Chương 4
“Then they should reopen them.”
“You sound very brave for someone whose signature is on those representations.”
That stopped him.
Lionel looked from one sibling to the other.
Celeste spoke more quietly. “You knew there were provenance gaps.”
“Not this.”
“You knew the records before 1951 were incomplete.”
“Incomplete is not the same as a direct claim.”
“You signed the disclosure schedule.”
“So did you.”
“Yes,” she said. “But I’m not pretending I arrived here clean.”
Adrian folded the letter along its existing crease. “Lionel, call the insurance representative. Tell her there has been accidental damage to the protective glass and a provenance document has been discovered. Ask her to come tonight.”
Celeste took a step toward him. “You’re going to destroy the sale before we even know whether the claim is credible.”
“I’m going to preserve the facts.”
“And the girl?”
“Her name is Anna.”
“She blocked me in a doorway.”
“Did she touch you?”
Celeste hesitated.
“Did she?”
“No.”
“Did she try to take the envelope?”
“She reached for her phone.”
“Did she damage the glass?”
“I don’t know.”
It was the first truthful answer she had given.
Adrian’s voice remained level. “You told me she broke it.”
“I panicked.”
“And then you held her while you accused her of theft in front of two employees.”
Celeste looked at the cracked portrait. “I said what I thought would make everyone stop looking at me.”
Lionel’s gaze lifted.
Adrian felt anger rise and flatten beneath something heavier. He had spent most of his adult life translating Celeste’s impulses into explanations the rest of the world could tolerate. She had been grieving. She had been drinking. She had misunderstood. She had felt cornered. Each sentence contained enough truth to make the next one easier.
“Go to the library,” he said.
She stared at him.
“You’re not ordering me to another room.”
“I am asking you to stay in the house until the insurer arrives. You may wait in the library, or you may wait in this foyer with Lionel.”
“You’ve become unbearable since Father died.”
“He died six years ago.”
“Yes,” she said. “You’ve been practicing.”
She picked up her handbag. Adrian held out his hand.
“The bag stays.”
Her fingers tightened around the handles.
“Do you think I have another family scandal hidden beside my lipstick?”
“I don’t know what else you removed.”
For a moment, neither moved.
Then Celeste set the bag back on the table. She walked toward the library, one heel striking harder than the other.
Lionel waited until the door closed.
“Sir,” he said, “Anna was using her phone earlier.”
Adrian turned.
“I saw her near the portrait this afternoon. She appeared to be taking a photograph.”
The statement settled uncomfortably between them.
“What kind of photograph?”
“I couldn’t see.”
“Why didn’t you ask?”
“I did. She said Ms. Santos wanted condition records before the appraiser came.”
“Did Pilar?”
“I assumed so.”
Adrian looked toward the blue sitting room.
“Do not discuss that with Celeste.”
Lionel’s brows rose slightly. “I wasn’t planning to.”
Pilar called a car despite Anna’s objections. She also brought a plate of crackers from the staff kitchen and placed it on the table without comment.
Anna ate one because refusing would have required energy.
Her phone contained four photographs of the portrait. The first showed the entire frame. The second showed dust along the lower molding. The third, taken accidentally when she heard the ladder move, was blurred. The fourth was not.
In it, Celeste stood with her back partly turned. One hand held the cream envelope. The other pressed the loosened backing paper against the wall. The brass steps were visible beside her. The time stamp read 5:41 p.m., three minutes before the glass cracked.
Anna had not taken the picture to expose anyone. Pilar had asked for condition photographs of the lower frames because the insurance appraiser’s assistant had complained that the estate records were outdated. Anna had been working from left to right, photographing scratches, water marks, and loose corners. The Vale portrait was the last.
She could show Adrian. The image would prove Celeste had removed the envelope before Anna approached. It would also show that Anna’s phone had been in her hand during work hours, which the agency prohibited except in emergencies or with direct approval.
Pilar had approved the photographs verbally. She had not sent a message.
Anna turned the phone facedown.
“You should tell him,” Pilar said.
Anna looked up. “Tell him what?”
“Whatever is making you hold your phone like it contains a snake.”
Anna nearly smiled. It hurt too much.
Before she could respond, the sitting-room door opened. Adrian entered alone. He had removed his jacket and folded it over one arm. Without the formal line of it, he looked less like the owner of the estate and more like a tired man who had not expected the day to become evidence.
“How are you feeling?” he asked.
“Fine.”
Pilar gave him a look.
Anna corrected herself. “My ankle is a little sore. That’s all.”
“A car is coming.”
“I don’t need—”
“It’s your decision whether to use it. The estate will cover the visit.”
Anna looked at Pilar, who had clearly won that argument before Adrian entered.
He sat in the chair nearest the door, leaving several feet between them.
“I opened the envelope,” he said. “It contained information about the portrait. Nothing suggests you knew what was inside.”
“I didn’t.”
“I believe you.”
The words should have eased something. Instead, Anna felt the pressure move from her chest to her throat.
“Does Ms. Vale?”
“That is not the standard by which your employment will be judged.”
“It is if she calls the agency.”
“She won’t.”
“You can’t know that.”
“No,” he said after a pause. “I can’t.”
May you like
His willingness to admit it unsettled her more than reassurance would have.
“I have instructed the agency that no adverse report will be made,” he continued. “I’ve also told them you are to be paid for the rest of the week whether or not you return.”
