Aurum Regium

“Who did you see?” asked Michael.
“I recall details better with some sugar in my system,” said Rob, while looking meaningfully at his sister.
Michael understood immediately and said, “Are you really asking for a bribe in the presence of a federal agent?”
“Do you want my help?” asked Rob.
Evelyn groaned and said, “Fine! I’ll get you some of those caramel toffees. Now answer the question, please.”
Rob smiled happily and said, “From his uniform, he looked like a plumber.”
“Did you get a look at his face?” asked Michael.
“Nope, just his back. Sis was at work, and I had gone down to check for any mail in our mailbox.”
“How many times have I told you not to go out when you are alone?” asked Evelyn, with a hint of anger in her voice.
“Oh please, I am not a baby, I can take care of myself.” Saying this Rob got up from the sofa and in the process, banged his knee on the table. He let out a stifled exclamation but then looked at his sister and ran into the inner room.
Michael stood up and said, “Thank you very much for your time Ma’am.”
“Please, call me Evelyn,” replied Evelyn as she opened the door for Michael.
As soon as Michael was out of the house, his mind got busy in forming theories. He asked the other tenants a few questions but most of them were as clueless as Evelyn. Finally, he exited the last apartment to find Sam waiting for him at the other end of the hall.
Just as Michael walked up to him, Sam said, “Well, I have absolutely zero leads so far, what about you? Somewhere close by?”
“Actually, I do have something,” said Michael. “A kid saw someone entering the apartment.”
“Who? Did he look at his face?”
“Nope, just his back. The kid says he looked like a plumber, judging by his uniform.”
“Well, that is something, at least we know how he entered the apartment to set the stage.”
Michael and Sam had exited the building by now and were getting seated in the car.
“So even you think it was one of the thieves?” asked Michael.
“Who else could it be? Why would anyone call the plumber in a house where no one lives?”
Michael nodded. After a moment he said, “Well, from tomorrow we are going to have some extra help as well.”
“We don’t need any help. We’ll catch the thieves ourselves.”
“Even if we don’t need it, we are going to have to put up with those thieves. I believe we better keep an eye on them,” said Michael.
“You got it,” replied Sam, then after a moment, he added, “I wonder how Jefferson is getting along.”

Williamson Residence, NYC:

Jefferson had just reached the house of Harold Williamson and presented his credentials when he was let in by Mr. Williamson’s personal butler. Jefferson was made to sit in the living room, and after an impatient wait of five minutes, Harold Williamson entered the room. After a brief handshake, the two gentlemen took a seat facing each other. Harold Williamson was a middle-aged man with gray hair. His physique was closer in appearance to a basketball player than a businessman due to his tall features. He was dressed in a black suit as though he was attending a board meeting rather than meeting an FBI agent.
“Well, Agent Jefferson, here I am. What can I do for you?” asked Harold.
“On the contrary, Mr. Williamson, it is something that we would like to do for you.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean that we have reason to believe that a robbery will be committed with the intention of stealing some items of your personal collection and we would like to prevent that.”
The businessman looked at Jefferson for a few moments with a blank expression. Then he said, “I’m afraid there is a misunderstanding, I’m not the owner of any personal collection.”
“Are you quite sure of that Mr. Williamson? Because if you try to hide something and, in the process, refuse our assistance, you may be sorry later.”
Mr. Williamson looked up sharply and said, “Is that a threat?”
“Certainly not, it is a warning. The thieves who have claimed to steal several items of your personal collection are among the most skilled I have ever encountered in my career.”
The businessman was about to say something when an elegantly dressed woman entered the room. She walked up to Mr. Williamson and said, “I hope everything is all right my dear?”
“Of course, it is just some misunderstanding, the agent here seems to think that I have a private collection of some sort and it is going to be stolen.”
Perhaps it was Jefferson’s imagination, but for a moment he thought as though the woman’s face had gone pale. She said, “Stolen?”
“Don’t you worry, my dear, if it doesn’t exist, it cannot be stolen!” said Mr. Williamson and laughed loudly.
Jefferson said, “Do you have any idea what the thieves could be referring to as your personal collection?”
Mr. Williamson thought for a moment before answering. He said, “Nothing comes to my mind, do you have any idea what it could mean, Alice?”
His wife did not answer and kept staring at the floor. It was only when her husband called her name for the second time that she said, “Oh what? No, I don’t have any idea.”
Jefferson looked at her and felt as though she was hiding something. Something important, yet he could not accuse her without any evidence. He got up and said, “Very well Mr. Williamson, if you happen to think of anything then just give me a call, here is my card.”
Mr. Williamson took the card and laid it on the side table without giving it a second look. Jefferson exited the residence of the businessman and soon found himself sitting in his car and staring at the road. Try as he might, he could not shake off the feeling that Alice Williamson knew something, but if she did not divulge the information during the talk, then it was quite obvious that she was averse to the idea of sharing the information with Jefferson. Jefferson started the car and eased it out of the parking space. There weren’t many ways to ask someone if they were hiding something. Then there was another option altogether, which eliminated the need to ask the person in question anything at all.
As soon as Jefferson reached his office, he summoned Michael and Sam. It appeared that both of them were just waiting for him to arrive as they burst out talking as soon as they saw him.
Jefferson raised a hand to silence them and said, “Relax, both of you. What is it that you have found?”
“We think we know how the thief managed to arrange the apartment as we saw it,” said Michael.
“He did it as a plumber!” said Sam unable to wait any longer to break the news.
“A what?”
“We think he disguised himself as a plumber and went into the house. Then he made all the necessary arrangements and departed the building,” explained Michael.
“And how do you know this?”
“A kid told Michael.”
“A kid? How old?”
Michael grew nervous. He said, “Around Eleven.”
“Eleven? You are forming theories based on what an eleven-year-old kid told you?”
“He is a pretty smart kid,” said Michael.
Sam said, “Come on Jefferson, you never judged a person based on their age before, why do it now?”
Michael nodded. “Plus, what he said is the only useful thing we learned.”
Jefferson looked at the two men sitting in front of him and realized something for the first time. Sam was trusting Michael. He had not talked to the boy, but he was willing to accept what the boy had said, just because Michael thought that it was reliable information. Initially, he had been reluctant to agree with Michael, but now, after seeing that the two agents had begun to work together in a true sense for the very first time, he decided not to say anything else.
Jefferson nodded and said, “All right, let’s take that as a working hypothesis for now. There is something I want you to do.”
“What is it?” asked Sam.
“I need you to look into Alice Williamson.”
“Harold Williamson’s wife?” asked Michael.
“Yes, I think she is hiding some information.”
“And Harold is not aware of anything?”
“Well, to me, he looked genuinely surprised, but you can never be too sure. His wife, however, went pale when I mentioned the private collection.”
Sam agreed and said, “I’ll look into it, and there is one more thing. The reports came back from the analysis of the blood they found on the wall of the apartment. Turns out, it wasn’t blood, it was paint, made specifically to match the color of blood as closely as possible.”
Jefferson just nodded but Michael turned towards Sam and said, “Specifically made?”
“Yeah, it is a tint which is not quite common. Many companies don’t even offer that color.”
“That means the thieves must have acquired it specifically for this set up?”
“Yes, so what?” asked Sam impatiently, “Maybe the guy has a flair for theatricality.”
“My point is that they would have ordered the paint from somewhere and most probably quite recently, so this is an opportunity for us to track them.”
Jefferson looked at Michael and said, “That’s quite an idea. Get as much information as you can about the paint and where can it be bought from.”
Michael and Sam got up. Jefferson said, “Michael, you stay for a moment, there is something I want to talk to you about.”
This was an odd instruction. Michael looked at Sam who exchanged a meaningful look with Jefferson and left.
Jefferson said, “Michael I won’t beat around the bush. I just wanted to know how you’re holding up.”
Michael knew exactly what he was talking about, but still, he said, “What are you talking about?”
“Michael, alcohol withdrawal can be quite brutal, are you feeling all right?”
“Oh yes, I’m just drinking a lot of fluids, it’s not easy, but I won’t lose to my temptations.”
Jefferson replied, “That’s quite brave, what you are doing, and I respect you for that.”
Michael left Jefferson’s office. As soon as Michael went out, Jefferson received a text on his cellphone. It was from an unidentified number. The message was only two words long – Hello Jefferson.