They returned to the room with the fireplace, where the painter had been working. The music still played in the room next door, something slow and quiet from a piano. The artist showed his prospective customer to a comfortable chair a few feet away from his own painting throne. No sooner did Feit take the seat than the tiny black cat leaped into his lap. The movement startled him and his left hand moved to his inner jacket before he saw what the assault was and could quell his actions.

“I hope you’re a cat fan. Henry is rather inquisitive.”

“Not a problem,” said Feit. “I have pets at home.”

“Dogs or cats?” asked the painter.

“Cats.”

“The superior beast,” said the old man, who gave a knowing smile and nodded. “Stay put. Mr. Feit, I’m going to get us some tea. Do you prefer cream and sugar or plain?”

“Plain is fine.”

“A perfect choice,” said the host, who left through a passageway toward the back of the house to fetch the refreshments. As he disappeared through a darkened doorway, the sleepers moved around the room to get a better view of Feit. The thief tossed the cat on the floor and brushed off his pants legs with a look of disgust. He then darted a glance at the door through which the artist had retreated, reached into his jacket, and took out the handgun Owen had seen on the table at the place on Margrave Street. Feit lifted his left thigh, put the gun under it, and eased his weight back down upon it.

“You can see he’s nervous,” said Melody.

“That makes two of us,” said Owen.

Minutes passed and the visitor put his right hand under his thigh repeatedly, no doubt practicing grabbing the gun. “Whatever is going to happen here isn’t going to be good,” said Melody. As she spoke, the old man came back through the doorway, pushing a silver tea cart. He poured his guest a cup and set it down on the small table next to his chair.

“Would you like a cookie?” he asked, and offered a silver tray of dainty items with frosting in a rainbow of colors.

“Forgive me, sir. I can’t have sugar.”

“Understood. We must have the same doctor.” He set the tray down and went to sit in the chair with the easel in front of him. Once settled, he leaned forward and turned the contrivance to face his visitor so the painting was in full view.

“Oh, my. That’s lovely,” said Feit. “And what are you asking for it?”

“I can let you have it for eighteen thousand dollars.”