Tracy counted her way up to the tenth tier and moved in twenty seats. The man in the twenty-first seat turned to her. "Any problem?"
"None, Gunther." She leaned over and kissed him on the cheek.
He said something, and she had to lean closer to hear him above the babel of voices surrounding them.
"I thought it best that we not be seen together, in case you're being followed."
Tracy glanced around at the huge, packed black cavern. "We're safe here." She looked at him, curious. "It must be important."
"It is." He leaned closer to her. "A wealthy client is eager to acquire a certain painting. It's a Goya, called Puerto. He'll pay whoever can obtain it for him half a million dollars in cash. That's above my commission."
Tracy was thoughtful. "Are there others trying?"
"Frankly, yes. In my opinion, the chances of success are limited."
"Where is the painting?"
"In the Prado Museum in Madrid."
"The Prado!" The word that flashed through Tracy's mind was impossible.
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