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2049

Abstract

kup catcher for the Cincinnati Reds for a few years, ending in 1920.He and my Grandfather were great friends, and before Nick died he had become sort of an uncle to my Dad. It was all before my time, and I never did know why or how Grandpa and Nick become so close, but I know Dad thought a lot of Nick, and so he gave me Artemus as a middle name to honor the old friendship. Before I forget, people don’t call me “Artie,” either, at least not more than once. The first time I hear it, I can only think of Artie Johnson, on Laugh-In, if any of you remember that show; and I don’t stick around to hear it a second time.I’m a private investigator with offices in Miami, and have been in that game for many years now. I didn’t always want to be a private investigator…now I come to think about it, I wonder if any investigator “always, since a child, wanted to be” a P.I. But, in a way, my whole life pretty much guided me there, and especially in one of the specialties of my firm — investigating high-profile art theft.Later I’m going to tell you a story about an art theft I investigated that — and here’s the really weird way my whole life had guided me to that task — was directly involved with some violent crimes that occurred three decades later, in far flung corners of the globe, and I was actually present at one of them just because of how my life happened. To really understand the crazy events you’re going to read about, it will help to know a little more about me.Dad was a cop in Cincinnati, and for quite a few years when I was in what experts call the “formative years” was part of a squad that dealt with art thefts; and I was really fascinated with the whole thing. Like many kids, I wanted to do what my father did; so I did become a cop, of sorts. But I had also developed a real love of art, and was really interested in the idea of tracking down stolen masterpieces.Dad had also been in the Navy, a Master at Arms, before becoming a ci

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vilian cop, and loved ships and the sea — another thing we shared. So, I got a joint Bachelors of Fine Arts and Criminal Justice at Xavier University in Cincinnati and joined the Naval Investigative Service (for you NCIS nuts out there, this was the Navy’s investigative arm until it became known as the Naval Criminal Investigative Service — don’t get me started on how unreal the show is).After my NIS Special Agent Training at ONI (Office of Naval Intelligence) Headquarters in Maryland, I had several field assignments, then (and here is the main and stunning point of convergence that links the old and new crimes in this story) was assigned as Agent Afloat on the USS Midway — see there’s the sailor, and the cop thing, all lined up — and was tasked with investigating two deaths. At that time, Midway was home-ported in Yokosuka, Japan; now it’s a museum in San Diego. By the way, it’s a terrific museum, and if you haven’t seen it, you should. If you’re a veteran, make sure to tell them, as admission is supposed to be free for vets.I stayed with NIS/NCIS for about 15 years, then started up my PI firm in Miami.As this story plays out for you, I (or one of my staff) will pop in and then out, here and there, amidst the main events. Mostly it’s to make sure you’re still paying attention to details. I hope you enjoy the story.End of Chapter One.Well, that’s the Preface and first chapter of The Cain Heresy, mostly as an introduction to the protagonist, Max Carpenter. I really like the guy and am glad we met; and think now that he’s in existence I ought to stick with him. Turns out he shares my love of art, and interest in heists of all sorts (stories about them, I mean).As I mentioned I began this long ago, and then one thing or another kept interfering with getting past the first few chapters. I’m hoping you enjoy it, as this might kick me hard enough in the ass to really get it going again.</article></body>

For a Change of Pace — How About Some Fiction?

In 1976 a large number of Pablo Picasso’s works were stolen from the Palais du Papes in Avignon, France. What follows here is the Preface and Chapter One of my partly-fictionalized account of that theft and the recovery of the artwork — started long ago and still a work in progress, titled The Cain Heresy

Preface

In the Garden of Eden, Adam and Eve had two children, Cain and Abel. Cain was a farmer, while Abel was a shepherd. Cain was jealous of Abel, and also angry with God because he looked with favor on Abel, his little brother. His jealousy and anger was so great that one day he lured Abel into the fields and killed him.

And the Lord said unto Cain, where is Abel thy brother? And he said, I know not: Am I my brother’s keeper?

Chapter One

My name is Maximilian Artemus Carpenter. My friends call me Max. People who want at least a cold shoulder, and perhaps a rap upside the noggin if they do it more than once, call me Mac. It’s the Scots blood in me, you see, and I’m not crazy about just anybody calling me “son of” anything.

You may be wondering about those grandiose names my parents gave me — Maximilian and Artemus. Fair enough; a lot of people wonder about them, and some even ask me. Well, Maximilian comes because both my Mom and Dad were big fans of the great Austrian-Swiss actor, Maximilian Schell.

Artemus? That comes from a guy named Artemus Ward “Nick” Allen. Your older fans of arcane baseball history would tell you that Nick Allen was a backup catcher for the Cincinnati Reds for a few years, ending in 1920.

He and my Grandfather were great friends, and before Nick died he had become sort of an uncle to my Dad. It was all before my time, and I never did know why or how Grandpa and Nick become so close, but I know Dad thought a lot of Nick, and so he gave me Artemus as a middle name to honor the old friendship. Before I forget, people don’t call me “Artie,” either, at least not more than once. The first time I hear it, I can only think of Artie Johnson, on Laugh-In, if any of you remember that show; and I don’t stick around to hear it a second time.

I’m a private investigator with offices in Miami, and have been in that game for many years now. I didn’t always want to be a private investigator…now I come to think about it, I wonder if any investigator “always, since a child, wanted to be” a P.I. But, in a way, my whole life pretty much guided me there, and especially in one of the specialties of my firm — investigating high-profile art theft.

Later I’m going to tell you a story about an art theft I investigated that — and here’s the really weird way my whole life had guided me to that task — was directly involved with some violent crimes that occurred three decades later, in far flung corners of the globe, and I was actually present at one of them just because of how my life happened. To really understand the crazy events you’re going to read about, it will help to know a little more about me.

Dad was a cop in Cincinnati, and for quite a few years when I was in what experts call the “formative years” was part of a squad that dealt with art thefts; and I was really fascinated with the whole thing. Like many kids, I wanted to do what my father did; so I did become a cop, of sorts. But I had also developed a real love of art, and was really interested in the idea of tracking down stolen masterpieces.

Dad had also been in the Navy, a Master at Arms, before becoming a civilian cop, and loved ships and the sea — another thing we shared. So, I got a joint Bachelors of Fine Arts and Criminal Justice at Xavier University in Cincinnati and joined the Naval Investigative Service (for you NCIS nuts out there, this was the Navy’s investigative arm until it became known as the Naval Criminal Investigative Service — don’t get me started on how unreal the show is).

After my NIS Special Agent Training at ONI (Office of Naval Intelligence) Headquarters in Maryland, I had several field assignments, then (and here is the main and stunning point of convergence that links the old and new crimes in this story) was assigned as Agent Afloat on the USS Midway — see there’s the sailor, and the cop thing, all lined up — and was tasked with investigating two deaths. At that time, Midway was home-ported in Yokosuka, Japan; now it’s a museum in San Diego. By the way, it’s a terrific museum, and if you haven’t seen it, you should. If you’re a veteran, make sure to tell them, as admission is supposed to be free for vets.

I stayed with NIS/NCIS for about 15 years, then started up my PI firm in Miami.

As this story plays out for you, I (or one of my staff) will pop in and then out, here and there, amidst the main events. Mostly it’s to make sure you’re still paying attention to details. I hope you enjoy the story.

End of Chapter One.

Well, that’s the Preface and first chapter of The Cain Heresy, mostly as an introduction to the protagonist, Max Carpenter. I really like the guy and am glad we met; and think now that he’s in existence I ought to stick with him. Turns out he shares my love of art, and interest in heists of all sorts (stories about them, I mean).

As I mentioned I began this long ago, and then one thing or another kept interfering with getting past the first few chapters. I’m hoping you enjoy it, as this might kick me hard enough in the ass to really get it going again.