“The police tell me they are investigating.” Angelica sniffed. “But I must say, as a business owner, it is of serious concern when the artists I invest in can’t manage to keep track of their own work. My opening was ruined!”

“It’s not Mona Pearl’s fault that someone decided to steal her statue,” I said. “It’s important to learn who did, though. The thief could strike again at any moment. If the heists continue, River Heights’s arts revival might be over before it begins. Wouldn’t that be awful?”

Angelica Velvet waved a hand in my face. “Don’t fool yourself, child,” she scoffed. “River Heights was never going to be the next arts destination. I only opened my gallery here because Duchess Strickland gave me the building practically for free. It was Duke’s factory once, when he was selling cat toys.”

“Interesting. Do you think the person who stole the statue from your gallery knew it belonged to the Duchess?”

“It’s likely, I’m sure, given our long business arrangement. Duchess Strickland was my first-ever client. I’ve sold every piece she’s ever brought to market. Or, at least, I used to. We haven’t spoken in years, and even when we were on good terms, she never so much as invited me for tea at the mansion! At least, not until now, along with everyone else in this backwater town.”

“But she gave you that building for your gallery. Doesn’t that show she’s at least a little bit grateful?”

“I’m doing a public service, really, bringing cutting-edge artists to this soulless suburb. The question is whether your fellow normals can learn to appreciate my taste.”

Angelica’s cold blue eyes kept scanning the room, looking for more important people to talk to. I could tell she was growing irritated with me, but I had to ask one last question.

“Artists like Diana Yip and Mona Pearl don’t come around every day. Don’t you think they deserve another chance to perform?”

“I can’t work up much sympathy for Miss Pearl. I gave her a shot as a favor to her grandmother. But what I saw didn’t impress me. Without the statue, those girls are nothing but a couple of edgy ballerinas. No, a woman of my fine taste is interested only in visionary, original art. Tonight there’s only one artist I’m interested in. D. Shammas, creator of the jewels of the Duchess’s collection. I’d like to know where she’s keeping those portraits. …” Angelica craned her neck, trying to see beyond the foyer to the artistic treasures of the Strickland mansion’s inner galleries.

“Are you absolutely sure you don’t know what happened to that statue? I’m sorry to keep asking, but I’m just so curious. Maybe it was simply misplaced by one of your gallery staff—”

“I refuse to answer such an insulting question.”

Angelica Velvet stormed off, her caftan billowing behind her like an angry wind. I handed my deconstructed jacket to the coat-check boy. What Angelica had said made me think. Angelica Velvet would want to ensure there was lots of buzz around her new business because buzz brought in customers. So maybe a failed gallery opening was even better than a successful one. But would Angelica Velvet steal from her benefactor just for the attention?