“I have an idea,” Phoebe said. “Remember, the Pollock was our starting point. Or at least, it was our first real clue. He could have just left a note on the mantel for us saying ‘Go to Eaton House, you’ll find some stolen art there.’ But instead he sent us all the way down to Florida to find a key, then we had to try that key on each property, then you got the clue at the Dendur Ball, which sent you back to Southampton…”
“What’s your point?” Nick asked impatiently as Phoebe flushed. Why was Nick being such an ass about this? Had all the pressure finally gotten to him?
He leaned forward to touch her arm. “I’m sorry,” he said.
Phoebe nodded in resignation, but she was still annoyed. Just because it was Nick’s family they were talking about didn’t mean he was the only one who had a stake in the matter.
Genie interrupted. “What she’s trying to say, Nick, is that Palmer was giving you a roundabout tour of your heritage. Boys, where did you find the key?”
“In his study in Palm Beach,” Nick said. “Which was filled with memorabilia from his life. There were also the family photos on the mantelpiece. And all the history that was part of the Dendur Ball. The photograph of your mother, Patch. The picture of my parents.”
“So what does it all mean?” Patch asked.
“I think it’s like Horatio said. He wants us to do what we think is right,” Nick said.
“He sent you to a series of important places in your family’s history,” Phoebe said. “The question is whether he’s saying you should do what’s right for your family, or what’s right for all of us.” She thought of the memorial marker, the one Patch didn’t even know about. It was another example of something the Bells had covered up, another thing that wasn’t talked about.
Nick frowned. “We need to do what’s right for us. It’s just that-well, we can’t just let everyone know about the art-can we?”
“Perhaps he wants you to weigh out all the options,” Genie said. “Considering that you are both technically members of the Bell family.”
“Nick, I think you need to call your father,” Phoebe said. “I hate to admit it, but he’s the only person who can help us. Why don’t you leverage your knowledge of the stolen art and try to get us out of the Society? Isn’t that what Palmer wanted us to do?”
Nick nodded slowly. “I can make the call in the library. Patch, I think you should listen in.”
Phoebe bit her lip as Nick and Patch left the kitchen. Would Nick be able to stand up to his father?
It scared her that she didn’t know.
Chapter Fifty
In the library Nick called his father on every one of his numbers and finally was able to reach him on his private number that only rang in his study. He explained to his dad what they had found, about the trove of art in the basement of Eaton House. Patch listened in on an extension at the other side of the room.
“Well, you’ve done it,” Parker said. “Your grandfather’s been trying to reveal this to your brothers for the past year, and neither of them have picked up on his clues. I guess he finally had to be more blunt about it.”
“I wouldn’t exactly call sending us down to Florida, and then three times to Southampton blunt,” Nick said.
“I suppose not.”
“We’ve made a decision,” Nick said. “We want the art returned. I don’t care how you do it, but we want it returned. I’m sure, for one thing, that you’d like your Pollock back.”
“Don’t you worry about that-we’ve made back more than its value in insurance. As for the rest of the pieces, Nicholas, I don’t think that’s a good idea. Those cases have all been abandoned long ago. No one is interested anymore. It’s best just to let it go.”
“Dad, we were led to it because he wanted us to find out. Palmer wanted us to return the art.”
Nick’s father sighed. “I would prefer that weren’t the case.”
“And I want it to happen publicly. People need to know what happened. So that it can’t happen again. So the people he worked with will think twice the next time they get an offer to do something like this.”
Nick looked at Patch, who was sitting on an ottoman, his brows furrowed in concentration. Nick couldn’t blame Patch for wishing they didn’t have the same father.
“I will facilitate the return of the art,” Parker said firmly. “But it will happen anonymously.”
Nick steeled himself. “Dad, I want it to be known what happened. I know you think it’s embarrassing, but I’m tired of living under the weight of so many secrets.”
“Do you have any idea of the sort of publicity this would create? Our lives would never be the same.”
“Maybe that’s a good thing.”
“Nicholas, I will release the art, but I won’t do it publicly. The world doesn’t need to know about your grandfather’s little hobby. It’s a private family matter. You need to trust me on this.”
“What about what Palmer promised us?” Nick asked. “That we would all be released from the Society?”
Parker laughed. “You really thought it would be that easy?”
Across the room, Patch winced.
“Easy?” Nick asked. “It wasn’t easy.”
“Nick, you don’t even know what difficult is. When you’re older, you’ll understand the concept of difficult. Going to war is difficult. Starting a business is difficult. Your life isn’t anything close to difficult.”
Nick wasn’t really sure what to say to this. “Dad, I-”
Across the room, Patch held up a hand, signaling Nick to stop speaking. Nick desperately hoped Patch had a better idea for how they were going to get out. Had he just ruined their chances by giving up the one piece of information that they had against the group?
“I think we’re done here,” Parker said. “Don’t you worry. I’ll take care of everything.”
Chapter Fifty-One
You’re joking,” Phoebe said after Nick had filled her in on the conversation. “All this art is going to be returned, and your grandfather is going to go down in New York history as this wonderful, philanthropically minded man who never did anything wrong?”
Phoebe, Nick, and Patch were standing in the kitchen. Genie had gone out to the enclosed sunporch to rest.
“Look, I don’t agree with it,” Nick said. “But we don’t have a choice. He said-”
Phoebe interrupted him. “You keep saying that we don’t have a choice. But maybe it’s up to us. Maybe we’re the ones who have to break free. As long as you keep believing your father, then you’re right, you don’t have a choice.” She was angry, but she needed Nick to know how she felt.
“Phoebe, he’s threatened us in the past. The Society has done things, appalling things. I just don’t know if we can-”
“Face it, Nick, you don’t want anyone knowing about your grandfather. It’s embarrassing. It would be in the papers for months. You and your family would face so much public scrutiny. And you can’t handle that.” She took a breath and looked at Patch. “What do you think?”
“Leave me out of it,” Patch said. “I don’t-I don’t really know.”
“You’ve got to have an opinion,” Phoebe said. “It’s your family, too.”
Patch gave her an angry look. “I don’t have to have an opinion,” he snapped. “I didn’t choose this. I’ll be on the sunporch with my grandmother. The one who raised me.”
Phoebe sighed as Patch left the room.
“Great,” Nick said. “Now you’ve gone and made him feel bad. As if he’s not feeling strange enough already, with everything that’s happened.”
Phoebe decided to ignore this. But she couldn’t deny how frustrated she was. “Nick, I’m so sick of all this. And let me guess: this gets us no closer to being free of the Society than we were in the beginning of January.”
“I’m not sure,” Nick said. “I think it may have been…”
His voice trailed off.
“A setup? Admit it, Nick, we’ve played their little game once again. We’re too trusting, that’s our problem. We can’t believe them, any of them. I’m so tired of this!” She was getting hysterical, and she felt badly about yelling at Nick.