painting。 I don't mean that I am pletely objective either。 That's impossible。 I merely try to be most of the time； and that allows me to go overboard and be subjective as hell when I see something I really flip over。〃
I finished the last of my drink and set the glass down a little harder than I had intended。 When I looked up； there was a smile on Cassidy's Irish face。 Perhaps he had been baiting me； but I had been through this kind of probing before。 It was natural； in America； for people to think that a critic had been paid off when he gave some artist a rave write…up； especially when they didn't know anything about art。 But Cassidy knew better。
〃You know all this； Mr。 Cassidy； so don't give me any undeserved credit for integrity。 I like money as much as anyone； and I made more money when I taught art history at CCNY than I do now。 I'm ambitious； yes； but for a reputation； not for money。 When I have a big enough reputation as a critic； then I'll make more money； but never a huge amount。 That isn't the game。 The trick…and it's a hard one…is to earn a living as an art critic； or； if you prefer； art expert。 If you want me to authenticate a painting for you； I'll charge you a fee。 Gladly。 If you want to ask my advice on what to buy next for your collection； I'll give you suggestions free of charge。〃 I held up my empty glass。 〃Except for another drink。 Or is the bar closed for me； too？〃
〃I'll get the bottle。〃 Cassidy left the room and returned almost immediately with an open bottle of Cutty Sark and a plastic bucket of cubes。 I poured a double shot over two ice cubes and lit a cigarette。 Cassidy picked up a yellow legal pad from his desk； sat down with it； and unscrewed the top from a fountain pen。
〃I don't have any pictures for you to authenticate； James。 And I didn't intend to ask you for any advice on collecting； but since you made the offer； what do you have in mind？〃
I decided to tell him about my pet project。
〃Entartete Kunst。 Degenerate art。〃
〃How do you spell that？〃
I told him and he wrote it on the pad。
〃It's a term that was used by Hitler's party to condemn modern art。 At the time； Hitler was on an ethnic kick； and the official line was folk； or people's； art。 Modern art； with its subjective individualistic viewpoint； was considered political and cultural anarchy； and Hitler ordered it suppressed。 Even ruthlessly。 Then； as now； no one was quite sure what modern art was； and it became necessary to make up a show of 'degenerate art' so that party men throughout Germany would know what in the hell they were supposed to prevent。 So； in July 1937； they opened an exhibit of modern art in Munich。 It was for adults only； so no children would be corrupted； and the exhibit was called Entartete Kunst。 It was supposed to be an example； a warning to artists； and to people who might find such art attractive。 After the Munich showing； it traveled all over Germany。〃
I leaned forward。 〃Listen to the names of the painters represented…Otto Dix； Emil Nolde； Franz Marc； Paul Klee； Kandinsky； Max Beckmann； and many more。 I have a copy of the original catalogue in New York； locked away in the bottom drawer of my desk at the office。〃
〃Those paintings would be worth a fortune today。〃
〃The painters are all a part of art history now…and any of； say； Marc's paintings are expensive。 But suppose you had every painting in this particular show？ Every German museum was 'purified。' That was the term they used； 'purified。' And the painters represented by the show； if the museum happened to have any of their work； were removed。 Some were destroyed； some were hidden； and some were smuggled out of the country。 But to have the original traveling exhibit； and it would be possible to obtain these pictures 。 。 。〃
Cassidy drew a line through the two words on his pad and shook his head。 〃No； I could never swing anything like that by myself。 I'd have to get a group together to raise the money； and…no； it wouldn't be worth it to me。 Any more ideas？〃
〃Sure； but you didn't ask me here for my ideas on collecting。〃
〃That's right。 Basically； James； you and I are honest men； and； in our own ways； we are equally ambitious。 One dishonest act doesn't make a person dishonest； not when it's the only one he ever performs。 That is； a slightly dishonest act。 A little thing； really。 Suppose； James； that you were given the opportunity to interview〃…he hesitated； moistened his lips with his tongue…〃Jacques Debierue？〃
〃It would merely set me up with the greatest exclusive there is！ But Debierue is in France； and he's only given three interviews in forty years…no； four…and none since his home burned down a year or so ago。〃
〃In other words；〃 he chuckled； 〃you would be somewhat elated if you could look at his new work and talk to him about it personally？〃
〃Elated isn't the word。 Ecstatic isn't strong enough。 Now that Duchamp is dead； Debierue is Mr。 Grand Old Man of Modern Art。〃
〃Don't go on； I know。 Just listen。 Suppose I told you that I could make arrangements for you to see and talk with Debierue？〃
〃I wouldn't believe you。〃
〃But if it was true…and I am now telling you that it is true…what would you do for me in return？〃
My throat and mouth were suddenly dry。 I tipped the plastic ice bucket and poured some ice water into my empty glass。 I sipped it； and it tasted almost warm。 〃You have something dishonest in mind。 Isn't that what you implied a moment ago？〃
〃No。 Not dishonest for you； dishonest for me。 But even so； Debierue is in debt to me； if I want to look at it that way； and I do。 I don't want money from him； I want one of his paintings。〃
I laughed。 〃Who doesn't？ No individual； and not a single museum； has a Debierue。 if you had one； you'd be the only collector in the world to have one！ As far as I know； only four critics have been privileged to see any of his work。 A servant or two has seen his paintings； probably； I don't know… maybe some of his mistresses a few years back； when he was still young enough to have them。 But no one else…〃
〃I know。 And I want one。 In return for the interview； I want you to steal a picture for me。〃
I laughed。 〃And then； after I steal it； all I have to do is smuggle it back here from France。 Right？〃
〃Wrong。 And that's all I'll tell you now until I get a mitment from you。 Yes or no。 In return for the interview； you will steal a picture from Debierue and give it to me。 No picture； no interview。 Think about it。〃
〃Hypothetically？〃
〃Not hypothetical。 Actual。〃
〃I'd do it。 I will do it。 That is； I'll steal one if he has any paintings to steal。 Everything he had went up in smoke with his house； according to the reports。 And if he hasn't painted anything since； well 。 。 。〃
〃He has。 I know that he has。〃
〃You've got a deal。 But I don't have the money for a round…trip air fare to France； not even for a slow freighter。〃
〃Let's shake hands on it。〃
We got to our feet and shook hands solemnly。 The palms of my hands were damp； and so were his； but we both gripped as hard as we could。 He got the humidor and offered me a cigar。 I shook my head and sat down。 I started to pour another drink； but decided I didn't need it。 My head was light and close to swimming。 My heart was fluttering away as if I had swallowed a half…dozen dexies。
〃Debierue；〃 Cassidy laughed。 a snort rather than an actual laugh； 〃is here in Florida； thirty…some…odd miles south； via State Road Seven。 And that is my so…called dishonest act； my friend。 I have just betrayed a client's confidence。 A counselor isn't supposed to do that； you know。 But now that I have； I'll tell you the rest of it。
〃Arrangements were made for Debierue to e to Florida more than eight months ago； and I was the intermediary here。 The emigration was set up by a Paris law firm； who contacted me； and I handled the matter on a no fee basis； which I was glad to do。 I rented the house…a one year lease…hired a black woman to e in and clean it for him once a week； bought his art supplies at Rex Art in Coral Gables； and picked him up at the airport。 The whole thing。 He's a poor man； as you know。〃
〃And you're supporting him now？〃
〃No； no。 The money es from Les Amis de Debierue。 You are…〃
〃I send them five bucks a year myself。〃 I grimaced。 〃It's tax deductible； if I ever make enough money to list it among my many charities。〃
〃Right。 That's it。 The Paris Amis； through the law firm； send me small sums more or less regularly； and I see that the old man's bills are paid…such as they are…and keep him in pocket money。 He doesn't need much。 The house is cheap； because of the rotten location。 It was built by a man who retired to raise chickens。 After six months of trying； and not knowing anything about poultry； he went back to Detroit。 He's been trying to sell the house for two years； and was happy as hell to get a year's rent in advance。〃 Cassidy smiled。 〃I even selected the old man's phony name for him…Eugene V。 Debs。 How do you like it？〃
〃Beautiful！〃
〃Better than beautiful。 Debierue never heard of Gene Debs。 And that's about it。〃
〃Not quite。 How did he get into the States without reporters finding out？〃
〃No problem。 Paris to Madrid； Madrid to P