Michael Prescott and the Case of the French China: Chapter 5
By 7:00 AM the next morning, Michael Prescott was ready for his meeting with Mr. Alejandro Baraclough, who lived at the Baraclough-Compeau Manor on 5th Avenue, right across the street from Central Park. However, before he headed out, he decided to read the morning paper. As he went outside to grab the paper from his apartment doorstep, he got a nasty surprise. Instead of a newspaper, there was a note from his landlord informing him that he owed a sum of $45,000 for damages, and until the total amount was paid, all nonessential amenities were effectively canceled, and if payment was not issued by the end of the month, he would be evicted, and would still have to pay. “Darn it. Lousy landlord. Always tries to sucker me out of my money. I should take him to court.” He grumbled and decided to head to a diner for breakfast, and then maybe buy a paper from a newsboy on his way to the bank to withdraw money to help pay for the bill.
After withdrawing money, having breakfast, and buying a paper, Michael Prescott hand-delivered the payment to the landlord personally, with a note on top of it saying that if the landlord were to try this again, he would sue for liabilities, including failure to meet health and safety regulations. As he walked out of the landlord’s office, Michael could hear the landlord cursing and screaming at him, threatening to evict him. Despite this, Michael headed out to go meet with Mr Baraclough, with his notes on the case and his questions for Mr Baraclough. As he stepped outside of his building, he noticed a gaggle of reporters surrounding the Museum of Modern Art’s main entrance, along with a group of people standing nearby. Deciding that it may help with the case, Michael headed over to check it out. As he got nearer, he saw that the museum’s new Director was speaking about security. “… and so, until we can truly say that the Museum of Modern Art is safe and criminals are not going to be able to break in, the Museum of Modern Art will be closed.” The Director was saying.
“Dang!” Prescott exclaimed quietly, “Now the MoMA is closed?”
“Yep.” A voice said from behind.
As Michael turned around, he saw that Anne Richie was standing there, dressed in a black cocktail dress with a fur coat, along with a clutch purse in her hand.
“Does it have anything to do with the Metropolitan Museum of Art?” he asked.
“You bet it does.” Anne replied.
“Let me guess. The Director got spooked because of the theft at the Met, and decided to shut down the museum.”
“Yup.” Anne confirmed.
“I love to chat, but I need to work on the case. How ‘bout we meet at the Birdland tonight at 8:30?” Michael asked.
“Sure.” Anne told him, and then she walked away.
As Michael walked toward the entrance to the subway, he smiled, thinking about how he was definitely going somewhere with the case, when a thought suddenly struck him. What if the case wasn’t stolen? What if the thief stole the case with the China in it, which was bulletproof, and then replaced it with a case that they then broke, then went and shot the clock? He thought. His smile faded as he realized that his job just got a whole lot harder if this was true, because now he had to find who stole the case, find where the actual case was, and on top of all that, find the China.
Once he got to the Baraclough residence, Michael Prescott pulled out his list of questions to make sure he had everything down. Once he was satisfied with his list, he rang the doorbell. Five seconds later, someone opened the door. “How may I help you?” a maid asked sweetly.
“I’m here to meet with Mr. Baraclough. My name is Michael Prescott.” Michael told her.
“Mr. Prescott! Mr. Baraclough is waiting for you in his study. It’s down the hall to your left. Fourth door to your left.” The maid replied, gesturing towards the interior of the house as an invitation to come inside.
When the detective arrived at the door to the study, he heard voices coming from inside the study. “Salvatore, I understand your worries. But I know that the French China is in perfectly safe hands.” a deep, booming voice said.
Mr Baraclough, Michael thought, then turned his attention back to the conversation going on in the study.
“But Father…” another voice whined, this one more reedy.
Salvatore, Michael thought, then moved aside to a more inconspicuous place, as he heard footsteps heading for the door.
“I will talk to you later, Salvatore.” Mr Baraclough told the stick-thin man as the door opened. When he saw Michael, he exclaimed, “Ah, Mr Prescott! I was just telling my son, Salvatore, about you.”
“Hello.” Salvatore told the detective, not hiding his disdain.
“Hello.” Prescott responded gruffly.
“Please, come inside, Mr Prescott.” Mr. Baraclough told Michael as Salvatore walked away.
Once they were inside and sitting, Michael began.
“Good to see, Mr. Baraclough.” Michael said, “Thanks for seeing me on such short notice.”
“Of course. I want to have one of my most prized possessions back as soon as possible.” Mr. Baraclough told him. “Would you like any coffee?”
“Yes, please.” Michael answered, and was served coffee in a fancy porcelain cup, which looked oddly familiar.
“I have a few questions for you,” Prescott asked, “Do you mind if I ask them?”
“Not at all.” Mr Baraclough replied.
“Alright. First question: how much was the stolen China worth?” He asked.
“Last time I had it appraised, roughly 2.5 million.” Baraclough answered.
“Second question: Was the China insured?” Prescott asked.
“Yes, at 1.1 million.”
“Third question: Have you ever upset any prominent businessmen?”
“Who am I to say? In business, you can’t go anywhere or do anything without making someone upset. But the Fuerstenbergs have always claimed that I am the source of their financial problems.”
“Hmm. Would that be a reason to steal the China?”
“Probably. In fact, they are first on my list of potential thieves!”
“Final question: do you have any family members in Europe?”
“Yes. Both my wife and I have family in Europe. Mainly extended family, such as cousins and such. I am from Austria, and my wife is from Italy.”
“Thank you very much. You may have helped shorten the time I will spend to close the case.” Michael told Mr Baraclough.
“My pleasure.” Mr. Baraclough responded as Michael got up to leave, shaking his hand.
When Michael Prescott got back to his apartment, he realized that he hadn’t smoked a cigarette for almost 24 hours. He sat down at his desk, retrieved a pack of Lucky Strike from a drawer, pulled out one and put it in his mouth, grabbed his lighter, and lit the cigarette. He then got to work updating his clues. He ended up with:
Clues:
The China set was supposed to be in a bulletproof case.
Three bullet casings from a Smith & Wesson .38 revolver were found.
The bullets were shot at a clock, stopping it at 12:30 AM sharp.
My taxi went by the museum at 12:15 AM
Thief is fluent in German
Baraclough has a European accent
The case may have been stolen completely and replaced with another one
The China is worth $2.5 million
The China is insured at $1.1 million
The Fuerstenbergs blame Baraclough for ruining their success
Baraclough has family in Switzerland and Italy
After looking at the clues for a while, he suddenly realized something. “Hold on a hot minute! The name Fuerstenberg is German!” he exclaimed loudly. He grabbed his phone, dialed Commissioner Thompson, and waited for the other end to pick up. “Commissioner Thompson, NYPD. How may-” the voice on the other end said.
“Thompson! I have a lead!” Prescott interrupted loudly.
“Whoa, Prescott! Slow down! And please, don’t yell!” Thompson replied.
“Sorry. The Fuerstenbergs, a German family, blame the Baracloughs for their financial ruin. Why not then hire, or even better, have an employee or family member, who is fluent in German, steal the French China, hold it ransom, or even better, sell it in Europe for a substantial profit, and get revenge on the Baracloughs?” Prescott explained.
“You may be right. Do you want a warrant?” Thompson asked.
“No. I want to test something. I do need a couple things though.” Prescott told him.
“What do you need?” Thompson asked automatically, as if this was routine.
“I need a meeting at the Met with the Director of the Met, Mr Baraclough and Salvatore Baraclough, Mr Fuerstenberg and any major people that he deals with, and you. Bring a couple of officers, but make it seem like it’s normal. I also need you to check with all firearm stores in the area for a purchase of a Smith and Wesson Model 10. I also need a complete replica of the French China, all by this Friday.” Prescott requested.
“This Friday?” Thompson asked.
“Yes.” Prescott replied.
“Mind explaining?” Thompson inquired.
“In due time.” Prescott hung up, and then got to work preparing a trap.
By the time 8:00 PM rolled around, Michael Prescott had smoked half a pack of cigarettes, and drunk 2 shots of whiskey. He grabbed his coat and hat, a pack of cigarettes (Lucky Strike), and headed out the door. When he got to the curb, he hailed a taxi and told the driver to go to the Birdland Jazz Club. When he got there, Anne Richie was waiting for him outside. They went inside together, and Michael said, “Table for two, Dorothy’s section.” to the hostess.
When they sat down, Anne asked him if he had any leads. “In fact, I do. The Fuerstenbergs are Germans, the thief is fluent in German, and the Fuerstenbergs hate the Baracloughs.” Michael told her.
“Wow.” Anne responded. “Need any help?”
“Actually, I may. I’ll call you if I need any. You’ve been a big help so far. Any clues?”
“Yep. Some rich guy with a thick Queens accent, with a slight German accent. He boasted about a big deal he had just made.” Anne replied.
“Hmm. The Fuerstenbergs are Germans that reside in Queens.”
“Do you think…” Anne asked.
“I don’t rule out anyone.” Michael replied.
Dorothy then arrived at their table, and the topic quickly switched from business to simply chatting and or ordering food.
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