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Chapters (50)
  1. Praise
  2. Title Page
  3. Copyright Page
  4. Dedication
  5. Epigraph
  6. The Awful Truth
  7. The Life
  8. Make That Four
  9. Heaven, or: Last April at the Frick
  10. New Punch Line
  11. The J-Mart Employee of the Year Pleads His Case
  12. Reminder
  13. Auto-Nav
  14. Our Greatest Hit Hits Again, or: Who Is the Rat Burglar?
  15. I’m the Mang?
  16. Me vs. the Goldfish
  17. Size Matters
  18. Life of Crime
  19. I High-Beam the Dream
  20. What the Covet Girl Tells Me
  21. How Memory Harvesting Can Save Your Life
  22. The Sound of Our Future Together
  23. Bullet by Bullet
  24. The Effects of Drinking and Dosing
  25. A Bra Tells the Truth
  26. Gun Therapy
  27. WWPD: What Would Pinkerton Do?
  28. The Nakamura Job
  29. The Treachery of Images
  30. Herk to the Rescue
  31. The Truth About Herkimer
  32. The Polecat
  33. Do I or Don’t I?
  34. The World I Know Nothing About
  35. Kong’s Price
  36. Bathroom Talk
  37. Good Start
  38. Reunited
  39. Baconmouth
  40. Teamwork
  41. A Picture of Loveliness
  42. The Forty-fifth Murder
  43. The Unreachable
  44. Ambiguity
  45. Exit
  46. Sacrifice
  47. Otto Starks, Supernova
  48. Snitching
  49. Clean Getaway
  50. Acknowledgements

Charlie springs to her feet and crosses the distance between us. With a dainty Victorian gesture she gives me a view by offering her hand. As billed, the ring is perfectly restored.

Suddenly the boat stalls and the jib luffs loudly—it sounds like applause—but then it goes tight with wind and the point of sail corrects itself. We lurch as the boat yaws, and for a moment it looks like Charlie’s body is going to jostle into mine, but it doesn’t. She catches the lifeline and then holds very still as if afraid she might spill some of herself if not handled carefully.

“Jesus,” I say, “who’s sailing this thing?”

“It’s on auto-nav,” Charlie says. Then, tentatively: “Want to go belowdecks?”

“I don’t know,” I say. “I’m confused. I’m not even sure if this is real. I took a lot of hallucinogens. I feel pretty shaky.”

“You don’t believe this is real?”

“I don’t know what to believe.”

Her skin, bronze and taut, gleams with suntan lotion. She smells of coconut, cream, sweat, swimwear, the dense living scent of her hair, pomegranates. Then, hugging her elbows, she pushes her body forward, giftlike.

Charlie makes me believe.

Acknowledgements

Acknowledgments

This book was made possible by contributions from Michael Davies, E. Beth Thomas, Harry Sawyers, Katie Hofstadter, Senseis Dan Webster and Susan Easton, Leena Sidhu, Patrick McCord, Bill Augustin, Miriam Baron, Chris Springfield, Frank Crane, Gary Hall and Anthony Attardi of Wright Square Café, Kim Wang, and, naturally, the Pinnikins.

Special commendation to the Great and Inimitable Boz.

Incalculable gratitude to Paula Wallace and my colleagues at SCAD.

Some sources that have helped the researching of this book include INTERPOL’s database of stolen artworks, The Return of Cultural Treasures by Jeanette Greenfield, The Rape of Europa by Lynn H. Nicholas, The Art Forger’s Handbook by Eric Hebborn, The Expert Versus the Object by Ronald Spencer, Feminism and Art History edited by Norma Broude and Mary D. Garrard, Art Theft Forgery and Investigation: The Complete Field Manual by Robert E. Spiel, Jr., Rogues in the Gallery by Hugh McLeave, Museum of the Missing by Simon Houpt, and nearly everything by Thomas Hoving, who gave a talk in Savannah recently that I—curse my hide—had to miss; I hope he will accept my gratitude here.

I am fortunate beyond words to say that the following people at Riverhead are mine: Pam Barricklow, Sheila Moody, Ben Gibson, Tom Haushalter, Sarah Bowlin, and the redoubtable Megan Lynch. Additional special thanks to Geoff Kloske.

And Esther Newberg, Josie Freedman, Kari Stuart: thank you a googolplex.

002

1

It inspires that feeling of awe and moment, true enough, but I’m probably also fishing for a benediction: I feel like if I can convince a freaking K’plua that my deception isn’t so bad, then maybe Charlie will be able to forgive me, too.

2

God, I am out of practice.

3