Turned to Stone by Jorge Magano Page B

Amatriaín will now explain about an initiative to recover stolen artwork, approved by the European Commission just last Thursday, for which they’ve asked our help.”
    Amatriaín cleared his throat. He stood stiffly and his eyes darted from Jaime to Laura, as if quickly trying to gauge their reactions. His gaze came to rest on Jaime, whose attention was noticeably elsewhere.
    Jaime was aware of his distracted state, but did nothing to hide it. In his condition he had no desire to listen to this man ramble on about an operation that they clearly wanted to involve him in. They probably needed him to write a report on the methods the European police used to track down stolen art, something he had no wish to do. He still had a cold and was exhausted, even after spending a weekend recovering, and his attention span was short. His thoughts were still drifting between Sandra and Paloma. He’d have liked nothing more than to go home and sleep for ten hours straight, but eventually curiosity got the better of him. He rubbed his tired eyes and tried to focus on Amatriaín, who was arranging some documents on the table.
    “Right, well, I won’t waste time explaining who we are or what we do—I did that at our first meeting and there’s plenty more information on the Internet. Europol is the organization that coordinates the fight against crime within the European Union, its headquarters are located in The Hague. It was first formed to fight drug crimes, but since then its operations have expanded. One of its most successful missions was the dismantling of a child pornography network, but there have also been several antiterrorism operations and even an investigation into the trafficking of stolen cars in Spain. You’re probably wondering what all this has to do with art. The answer is in the unit I represent, which was created a year ago.”
    Jaime nodded. Amatriaín’s words had rekindled a memory. He had seen something in the news. It happened in Amsterdam. A guy stole a painting from the Van Gogh Museum and then destroyed it when he found himself cornered by the police. The media had laid into those responsible for the operation. Jaime had no doubt that one of those men sat in front of him right now.
    “We’ve conducted a couple of minor missions to date,” said Amatriaín, “but we plan to expand our area of operations. We’ve secured the cooperation of all the security forces of the member states of the European Union, with whom we constantly share information. At this very moment we are launching an operation whose main objective is to recover works of art stolen on European soil in recent months. Here’s the situation.”
    Jaime made an effort to listen more carefully, presuming the important bit was about to come.
    “You’re probably wondering what all this has to do with you. As Dr. Requena said, we met a few days ago with some colleagues in the CHR, and that was when it was decided that the magazine you work for should play a central role.”
    Amatriaín gestured to Requena, who pressed a button set into the table. The overhead lights went out and the screen behind the dais came on, showing a photograph of a man with shaggy white hair and a wrinkled face.
    “This is Nelson Krupa, known as Nelson the Pole, initiator and boss of one of the largest organizations in art contraband. In April 2012, two seventeenth-century oil-on-board paintings fortuitously appeared at El Rastro flea market. The Civil Guard’s Heritage Squad opened an investigation and found that the two paintings had been taken from a church in Terrazos de Bureba, in the Burgos province. Eventually two men were detained, and they helped facilitate the arrest of the Pole and his associates. They’re now serving prison sentences.” Amatriaín paused for effect. “Since then the number of art thefts has fallen dramatically, until a month ago.”
    The photograph of the Pole disappeared and was replaced on the screen by an image of Bolgi’s