Chương 7
Her makeup had mostly survived the rain. Her hair had not.
She looked exactly like his wife.
That seemed cruel.
He placed the locket on the table.
Her eyes dropped to it.
“You left this.”
“I know.”
“You took the note.”
“Yes.”
She reached inside the coat and removed a folded piece of plastic.
The blood-stained note was sealed inside.
Daniel sat.
Claire stared at it.
“Can I see?”
Elena handed it to her.
Claire held it carefully.
The handwriting was rushed and uneven.
ANNA R. — 1447 — R.V. — IF I’M WRONG, BURN THIS.
Below that, in darker ink:
IF I’M RIGHT, DON’T TRUST THE FOUNDATION.
Claire traced the air above Michael’s handwriting without touching the plastic.
“He wrote like this when he was scared.”
Elena’s face tightened.
“You knew that?”
“He wrote me notes.”
Neither woman looked at the other.
Daniel noticed the waitress approaching.
She stopped beside the table.
“Coffee?”
All three stared at her.
The waitress looked at their formal clothes, Richard’s oversized ivory dinner jacket over Elena’s gown, and the blood-stained paper on the table.
“Or not.”
Claire said, “Coffee.”
Daniel said, “Please.”
Elena shook her head.
The waitress walked away.
Claire folded her hands.
“Tell me everything.”
Elena looked at Daniel.
He said nothing.
She turned back to Claire.
“Michael started sending me documents because he didn’t trust keeping copies in one place. At first I barely understood them. Shipping manifests, insurance values, donor letters. Then I noticed the same intermediary names appearing around pieces that were supposedly unrelated.”
“What names?” Daniel asked.
“One was a logistics company that didn’t seem to exist except on paper. Another was a consultant named Victor Dane.”
Judith’s face had changed.
“You know him?” Claire asked.
“He handled private acquisitions for Richard in the nineties.”
Elena nodded.
“He also signed paperwork on The Penitent Magdalene.”
The auction’s principal lot.
Daniel leaned forward.
“What was wrong with it?”
“The published provenance says it remained in one Italian family collection until 1982, then moved through a Swiss dealer before being acquired by the current owners.”
Claire waited.
Elena continued.
“Michael found a photograph taken in a private residence in Buenos Aires in 1991. The painting was hanging behind the family.”
“So the provenance is false.”
“Part of it is.”
“Why does that matter?”
“Because the Argentine family claimed the painting had been stolen from them.”
Daniel frowned.
“Claimed?”
“They filed a complaint years ago, then withdrew it.”
“Why?”
“No one knows.”
Judith said, “Money.”
Elena looked at her.
“Maybe.”
Claire rubbed her forehead.
“Michael died over a painting?”
“No,” Elena said. “That is exactly what I don’t know.”
She looked at Daniel.
“I’ve spent ten years trying not to make that assumption.”
For the first time that night, he heard the woman he knew inside the voice.
Careful.
Suspicious of certainty.
She always hated conclusions made too quickly.
He resented recognizing her.
The waitress brought coffee.
Claire dumped two sugar packets into hers.
Michael had taken his coffee black.
Daniel remembered that suddenly and wondered whether Claire did too.
Elena unfolded a napkin and began smoothing it flat with her fingers.
A habit.
She did it whenever she was anxious.
Had Anna done it before Elena existed?
Daniel hated the question.
“Why tonight?” he asked.
Elena stopped smoothing the napkin.
“The painting was going to be sold.”
“You’ve known about the auction for months.”
“Yes.”
“What were you planning?”
“To get access to the updated provenance file before it transferred to the buyer’s representatives.”
“How?”
She looked uncomfortable.
Daniel laughed softly.
“Through me.”
“You had board credentials.”
“Through me.”
“Yes.”
Claire drank coffee.
“Okay. That part’s bad.”
Elena looked down.
Daniel leaned back.
“Did you ever love me without needing something from me?”
Elena’s eyes rose.
“Yes.”
“When?”
“Most days.”
He nearly broke at the simplicity of it.
She continued.
“When you sing badly while cooking. When you call your mother on Sundays even when you’re angry with her. When you pretend not to like the dog but let him sleep on your side of the bed. When you buy three versions of the same shirt because deciding takes too long.”
Claire looked away.
Daniel said, “That doesn’t answer anything.”
“No.”
Elena swallowed.
“But it’s what I have.”
He stared at the coffee.
Judith spoke.
“If Richard kept the old files, the warehouse may contain Michael’s original material.”
Elena reached into the coat pocket and placed the brass key on the table.
Claire looked at it.
“We’re actually considering this.”
Daniel said, “We’re not breaking into anything.”
Elena’s mouth twitched.
“You just said we.”
He ignored that.
“We call a lawyer.”
Judith shook her head.
“Richard’s lawyers?”
“No.”
Daniel thought of an old college friend who had become an attorney, then dismissed the idea. Too close to the family.
Elena said, “I know someone.”
“Of course you do.”
She winced.
Daniel regretted the tone but did not take it back.
“A civil attorney,” Elena said. “She advised me two years ago about how to preserve evidence without taking possession illegally.”
“You’ve been preparing for this for two years?”
“Longer.”
Claire rested both hands around her mug.
“What happens if the key opens the vault?”
“We document what is there,” Elena said. “We do not remove anything unless counsel says we can.”
“And if Dad arrives?”
No one answered.
Judith looked at Daniel.
“He will.”
“How?”
“He tracks the warehouse alarm.”
Elena stared at her.
“Then he’ll know as soon as we enter.”
Judith nodded.
“Good.”
Daniel looked at his mother.
“You want him there?”
“Yes.”
Claire whispered, “Mom has become terrifying.”
Judith ignored her.
“If Richard believes you already know what’s inside, he may tell us more trying to control the damage than we could learn from documents alone.”
Elena considered it.
Daniel said, “That’s a terrible plan.”
“Yes,” Judith said.
“Good. Just checking.”
They called Elena’s attorney.
May you like
Maya Brooks answered at 1:07 in the morning with the immediate irritation of someone who had expected this call eventually.
“Do not enter the property.”
