. "The estate must be worth billions of dollars. I would appreciate it if you could tell me who deserves it." She watched as the lawyer unscrewed a bottle of medicine, took out a pill and swallowed it with water: "Miss Evans, we never discuss the client's private affairs." He paused: "But this time, I don't see any harm, because There will be a press release tomorrow." There has always been one of the oldest motives in the world - money. Walter Culkin stares at Dana: "With the death of Gary Winthrop, the last survivor of the family—" "Huh?" Dana held her breath. "The entire fortune of Winthrop is donated to charity."