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Several officers escorted Elek out while he screamed in English, French, and Hungarian to anyone who would listen. I had to admit it was satisfying to see him in cuffs. I only hoped they ended up with more to charge him with than unlawful entry.
With the help of a few officers, Mouse found a nearby table and laid out a protective sheet before gently removing the canvas from the tube and unrolling it.
I stepped up next to him and looked to see if I could identify King’s mark, but without the original to compare it to, it was impossible.
“I recognize this piece,” Mouse murmured. “It’s a Delacroix self-portrait. The original hangs in the Louvre.”
Fuck.
“So you’re sure it’s a forgery?” I asked softly.
“No, not at all. I only meant I knew what painting it was. If it’s a forgery, it’s amazing, Falcon. Truly mind-boggling,” he said, the awe clear in his voice. “But I’d need more time with it, and I need to pull up comparison photos of the original from archives from before King’s active period. You know how this goes. I need my equipment which is back in the office.”
“If it’s that good, we need to work under the assumption this is the original,” I said.
He stepped back and blew out a breath. “Oh thank god. I mean, I always assume it’s the original, but usually it isn’t. In this case though… I mean… wow. I’ve never seen anything like it. I thought I was looking at the best art forgery in history.”
“Wait,” I said. “You… you think this really could be the original?”
Mouse stared at the painting for a few more beats. “Let me put it this way, there’s no way I’ll be shoving it back into that cardboard tube just in case.”
I thought of the implications of this new development. King hiding the crown before meeting up with Elek… Elek bringing what he thought was one of King’s forgeries into the parliament building while King brought… an empty crown box…
Elek got caught in the parliament building holding an original painting that should have been hanging in the Louvre right now while King got away scot-free with the crown.
No. If there was one thing I knew, it was King’s belief that the Hungarian people deserved their crown. Which meant… the crown was probably here somewhere or he had plans to bring it back.
And if it was here somewhere, that meant they’d assume Elek had stolen it. Well, not stolen it but… returned?
Had there ever been a thief known for sneaking art in rather than taking it out?
Why, yes. Yes there had been.
I rubbed my hands over my face to hide my grin.
King had just masterfully set up Elek Kemény to take the fall as Le Chaton.
And I’d just fallen a little bit more in love with him for it.
A clipped few words in Hungarian came from somewhere behind me. I turned to see a uniformed officer escorting a familiar man into the rotunda.
King Wilde strode into the room like he owned the place.
Good god, the man could wear the hell out of a suit.
I blinked to be sure my eyes were working. Yes, that was King Wilde dressed like a damned FBI agent.
“This agent says he’s with your team,” Horváth translated. “He presented a badge to my men at the door.”
“Oh… ah, yes. Yes he is,” I stammered, feeling my face heat. Should I have demanded they arrest the man? Maybe, but there he was. King, my King. Safe and sound and looking at me with eyes that pleaded understanding. I wanted to touch him. I needed to touch him.
I swallowed. “So good of you to join us,” I said as drily as I could. “Little late, don’t you think? We were worried.”
He stepped closer and met my eyes. “I’m sorry. I promise it won’t happen again.”
If I stood any chance at getting through this without grabbing him and holding him close, I couldn’t look at him anymore. It wasn’t as easy as I’d hoped.
Ziv grinned like a loon, and it was Linney who gave King the side-eye. “Where were you?”
“Showering,” he said before running a hand through damp hair. “What have we got?”
Mouse looked at King like he was the second coming of Christ. He might have even drooled. “We might have an original Eugène Delacroix here,” Mouse said. “Can you give me your opinion on it?”
King stepped over to the table with the painting on it and crossed his arms in front of his chest. “That’s the real thing,” he said after a few minutes of contemplation. He murmured a few details, pointing here and there.
“That’s what I thought,” Mouse said excitedly.
Linney’s eyes narrowed. “I don’t understand. The man enters the Hungarian Parliament Building with an original painting stolen from the Louvre?”
I lifted a brow at King. “Good question. You’re good with art mysteries. Any thoughts? Scratch that. Any thoughts on where the crown might be? Do you think Le Chaton might have hidden it somewhere?”
