The Art Thief's Guide To Freedom

14: Step Fourteen: How To Make A Deal

"Thieves have stolen a statue of one of Britain's greatest poets in a night-time raid on the grounds of a stately home. The solid marble statue depicting a child disappeared overnight on Tuesday from Godmersham Park in Kent. Kent Police are appealing for the return of the figure, which shows the famed writer reading a book as he reclines against a post, next to a cricket bat. 'The 4ft tall solid marble statue of Lord Byron was stolen from Godmersham Park between midnight and 5 am on Wednesday,' a spokesperson says."

~Lizzie Dearden, The Independent, 23 April 2016

~**~~**~

Drops of hot water poured onto his head and slipped down the back of his neck. Will vigorously wiped his eyes and leaned his forehead against the shower wall.

A curtain of water rained down upon him, shielding his face. Staring down at the off-white ceramic tiles, Will sucked in a breath, ignoring the throbbing protest of his left side.

He probably should have mentioned it to the EMT, but that would have just given Jack another reason to bench him.

Not that the man needed any more reasons.

Based on the ear thrashing he had received on the ride back to headquarters, Will was pretty sure Jack was seconds away from asking for his badge.

Or giving him desk duty as a minimum.

Jack had done a pretty good job of masking his anger upon arriving at the scene, but once he saw that Will was going to walk away, that anger slowly melted out from behind his stoic face to manifest for the world to see.

Shaking his head, Will lifted a hand to wipe away a stray droplet that had ventured into the corner of his eye. More drops followed, streaming across his face.

He raised his head, surrendering to the torrent of lukewarm water. It invaded his senses, muffling his thoughts and washing away everything and anything.

Closing his eyes, he felt beads of water cling desperately to his eyelashes before yielding to gravity and plummeting to the tile floor.

With a deep sigh that echoed throughout the shower, Will turned off the water, the remnants swirling on the ceramic bottom before being swept down the drain.

Yanking a damp towel off the rod, Will wrapped it around his waist. Even though towards the end of his shower, the water had cooled considerably, the one mirror in the bathroom had fogged, distorting any image that passed in front of it.

Will used the palm of his hand to wipe a visible circle onto the glass so he could take a look at his injuries. He examined the scratches covering the left of his face and the mottled bruise hugging his right side to wrap around his back.

A shiver threatened to race up his spine and he braced himself against the edge of the sink, hanging his head.

It had been close.

So close.

A near-death experience shook even the most seasoned agents.

And while Will wasn't a senior agent, he still had multiple years tucked under his belt. And still his hands tremored.

He couldn't imagine what Nico was going through.

Nico.

His thoughts turned to the woman waiting in a room only a floor above him.

Someone was trying to kill her.

No, not kill her.

Send a message.