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It was six months later that Peter saw another work by Nathanial Miller. It was impounded in a set of work from a Gallery. They had been running an insurance scam. He had been looking at the list and spotted El’s new favourite artist. The piece was called ‘Night in’. He decided to take a look. It was down in evidence, the light was terrible. It was different. It was a view of a dark clothed lap. On one knee a bottle of beer, on the other a dog’s head. It reminded him of Satchmo. Just on the edge was a smaller knee tucked up onto the sofa. It looked like perfection to him. Obviously the artist had felt similarly. It was warm and inviting. He couldn’t help himself, he pulled out his cell and snapped a picture for El.
~~*~~
“What will happen to the art since the Gallery’s being shut? Is it all evidence?” El asked over dinner.
“Only a few are Evidence. Most of the rest will go back to their owners and the ones owned by the Gallery are going into the department auction.” Peter told her as he cut up NJs meat.
“That include that cute Miller that looks like Satchmo?” She asked before realising the problem.
“I don’t want a new puppy!” NJ shouted. He had been sensitive about Satchmo. They’d lost him a year ago. When a friend of his talked about getting a new dog to replace him NJ had got angry. Now, he always thought they wanted to get a new puppy.
“No, NJ it was a picture, like that one.” He pointed to the Miller on the wall. “It looks a lot like Satchmo.”
“I like the park picture.” NJ said thoughtfully. This was a good development. Finally a chance to talk about Satchmo.
“Yeah, so do I. I think it would be nice to have something to remember Satchmo. We all really loved him.” El looked pointedly at Peter.
“Well I can look into it but it won’t be auctioned for a while.” The auctions were twice a year and he wasn’t sure when the next one was.
~~*~~
Peter was on his own for the weekend. El was at her sister’s with NJ. Peter had stayed to be on call for a stakeout. He was staring at the Miller and thinking about the man who would have been most surprised to hear that Peter Burke had become a collector with a favourite artist.
They hadn’t heard from Neil since the postcard. Technically, he had no proof that Neal was even still alive. He’d looked out for his work but there was no sign of a job or a forgery signed by Caffery anywhere. He agreed with El though. They had been getting mysterious postcards for years. The sights never matched the postmarks and a few had even been missing postmarks or sent from New York. They never had anything but the address and an X on them.
There were also presents. He was sure that soon NJ was going to notice but for his last three birthdays there had been a package, addressed to Junior and unsigned. They never had a return address. The presents had been great. A teddy bear, then sidewalk chalk in so many colours. Finally that year a set of colouring books and wax crayons. They were colour by number versions of great pieces. He was sure they were aimed at adults but NJ loved them. He was obsessed with colouring in all the little spaces.
Every time Peter saw them he was sure they were from Neal. He wished he could show Neal this art. He’d probably say something snotty but Peter wanted him to admit it was nice, at least for something so cheap. El and NJ loved it though and Peter kinda liked that it was a reminder of Neal. Even Interpol had stopped asking him about Neal. He guessed he’d either got a new style or was still living off his last score. A small voice in the back of his head said that he might just have gone straight but what would Neal do? His art had always looked good to Peter but he’d never been able to settle on a style for it. El and Mozzie had always said it was lacking something too. Always imitating someone, never revealing Neal the way it should.
Peter had always been surprised by that. Neal had always had his style. His look, even his cons had always had a Caffery flair to them. Even the way he sat and drank his coffee had been totally Neal. How that nack for bring style and sophistication to the everyday while never being ostentatious had never translated to his art confused Peter.
That might be why he liked the Millers. They were like little bits of his life but painted as though they were worthy of the masters. He was putting aside some cash to get what he’d started thinking of as the Satchmo in the next auction. It was a week before NJ’s birthday and he wanted to surprise them. He’d told El that the painting wasn’t available and she’d been disappointed.
~~*~~
The party was great. Then NJ overdid it and ended up puking. He wasn’t the happiest boy and had fallen asleep in the car. Peter carried him to the door. El unlocked it and held it open for Peter. He went and dropped NJ on the couch and then froze. In the kitchen sat on a brand new bed next to bowls and a bag of food was a beagle. It had a bright red bow around its neck. Before he could even react he noticed that someone had put up ‘Night in’ in the lounge as well.
“El!” He stared at the beagle. She came in carrying all the presents and bags from the car.
“Is that a dog, Peter!” She asked, putting the bags down.
“Yes!” Peter said angrily.
“Peter, you can’t just get a dog without talking about it.” She admonished.
“I didn’t get the dog.” Peter said, confused. “I got the painting.” He said, indicating it.
“So who got the dog?” El walked over to the canine. It sat and panted at her while she looked around and found a note on the ribbon. “To Junior, Nothing can replace a friend but there is always room for new ones. It’s signed with an X.” Her eyes widened.
“Seriously!” He walked over and looked at the note.
“How did he…” El looked around at all the dog paraphernalia. It was all new. All of Satchmo’s things were gone or in storage.
“Mozzie or someone must have agreed to break in for him.” Peter avoided the name, they always did. The dog barked at Mozzie's name. NJ woke up and saw the picture. He was suddenly excited.
“Dad, you got the Satchmo painting!” El had shown the photo to him before.
“Yeah Neal. I did.” He went to kneel with NJ before he saw the dog. It barked again.
“And a new dog!” He turned and saw the beagle.
“No…”
“Yes…” Peter and El said at the same time. NJ walked over to the dog hesitantly.
“You have a new dog as a birthday present NJ.” El told him the truth, giving Peter a look that said they couldn’t give away a dog from Neal.
“But he’s not like Satchmo.” He said quietly.
“Well buddy, you said you didn’t want a replacement. There’s a note with him. Want to read it with me.” Peter took his hand and stepped closer to the dog. NJ nodded. Peter took a knee and showed NJ the note. “It says: To Junior, Nothing can replace a friend but there is always room for new ones.” NJ nodded at him.
“So how about it NJ, can this guy be our new dog?” El asked.
“Yeah.” He scrunched up his face and tilted his head to one side. “We can call him Yankee.” Peter smiled impressed.
“After the baseball team.” He asked his five year old.
“No, after Weird Al Yankee.” He has forgotten that his five year old had somehow gotten into the cover song polka singer while still not being able to get his name right.
“I’ll take it. Hey Yankee.” Peter gave the beagle a pat and had his face licked. Instant love.