Carla’s Prince

Chapter 11

“It has been weeks and we still don’t have a solid lead, Gibson,” Thomas said to Carla on Friday morning.

“Actually, we have had a solid lead for weeks, but we have been staking out the store and so far, nothing,” Carla said as she looked at him. “We could ask Cristoff to plant something valuable but the tricky part would be getting the staff back without having them suspect anything.”

Thomas looked up from his computer.

“When he let his staff go, did he tell them why?” he asked and Carla shrugged.

“Actually, I don’t know.”

“Would you find out?” Thomas asked and Carla felt her heart sink. She had been doing everything she could not to get in contact with Cristoff. Matter of fact, the right word was avoidance. There was no better way of defining what she was doing. She was simply ignoring him and that was that. But now, Thomas was telling her that she had to reach out to Cristoff. She hated thinking about it. Hated the very thought of seeing him again even though she had missed him to bits.

“Carla?” Thomas called making her snap out of her deep thoughts. “Could you reach out to Cristoff and find out if he can catfish these losers or what?”

She forced a smile.

“Sure,” she said before she made her way to her desk.

She sat down and drummed her fingers on her desk as she wondered what she was supposed to do. She had been having an internal crisis for days and it was only made stronger when she got that email from him a couple of days ago. But, since seeing that photo of him and a woman with her arms around his neck, it was too much for her.

“You have to do it,” she thought to herself as she began dialing. “There is no way around it.”

She held the phone to her ear and waited for Cristoff to pick up. She could feel her heart racing as the phone rang. She was not sure what she was going to say when he picked up. It was something that she had not thought would happen for a long time and now that it was, it freaked her out.

“Carla,” Cristoff said when he picked up. “I’m so happy you called…”

“This is not a courtesy call, Cristoff. It’s business,” she said before he could finish expressing his excitement.

“Oh.”

He sounded disappointed.

“We have been waiting for one of your staff to show up at the store I told you about in the email but there has been no development as yet and Hardley thought of having you hire them back,” she explained. “But we are not so sure if it was such a good idea because it would sound quite suspicious.”

“Not really,” Cristoff said. “I told them that I was thinking of selling the place and that I was going to have them reassigned to other Benedict properties.”

“Good, then you can call them back and say there has been an unforeseen delay in the sale and then have them come back.”

“I don’t understand. They would only come back to steal some more.”

“Well, that’s the point. We already have a security system that they do not know about, so we would catch them dead in the act. In addition, we would have GPS trackers installed in whatever you would plant for them to take. That way the evidence against the thieves would be solid.”

“So, now I am supposed to just let them walk out with valuables?” he asked, still confused.

“That’s the whole point. We could only recover a few items but we still need to dig deeper to find their connection, especially when it comes to art. Planting a good piece of art would take us right to the head of the snake. I am sure you are not the only victim of this whole thing. The police would appreciate a lead.”

There was a long silence from Cristoff’s side.

“I have a few things I picked up on my trip to London. Jewelry mostly. I don’t know about the art though.”

“It doesn’t have to be real,” Carla said. “We are simply setting a bait.”

“It is a well-known fact that my family owns a number of Van Gogh paintings. I can arrange for one of the copies to be brought to the estate by tomorrow,” he said in a soft voice and she nodded, as if he could see her.

“How good is the copy?” she asked.

“Well, don’t tell anyone but the museum in Copenhagen has had a Van Gogh on display that was donated by my grandmother thirty years ago but what the public doesn’t know is that the real Van Gogh has been hanging in my grandmother’s country home for as long as it has been in the museum and no one’s the wiser.”

“So, pretty good, huh?” she said as she leaned back in her chair.

“It is flawless,” Cristoff assured her.

“You know that you just admitted to fraud and considering you are a high profile family, this would be a public relations nightmare,” she pointed out.

“I know,” Cristoff said in a soft voice. “But I trust you and I trust that you would never bring shame to me or my family.”

Carla sat there in silence, biting her lip. She was speechless but at the same time, she did not want to hang up.

“Let me know when you have talked to them,” she said.

“Carla, wait,” Cristoff said quickly before she could hang up. “I really need to see you.”

Carla ran her fingers through her hair and sighed.

“No, Cristoff.”

“Please…please, Carla.”

“This was a business call. Not a personal one.”

“Then let me see you after work today. We can meet for coffee or something,” he said and once again, Carla shook her head.

“Cristoff, I need to go,” she said quickly before she hung up and buried her face in her hands.

“Fu*k. Fu*k. Fu*k.”
                                                                        *****

Cristoff stared at his phone before he flung it across the room. He expected to hear the loud crash of the phone shattering the mirror but somehow, he had thrown the phone right across the bathroom and into the bedroom. It had bounced against the padded headboard and landed on the bed.

He clenched his fist and looked at his reflection. He could not help but wonder what he was doing wrong. Or was it that this was how relationships were in general? Did every man go through something like this with the woman he loved or was his case special?

He walked out of the bathroom and into his room. He sat on the edge of the bed and reached for his phone. His hand was shaking as he called Vince.