Chapter 160: Arrival In The City Of Love
This was not random.
This was someone who knew this collection specifically.
After a minute Vanessa turned around.
"The show is in nine hours," she said. Her voice was steady. "Tell me what you’re thinking."
"I’m thinking three things," said Sean. "First, what can be repaired. Second, what the show looks like with what can’t be repaired removed. Third, who did this and why."
"In that order," said Vanessa.
"In that order," said Sean. "The first two need to start immediately. The third one I’ll handle separately while you focus on the first two."
Vanessa looked at him.
"You’ll handle it," she said.
"Yes," said Sean.
She held his gaze for a long moment with the expression of someone not used to having another person step in front of a problem for them and not entirely sure what to do with the experience.
"Okay," she said. Then she turned to the damaged pieces and began assessing them with the focused efficiency of someone who had decided that if nine hours was what she had, nine hours was enough.
Sean stepped into the corridor and made two calls.
The first was to Max.
Max picked up on the second ring, which at this hour meant he’d been awake already, which meant Amara was probably also awake and had been talking, which meant Max had been listening, which was exactly the kind of morning Max was having.
"Paris," said Max, instead of hello. "Something happened."
"The collection was sabotaged overnight," said Sean. "The venue has a security system. I need the footage from the storage area access points between the time the collection arrived last night and when we opened the cases this morning."
A pause. The specific pause of Max assessing a problem he’d already started solving. "Send me the venue name and address. I’ll need fifteen minutes."
"You have ten," said Sean.
"Twelve," said Max.
"Eleven," said Sean.
"You’re in Paris and you’re negotiating with me about minutes," said Max.
"Eleven minutes," said Sean.
"Fine," said Max. "Send the address."
Sean sent it.
The second call was to James.
"James," said Sean. "I need a private investigator in Paris. Someone who knows the fashion industry specifically. Someone who can cross-reference industry credentials and event access logs quickly."
"Give me five minutes, sir," said James.
James called back in four.
"A contact named Laurent Beaumont," said James. "Former head of security for two major Paris fashion houses. Currently independent. He knows the circuit." A pause. "He’s available and he’s discreet."
"Send me his number," said Sean.
He called Laurent immediately. The conversation was brief and specific. Laurent asked three questions, all the right ones, and gave Sean a timeline of two hours for preliminary findings.
Sean transferred the retainer.
[8,000 dollars spent]
[Balance: $24,336,977]
[16,000 dollars received]
[New Balance: $24,352,977]
The 2x baseline firing clean. He put his phone in his pocket and went back into the storage room.
=======
Vanessa had the pieces arranged on the examination table in two groups. One group she’d pushed to the left. One to the right.
"Left side can be repaired," she said, when Sean came in. "The cuts are at seam lines but the fabric is intact on both sides. A skilled alterations team can resew them. They won’t be perfect but they’ll hold on the runway."
"How long for the repairs," said Sean.
"Three hours if the team is very good," said Vanessa. "Four if they’re adequate."
"I’m getting a team," said Sean. "Give me the specifications you need."
She looked at him.
"Thread weight, stitch type, needle gauge," said Sean. "Whatever they need to know to match your construction."
"You’re getting an alterations team," said Vanessa.
"Right now," said Sean.
She held his gaze for a moment. Then she pulled a notepad from her coat pocket and wrote in it for ninety seconds, the small precise handwriting of someone translating technical requirements into communicable language.
She handed the page to Sean.
He photographed it and sent it to Laurent with the additional request.
Laurent called back in eight minutes with a name, an address, and a confirmation that the team could be at the venue within the hour.
[12,000 dollars spent]
[Balance: $24,340,977]
[24,000 dollars received]
[New Balance: $24,364,977]
"They’ll be here in forty-five minutes," said Sean.
Vanessa was looking at the right-side group. The stained pieces. Her expression had a different quality for these ones, the composure doing more work.
"The stains," said Sean.
"Irreparable," said Vanessa. "Whatever they used bonds with this fabric type under heat. Attempting to remove it would damage the fabric worse than the stain does." She looked at the three pieces. "These don’t go on the runway."
"What does that do to the show," said Sean.
Vanessa was quiet for a moment. She was looking at the three pieces the way she had looked at the lighting rig specifications on the plane, with the focused attention of someone finding the solution inside the problem.
"The three stained pieces are all from the third act of the show," she said slowly. "The closing sequence. The statement pieces." She picked up her tablet and pulled up the running order. "If I remove them the third act has four pieces instead of seven. That’s not a closing sequence. That’s a fragment."
"What if it’s not a closing sequence," said Sean.
She looked at him.
"What if the show ends at the second act," said Sean. "Deliberately. The third act becomes the absence. The pieces that aren’t there."
Vanessa stared at him.
"You said the collection is about construction as conversation," said Sean. "Negative space is a construction choice. The press will read intention into it because they always read intention into deliberate choices and you will be deliberate about presenting it as one."
Vanessa looked at her running order. Then at the three irreparable pieces on the table. Then at Sean.
"That’s either a terrible idea or a very good one," she said.