5: Intel comes cheap

Banerjee was looking despondent.
‘That fellow,’ he said, ‘Called me you bloody.’ He took a deep swig of beer. ‘Can you believe it? No one has ever called me you bloody. Not even the notorious Fatlip Fangio, vilest mouth in the West - which is a story for later.'
Bobby Khanna had recently bought back his painting Sunset and Irises on eBay for an undisclosed sum, after discovering it to be a genuine Manet.
‘You informed him,’ Said Inspector Kalra 'that Manet was Monet spelled wrong. And therefore a fake.'
‘Information,' Banerjee explained, 'Is a commodity. You need to understand how the consulting process works.
'Consider the subject of paintings,' Banerjee continued, 'For a small sum, I could but information on all the paintings that ever were.'
‘I knew a man who preferred to buy the paintings instead.’
The remark came from a wizened old man at the next barstool.
'Not buy, perhaps,' he qualified, 'but gather, at any rate.
‘Some of you may know him as L’Colletre, Bade Saab, or, most likely, The Collector.’
Inspector Kalra stiffened. Intel on The Collector was rare or expensive, and here he was getting it for free.
‘What do you know about him?’ he whispered.
Banerjee interjected.
‘The Collector is a myth. I have personally examined several specimens of his handiwork, and it is clear to me that it is the combined effort of a collective. Like Shakespeare and Sujith Vijay.’
‘I can assure you that he is one person. A singular, like Shakespeare.’ The old man said. ‘But it is true, what you say about Sujith Vijay.’
He stared with unseeing eyes at the picture of a French nobleman about to be guillotined. ‘Few people know the story of Sujith Vijay. But that is a story for later.
'The Collector, however,' he continued, 'Does exist. I worked with him.’
Inspector Kalra stiffened more.
‘Only two things he has a weakness for: food, to collect; and paintings, to eat. Metaphorically, of course. He lives off their profits and so eats.'
‘What sort of food?’
‘Anything that strikes his fancy. It could be this glass of beer. It could be the chips on the counter. Or it could be a state dinner for the President of Boputhatswana.’
‘You mean Bechuanaland.’
‘I mean Boputhatswana. It’s on the fourteenth of next month.’
Inspector Kalra was struck by this amazing piece of intel.
‘Did you hear that, Banerjee? This time, we have a headstart. What do you think we should do?’
‘It depends.’ Said Banerjee. ‘What is the reliability of this information? I for one would like to know whether it is worth our while to guard dinners in the first place, when the dreaded serial killer Haddi Appa is afoot in these parts.’
‘Be as it may, capturing the Collector has been our top priority ever since we lost $5000 to a Nigerian swindle. The reward would be welcome, as our emails to the Nigerian ambassador have gone unanswered. As to the reliability, sir, I would like to know where you got your information from.’ Inspector Kalra turned to the old man, who had disappeared.
‘Funny chap.’ Said Inspector Kalra. ‘Comes and goes as he pleases.’
‘Can I have another beer? Someone’s taken mine.’ Asked Banerjee.
‘Beer, please.’ Said Inspector Kalra to the barman. ‘And another bowl of chips. There was one here sometime ago. People can be so careless. What do you think, Banerjee?’