Life imitates art. Episode two.

Published on 27 November 2023 at 16:27

The ringtone of the rock-and-roll call shook him up.

In response to his scratchy, "Yes, I'm listening," the boss's booming bass said, "Are you asleep, Nick?"

His slumber at this hour in the morning is remarkable.

Insane, right? Let's get going; your team is on the way.

Let me know what you find out, and I'll call you. The mayor has everything under control. Is that what you meant?

''All the way! Please elaborate on what occurred at that location.

Nick asked the boss.

The boss quickly snapped, "Don't be such an ass!" This location is the residence of Andrew Call. Some ''attractive men'' had taken an artwork from his collection that night.

However, Andrew's contact is a close friend of the mayor. You may find out more on the spot and contact me back. Move on. I hope you're in your car, wise person!"

Nick would be lying if he said he enjoyed driving at night, but whenever the chance presented itself, he always went faster than the posted limit, squinting with delight like a cat after a bowl of sour cream.

When he turned the corner, the car's lights shone on a poster advertising an art show at the Elizabeth Gallery.

''How does she handle everything?'' Nick asked himself.

Elizabeth was his grandma.


When he arrived at the collector's villa, he found his crew in a state of confusion.

An ambulance doctor inspected Andrew Call's bleeding head, and he winced in agony with each touch.

In the living room, several chairs were turned over, a floor vase containing artificial flowers lay on the piano, a landscape in an ancient frame was on the floor, and a curtain from the window was halfway ripped off the rod.


Upon closer study, this whole mess appeared deliberate—as if an unskilled decorator was trying to order the scene of a recent short brawl.

Simultaneously, the attackers had already left the scene.

Nick cast a curious glance at his partner.

Charlie, who goes by the name Charlie, started talking.


The entrance door was wide open.

The hallway chandelier was on, but occasional grunts came from the living room.


It turned out it was Mr. Andrew Call, the villa's owner. I phoned for an ambulance, and before the paramedics arrived, Mr. Call explained that he had gone to the kitchen to get some sleep aids when he heard noises in the living room.


He scared off the robber by turning on the hall lights, and in his haste to escape, the thief accidentally struck Mr. Andrew on the head as he ran by.

There was no time for the thief to steal anything.

Charlie also found it odd that the city TV crew from the ''Night Channel'' came precisely one minute after the cops did in a swaying manner.


Nick squinted at his companion, knowing full well that he had nothing to contribute to the proceedings because he would figure out the answer to all this nonsense elsewhere.


Once again, he glanced at the scenario in the living room, becoming increasingly persuaded of the accuracy of his intuitive judgment, and turned to the exit, where he happened upon a person photographing a cardboard box with the abbreviation ArtByElenaG at the door to the home. It was a deliveryman from UPS.


Nick fired up the motor; he decided to make the next stop at a familiar address.

After stopping the automobile in front of Grandma's house, Nick saw the living room light on.

He texted her, "I hope you haven't run out of my favourite coffee yet," and then wondered, "Have you already gotten up or haven't you gone to bed yet?"


After a short hug, sipping coffee and squinting in pleasure, he told her about the failed, in his opinion, theft of Andrew Call's villa, adding that she should at least know this person as far as activity goes.

"Yes, I am aware.'' Grandma said sarcastically,


I met Andrew Call a long time ago. She followed up with a question about when the robbery attempt could have occurred.

After pausing momentarily, Nick looked at her curiously and realized it had happened about two in the morning.

Elizabeth did not respond but instead flicked through her phone a few times, eventually bringing the screen to face Nick.

The Facebook people were being duped by a kook going by the handle "Art Guide."

The famed collector Andrew Call's mansion was robbed around 11 o'clock tonight, according to a police source.

There are currently a lot of unanswered questions. Will Mr. Call be able to show off his latest purchases at the Elizabeth Gallery's upcoming annual show?

After each exhibition, it is common knowledge that the artist whose work Andrew Call had purchased in advance went on to achieve economic success.

And all because the art public respects his judgment and ability to anticipate in whose name one might put money. Investors and the general public appeared quite interested.

Nick's eyebrows squirmed. "Grandma, what does it mean?" Elizabeth pointed to a seat and then sat down across from Nick.

He observed a cardboard box labeled "ArtByElenaG" on the small table between the two seats, and upon closer inspection, he recognized that it was the identical box supplied to Andrew Call.


Elizabeth then went on to tell her grandson how, over twenty years ago, she had purchased the gallery and worked as an art critic for several publications.


Since her undergraduate days, she has dreamt of her gallery as a platform where new artists may present their work for free.


Andrew Call had previously acquired artwork. However, he did so discreetly and to a small audience.

At one point, he turned up at the exhibition and, like a bloodhound, began nosing about the artwork, asking questions, and acting inquisitively.

It seemed Mr. Call came to trust me. I used my credibility as a professional art critic to recommend the artist's work, most likely to garner positive responses from the general audience.

The next day, he made a large purchase of canvas paintings from this artist.

After the art show, I wrote a comprehensive evaluation in which I analyzed the works and highlighted the finest, and I was right about my prediction.

A few months later, Call sold all those artworks and made five times his initial investment in the previous winner's paintings. And this yearly competition eventually became the norm.

Business, they say, is the be-all and end-all.


This year, I spent most of my art budget on works by one artist I predict will become very well-known.



I kept Mr. Call in the dark until the very end; he was undoubtedly anxious about not knowing my decision this time.

The seasoned public, however, is once again interested and braced for a fresh move from the ''sharp'' collector.

Therefore, I am more than confident that the ''robbery'' of Andrew Call's property is nothing more than his foolish improvisation.

And a specific'' Art Guide '' was a blogger bought by Call, who was in such a rush to make shady cash that he announced the heist many hours before it was probably done.


After her heartfelt rant, Elizabeth pulled a

painting of a young lady standing in a field with her chest exposed from a cardboard box labelled with the now-famous Nick acronym ArtByElenaG.

It appeared nothing odd, yet you couldn't take your eyes off the image. She suggested this artist for the nearest show.

'' What do you think? '' A gaze from Grandma at Grandson. Nick stood in front of the picture and stared at it silently.

After spending time with his grandma, he made the difficult decision to share all this knowledge with Harry, the son of his former business partner.

Last year, the partner was killed while trying to apprehend a suspect. Lately, Harry has decided to join the blogging community. 


Greetings, pal. Charlie, the ginger cat, has returned to you. This entire tale was shown to me in a dream this morning. And do you understand why?


My owners left me alone with this bare-breasted female as they went to choose paintings for an upcoming art show.

Of course, I opted to think positively about it.

Later that night, we snuggled on the couch to watch a murder mystery.

So, this jumble of disparate facts and ideas made its way into my brain on a subliminal level and manifested as a dream.

I always feel calmer when I instantly transmit my vision to someone. Please don't be too harsh on me until we meet again, my buddy.


But I have a question for those who know the meaning of "the target audience’’.

Please clarify this concept, especially for the ginger cat.


My master, in my opinion, got lost in the terminology, and maybe I can explain it to him somehow.


Bye, yours, Charlie.


Like always, I appreciate feedback.


On the right, you see a painting that my hostess called ''Wild Flowers''.


Those interested in buying visit our webhop page.


Add comment


There are no comments yet.