The Chase Read Online Free PDF Page A

haggis, a dish made of boiled and minced sheep’s lung, heart, liver, and esophagus mixed with onion, toasted oatmeal, and beef fat. The mix was then stuffed into the sheep’s stomach, sewn shut, and boiled again.
    Kate pushed the haggis around on her plate with her fork. “This looks like dog food,” she said. “And I think I saw an eyeball.”
    “Haggis is an old Scottish dish,” Nick told her, “and it doesn’t contain eyeballs … usually.”
    Kate took some for a test drive. “It’s not going to replace a Big Mac, but I can manage it if I wash it down with a lot of beer. And good thing it comes with mashed potatoes.”
    “It’s an acquired taste.”
    Like you, Kate thought.
    “Tell me about you and Duff,” she said to Nick. “How did you betray him?”
    “I didn’t.”
    “And yet he can still feel your knife in his back and wants to kill you.”
    Nick looked around the restaurant. Two hikers were absorbed in their guidebooks and hiking maps. A local sat nursing a mug of tea at another table. The waitress and the cook were in the kitchen.
    Nick leaned forward and lowered his voice. “After I left Harvard, I decided to go to London for a change of scenery. One day, I was sitting in the Tate Gallery, admiring the paintings, when I saw Duff casing the place.”
    “I never thought of you as an admirer of fine art.”
    “Why do you think I steal it?”
    “For the money,” she said. “Maybe for the thrill.”
    “The value of art to me is who owns it, how hard it is to steal, and how looking at it makes me feel. What it’s worth monetarily is the least of my considerations.”
    “What does it matter who owns it?”
    “I only steal things from people who, on some level, are just asking to be taken.”
    “How did you know Duff wasn’t just another admirer of fine art?”
    “I was still new at the game, but I was a con man at heart, I could tell when someone was playing a role. He was trying way too hard to let everyone know he was a tourist. He made a show of taking pictures of his wife in front of the paintings, but he was actually shooting the layout of the room, the location of the security cameras and the exits. So I started shadowing him. It only took a few days for me to figure out that the woman wasn’t his wife and that he was plotting a heist. But what was he going to stealand how was he going to pull it off? I was totally obsessed with the mystery.”
    “You weren’t worried about what might happen if he caught you?”
    “He did. The night of the job. He and his crew showed up and there I was, waiting for them at the Tate Gallery.”
    “How did you know it would be that night?”
    “The details of the heist aren’t important.”
    “I want details.”
    “I’d be betraying Duff.”
    “You already have.”
    “That’s debatable, which is why I’m telling you this story, so you’ll see my side of things. When he found me waiting for him, I told him I wanted in. He beat the crap out of me, bound and gagged me with duct tape, and threw me in the back of their van while they pulled off the theft. They got away with a Picasso and a Matisse.”
    She knew about that heist. It was still one of the great unsolved art thefts. Until now. Now she knew Duff MacTaggert had done it. And she couldn’t tell anybody what she knew. Or arrest anyone for it.
    “I thought Duff was going to kill me, and I think he did, too,” Nick said. “But somewhere along the way, he changed his mind and invited me to join his crew. Over the next couple years, we did heists all over Europe. I learned how to case a location, put together a crew, and pull off the physical, logistical, and engineering aspects of a first-class heist. It was great fun. Money, adventure, exotic locales. That’s when I knew I had to go.”
    “Why leave if you were having such a good time?”
    “I didn’t want to be just a thief or part of someone’s crew. Duffstole strictly for the money. It was the game of it that I enjoyed. I