It didn’t take much research for me to find that all the artists listed were represented by the same art dealer. I was of course familiar with the name just as everyone was. Noémi was well known for her keen eye for art. She had built an empire and a loving home for the artists she worked for. I had only met her briefly before I entered college. 

As it would turn out, a friend that I had made in middle school was her son. She had adopted him when he was seven. It was no secret that she had made programs to help young and underprivileged kids have access to art and safe places to create. She often visited these spaces and created art with the children. As luck would have it, that was where she met a young and talented boy by the name of Leo. Having lost his parent’s not even a year after he was born, he was sent to an orphanage. He was a timid boy and didn’t find much interest in anything besides art. The two bonded over their love for the craft and she quickly adopted him and raised him as if he were her own flesh and blood.

He followed in her footsteps and was now working with her side by side after branching out on his own to build his own network of clients. He had long grown out of his bashful faze and was now an extremely outgoing person. Leo often emailed both Howl and me about his many clients and offered us different paintings to buy. I’d bought several in the past, but it had been awhile since we had a proper conversation. 

After looking over all the artists for a few hours, it was already pushing midnight. Surely he wouldn’t be answering me now. I decided to email him under the pretense of looking to purchase more paintings with no specific artist in mind. Though, that wasn’t the case. I was particularly interested in the artist, J. The one with no website to their name or images of the paintings mentioned in the file. 

I wasn’t able to find anything he had ever worked on. There was only one single article about a an exhibition he had been a part of years ago with the painting only in a sliver of the photograph behind an artist that wasn’t even J. Nothing could be found about the three paintings, Abyss, Come Fall, End?

I sent the email and felt the drowsiness hit me all at once. Not even a few blinks in did my head hit the table, only to be woken up to an incessant buzzing coming from my phone. The screen flashing with Leo’s name. 

Without missing a beat once I answered on the fifth ring, the well versed salesman was fully awake.

“Alistar, my best friend, what do you need?” 

Obviously to sleep and speak with you tomorrow, though I can’t tell him that. I was getting curious anyways and somewhat anxious about this, so I guess his unexpected call is just what I needed. 

“I was wondering about a few different artists.” 

I decided to start off slow, I wanted to know what all these particular artists had in common besides the fact they they are all be represented by Noémi. It was clear that there was another reason why they were all mentioned in that file. I listed them off one by one for him and he attentively listened on the other end. Having known him for quite sometime, I could tell he was flustered by the listing of names even though I omitted the artist, J. 

He wasn’t replying so I asked him about specific works instead. I could hear clicks of a computer’s keyboard and mouse in the background as I waited for an answer. 

“I can’t say anything for certain. I don’t believe they will be sold anytime soon.”

“What about the artist, J? I had seen a few of his paintings in the past, but couldn’t find a website.”

The busied clicks that I had heard just moments before had abruptly come to a halt. 

“As far as I know, he hasn’t worked on anything in quite some time. He’s not the easiest person to deal with. He has no affinity for calls or texts, let alone a website.”

Leo stopped there and waited for my next question. It feels like it’s time to mention the paintings that were left blank in the file. As I spoke, it seemed as if he had hung up on me and I was talking to the wall. 

“They were sold to a private seller about a year ago. there are some other artist’s work I think you’d like. I could send you some portfolios.” 

He was skillfully pivoting away from the topic of J.

“Can I commission him for a painting? You know I always pay top dollar, which means you get a rich vacation.”

“Well, I guess you speak both our languages. You see, J has outlandish rates for his work. You’re my friend, so I didn’t really want to put you through that, but if you insist.” 

I could hear a chuckle, one full of glee at my proposition. We settled on him contacting him as soon as possible.  From what I gathered it was going to be quite the ordeal to get ahold of him. J was apparently the type of person who loathed technology, he abhorred the thought of trying to figure it out. Leo elaborated that he thought it was hilarious considering he was around our age. Our conversation had ran long, but it didn’t seem like a year had passed since we last conversed. 

If I couldn’t get the information from Leo due to confidentiality, I could get it straight from the artist, or at least get some clues. 

Just like that, over a week had passed and I was never able to get ahold of Leo again after a single text he had sent me.  It was short and sweet, stating that J had agreed to the commission and would speak with me soon. So, I hadn’t hear from him since, that is until Friday in the middle of a meeting with my fifth floor team. My phone had rang, but I ignored it. A secretary minutes later knocked politely on the door and informed me of an urgent call. Excusing myself, I left for the front desk and picked up the phone to hear the frantic words,

“He’s gone!”