“A bit of post-Masterpiece housekeeping.”

“Of what sort?”

“The final interservice operational review,” Shamron said disdainfully. “My personal nightmare. For the past few days, I’ve been locked in a room at Thames House with two dozen British and American spies who think it is their God-given right to ask me any question they please.”

“It’s a new world, Ari.”

“I like the old ways better. They were less complicated. Besides, I’ve never played well with others.”

“Why didn’t Uzi handle the review himself?”

“Uzi is far too busy to deal with something so trivial,” Shamron said sardonically. “He asked me to take care of it. I suppose it wasn’t a complete waste of time. There were some fences that needed mending. Things got a little tense in the ops center on the final night.”

“How did I manage to stay off the invitation list for this little gathering?”

“Graham Seymour felt you deserved a break.”

“How thoughtful.”

“I’m afraid he does have a couple of questions before the case file can be officially closed.”

“What sort of questions?”

“About the art end of the affair.”

“Such as?”

“How did Landesmann know the Rembrandt had resurfaced?”

“Gustaaf van Berkel of the Rembrandt Committee.”

“What was the connection?”

“Who do you think was the committee’s main source of funding?”

“Martin Landesmann?”

Gabriel nodded. “What better way to find a long-lost Rembrandt than to create the most august body of Rembrandt scholars in the world? Van Berkel and his staff knew the location of every known Rembrandt. And when new paintings were discovered, they were automatically brought to Van Berkel and his committee for attribution.”

“How Martin,” said Shamron. “So when the painting was moved to Glastonbury for cleaning, Martin hired a professional to steal it for him?”

“Correct,” said Gabriel. “But his thief turned out to have a conscience, something Martin was never burdened with.”

“The Frenchman?”

“I assume so,” said Gabriel. “But under no circumstances are you to say anything about Maurice Durand to the British.”

“Because you made a deal with him?”

“Actually, it was Eli.”

Shamron gave a dismissive wave of his hand. “As someone who’s devoted your life to preservation of paintings, have you no misgivings about protecting the identity of a man who has stolen billions of dollars’ worth of art?”

“If Durand hadn’t given that list of names and account numbers to Hannah Weinberg, we would never have been able to break Martin. The list was Martin’s undoing.”

“So the end justifies the means?”

“You’ve made deals with people who are far worse than a professional art thief, Ari. Besides, Maurice Durand might come in handy the next time the Office needs to steal something. If I were Uzi, I’d stick him in my back pocket along with Martin Landesmann.”

“He sends his regards, by the way.”

“Uzi?”