Lost Angel

04

Tony was walking down a hallway of the Alpha Agency, where he was a temporary secret agent. He was following his boss, Agent 32, an older, white-haired man with a wide receding hairline. Next to him were his two colleagues, Agent 48 and Agent 54. Agent 48 was about 45 years old, black-haired, and wore a beard. Agent 54 was light-haired, square-jawed, and sporty-looking. He must have been a few years younger than Agent 48. Tony was the youngest, only 21 years old.

All four men were dressed in black suits and white shirts. They wore black ties.

They had just watched a VHS video recorded in 1982 that featured two painters, one named Randy and one named LeFrost. Then the boss had ordered them to accompany him to a meeting room, to explain a new case they should take care of.

They entered the meeting room. The room was small. It contained a table with several chairs and a small refrigerator with an electric coffee maker on it. The coffeemaker was on, making coffee. The agents sat around the table. Agent 48 moved to pour himself a coffee in a disposable cup.

"Make yourselves comfortable," said Agent 32, the boss. "We are waiting for someone".

Agent 48 poured his coffee and asked if anyone else wanted some. Agent 54 asked for one. Agent 48 poured him a coffee and gave it to him. Then he sat down. A minute later there was a knock on the living room door. It was a woman in her forties, with black hair, dressed in a blue skirt and a light blue blouse. She was holding a tablet in her right hand.

"Ah, come in," Agent 32 motioned for her to sit down. "This is Rebecca Knucles, the director of the Museum of Modern Art. She has a case to present to us. Have a seat, please. Coffee, Mrs. Knucles?"

"No, I'm fine," said the woman, sitting down on a free chair.

"Then tell us about Jacques LeFrost."

"Well," said the woman, picking up her tablet. "I'm afraid that before I explain who Jacques LeFrost was, I have to explain who Randy Randella was. You watched the video I sent you, didn't you?"

"Yes, we just watched it," said Agent 32.

"He was a pop art painter," said Agent 48. "Wasn't he?"

"Exactly. You all know him?"

"Um... I'm not very familiar..." said Tony.

Tony didn't know much about pop art. Or any other kind of art.

"Well, then I'll explain it to you from the beginning. In the mid-sixties, a new kind of art came into being. It was called pop art. This type of art was based on reproducing everyday objects and representing everyday life. It took many ideas from the mass media, whether from TV, movies, or comic books. In the city, artist Randy Randella began to stand out. Randy had been a graphic designer but began painting series of pop-leaning paintings around 1965. He made several series of paintings. His first series was the series of can openers. He painted a series of can openers of different models that became very famous."

"I had one framed," said Agent 54. "A reproduction, unfortunately. I couldn't afford an original."

"Oh, yes, those first series are now very expensive. They're worth millions," said Rebecca Knucles. "Then he made other sets. Tennis rackets, fishnet stockings, telephone books, toilet paper rolls, screwdrivers. Each series was more successful than the last and Randy made a lot of money."

"Toilet paper and screwdrivers?" Tony wondered.

"Yes, it was the fashionable thing to do at the time. But Randy had other interests. He considered himself an integral artist. He started producing experimental films and other kinds of art. Since he had made a lot of money, he bought an old disused shed and built a loft there, which he used as his base of operations. Randy soon surrounded himself with dozens of people from the art scene and from the more idle classes. It was a very diverse group of people in which you could see penniless artists next to millionaires' daughters, movie actors, rock stars... Randy gave fabulous parties where all these strange people mixed, including men dressed as women and women dressed as men. At that time that attracted a lot of attention. People danced and drank for days at those parties, until they were exhausted. Randy always said: the right way to get to my parties is by limousine, and the right way to leave is by ambulance."