Aurum Regium

The next day Michael reached the bureau early. He had just kept his bag on his desk when Sam looked into his cubicle. Both exchanged a nod and continued with their respective tasks. Each of them knew why the other was early, it was obvious. Although they were against the idea of getting felons out of prison and taking their help, they could not miss the opportunity to see Jefferson walk in with the two infamous thieves for the first time. Even though both knew Brandon and Olivia were criminals, they could not overlook the fact that they were legendary criminals. The number of perfect robberies they had committed was commendable and to think that no one even knew their identities before they were caught was something even more amazing.
Try as they might, Michael and Sam could not get their head into their work. Michael kept checking his watch and Sam was continuously staring at the door. Finally, they saw Jefferson open the glass door and usher a man and a woman in. Michael noticed that both the convicts were fitted with devices to monitor their location at all times. To be more precise, they were given ankle monitors. Brandon walked in and immediately sat down on one of the chairs as though he owned the place. Olivia kept standing and looking at the people around her with interest. When she looked at Michael, she stared at him for a moment longer than the others with an odd expression on her face, but perhaps that was because Michael had an expression on his face that clearly expressed that he found the company of two criminals repulsive.
Jefferson said, “Michael, Sam, meet Brandon and Olivia Andrews, they will be assisting us with the case.”
“Hello Michelle, hello Samantha, how do you do?” asked Brandon and laughed.
Olivia said, “Now, don’t be rude dear. They’re just children.”
Michael stepped forward and said, “We are federal agents and that means we have the authority to throw you back in jail as and when we please.”
Olivia laughed and said, “You may have the authority, but do you have the permission? You need us.”
Michael looked at Jefferson and the latter shrugged his shoulders.
Sam said, “Jefferson, are they here to waste our time?”
“Absolutely not,” replied Jefferson. “They’re here to work, now let me show you where the two of you will be working.”
Jefferson pointed towards a large table that had recently been set up near the coffee machine. Brandon looked at it and raised an eyebrow.
“You really expect us to work there?” he asked.
“Yes, and I don’t ask, I tell you what you need to do,” said Jefferson in an authoritative manner.
While the couple made their way towards the table, a single thought was going through the mind of each of the three agents, they had to be alert at all times.

Precisely fifteen minutes later, the agents and the former thieves were talking about various aspects of the case. Jefferson had told the two consultants what they had learned so far and what were their theories. For the first time, Brandon and Olivia seemed to be genuinely interested, they were listening intently and responding with enthusiasm.
Brandon said, “These guys are smart and sophisticated. From the way they stole the diamonds, it is evident that they prefer to use brains and this type of thieves are the hardest to catch.”
“Agreed,” said Olivia “From what you have told us so far, they have managed to outsmart you twice and now, the best lead you have is the custom-made paint.”
Michael nodded. “Yes, the paint is a rare shade of blood red. From what I have found out, there are only eleven places in America from where you could get that shade without having the chance of getting caught later.”
“Out of those places, how many are in NYC?” asked Brandon.
“Just Three, why?”
“Because it would have been easier to buy it in NYC, rather than get it from another state,” explained Olivia.
Jefferson looked at Olivia and said, “So are you saying that they got the paint from one of those three places?”
“Exactly.”
“I’ll look into it,” said Michael.
“I’ll help,” said Brandon, getting up.
“I never said I needed the help of a crook to catch another.”
“All right, that’s enough,” said Jefferson. “If we want to catch these guys, we need to cooperate. Brandon, you go with Michael. Olivia, you and Sam will look into Alice Williamson.”
Sam groaned and said, “What about you?”
“Sometimes I forget, who is the senior one here?” asked Jefferson with a hint of a smile and walked away.
The ones who were left behind looked at their partners. Multiple opinions were exchanged but no words were uttered. It was all done with the assistance of facial muscles. After a few minutes, Michael left, and to his dismay, Brandon followed him. The man was aware that his presence irritated Michael, but he seemed to enjoy testing the limits of Michael’s patience.
Once Brandon and Michael were on their way, the former kept staring at the latter. Michael tried to ignore the stare, but he found himself getting distracted by it and in the end, he concluded that a direct confrontation was the best and the shortest approach.
“Stop staring.”
“Staring helps me think,” replied Brandon in a sing-song voice.
“Then stare outside the window.”
“What is your problem with me?”
“Well, apart from the fact that you are a convicted felon who insists on behaving like a child all day long, there isn’t much against you.”
“Being a felon does not necessarily mean that I’m a bad person.”
“Oh, of course, they just locked you up for your unusual choice of a career.”
“You know what I mean. I was a thief, not a man who hurts others like serial killers, who I guarantee, are awfully bad men.”
“There is something you need to understand, as long as you talk to me about something that is relevant to the case, you may expect a reply, however, if you attempt to talk to me about anything else, be prepared to withstand absolute silence.”
“All right, partner, let’s talk about the case. We need to pull a con.”
“Excuse me?”
“You heard me, I hate to disappoint you, but your dreams of barging in and flashing your badge and getting answers straightaway are never going to be fulfilled.”
“And exactly what do you propose we do?”
“You can be my son.”
“What?”
“You will be my son, one of those fanatics who think that the color of blood is cool, you will be arguing with me about the color of the paint, quite loudly, and saying that you were willing to pay anything for the paint of that specific shade and your friend recently bought it from that very place.”
“So, the shopkeeper would either agree or disagree and that would tell us if he did sell the paint to anyone.”
“Glad to see that you are trying to keep up.”
“Glad to see that you have brains.”
After the minute hand of the watch had made a few more rounds, the two men reached the first shop. It was one of those home décors shops that offered everything, from Sofa sets to curtains.
Michael entered the shop with a moody expression on his face but then he stopped. Brandon came in behind him and stopped too. Both of them looked at each other, Brandon raised an eyebrow, but Michael exited
“So, tell me,” said Brandon as they got back into the car.
“Tell you what?”
“You know what, why didn’t you proceed to question the owner?”
“Because the thieves didn’t get the paint from there.”
Brandon said, “Please tell me it was a little more than a gut feeling.”
Michael sighed and said, “Fine, that wasn’t the type of place where a thief would go to buy something. There were CCTV cameras and a proper system for making transactions. The state of all these items made it obvious that they were properly maintained. Now, firstly, no one would go through so much trouble if their business wasn’t good and someone with a good business and who believed in making secure transactions wouldn’t risk taking part in any sort of illegal activity so the chances of him cooperating with thief were low, and it would not have been possible for the thieves to come and go undetected or without leaving a trace because of the stringent security measures.”
After this monologue, Brandon nodded his head as though he was impressed. “Not bad, Michael, not bad at all.”
“Thanks, your opinion really matters to me.”
With the first place stricken off the list, the unconventional duo headed towards the second place on their list. This second place was an old paint shop. Very old. The man who owned it was almost as ancient, and one look at it would have convinced anyone that it was an ideal spot for getting something without leaving a trail.
Michael entered the shop and said, “I told you, Dad, I want to choose the color myself.”
Brandon shook his head and said, “And I said you can, but choose anything except red.”
“It’s not just red, custom-made blood red, that’s what I want.”
The owner of the shop came up to the two men and said, “Let it go, sir, the kids these days, they all want the same things.”
Brandon sighed and said, “I don’t think anyone would be naive enough to buy blood-coloured paint, it’s stupid, not to mention it’s difficult to acquire.”
“I will pay whatever amount is necessary to get what I want, but I won’t settle for anything else,” said Michael in a definitive tone.
The old man’s eyes lit up. The paint business was not exactly the most rewarding and when a stubborn kid walked in, it was a sign that the man could sell the paints for a little more than usual.
The old man said, “You see, sir, the paint is quite expensive, it is of the top quality but not many people buy it, so it’s made on order.”
Brandon looked at Michael and said, “See? Not many people buy it, it will be ages before you get it. Want to change your mind?”
The old man interjected and said, “Oh no sir, luckily I just sold some to a client, I even have a can with me, you can buy it right away, but as I said, it will be expensive.”
Michael shrugged and said, “Money is not a problem, but I don’t want old paint, something that you have in the back of your storage for years.”
“Oh no sir, I sold it to a gentleman just a few weeks ago!”
Michael looked at Brandon at this statement. They had what they wanted, now it was time to drop the façade.
Michael said, “Tell me, sir, have you heard of the FBI?”
“Who hasn’t?”
“Well, that makes it easier. My name is Michael Adams, I’m an FBI special agent and the man you sold the paint to is a suspect in a robbery.”
The old man’s demeanor changed drastically. Within a moment he had transformed from a cunning salesman to a god-fearing citizen of the country.
He said, “I’m afraid I don’t remember much sir, it’s this old age.”
“Do you know the FBI interrogation rooms specialize in memory problems?”
Brandon nodded and said, “I can tell you from experience, they really are quite good.”
“I said I don’t remember much, but I do remember the man, his appearance and his name.”
“That is all we want,” said Michael, and indicated towards a chair in the man’s office.
The man sat down and said, “The name of the man was John D.”
“Full name?” asked Michael.
“I didn’t ask, he paid me pretty well to avoid sharing the details,” said the man awkwardly.
Brandon said, “No need to guess, I know what his full name was – John Doe, they have quite a good sense of humor.”
“Do you remember the man’s features?”
“Yes, I don’t forget a good customer.”
Michael said, “Get up. You need to come with us and talk to a sketch artist.”
Brandon stopped Michael and said, “Relax, I’m not just a thief. There was a time when I was an art student, and I’m quite good. We don’t have to waste any more time.”
Five minutes later, Brandon was seated opposite the old man who was trying to describe the face of the man with the help of words. Michael was standing over Brandon’s shoulder and although he didn’t say anything, he was quite impressed by the man’s skill. He was doing a remarkable job of converting what he was being told into a picture. His hand was steady and precise as a surgeon’s, and his concentration was unwavering. Within forty-five minutes most of the sketch was done and Michael could see the face of one of the thieves. That was not the part that excited Michael. It was something else that did. He had seen the man before.