فصل 27

27

So your painting disappeared when?

1941, maybe 1942. Its difficult, because everyone involved is, you know, dead. The blonde woman laughs mirthlessly.

Yeah, so you said. And can you give me a full description?

The woman pushes a folder across the table. This is everything we have. Most of the facts were in the letter I sent you in November.

What do you think its worth?

Paul looks up from his notes. The woman is leaning back in her chair. Her face is beautiful, clear-skinned and defined, not yet revealing the first signs of age. But it is also, he notices now, expressionless, as if she has grown used to hiding her feelings. Or perhaps its Botox. He steals a glance at her thick hair, knowing that Liv could detect immediately if it was entirely her own.

Because a Kandinsky would fetch a lot of money, right? Thats what my husband says.

Paul picks his words carefully. Well, yes, if the work can be proven to be yours. But thats all some way off. Can we just get back to the issue of ownership? Do you have any proof of where the painting was obtained?

Well, my grandfather was friends with Kandinsky.

Okay. He takes a sip of his coffee. Do you have any documentary evidence?

She looks blank.

Photographs? Letters? References to the two of them being friends?

Oh, no. But my grandmother talked about it often.

Is she still alive?

No. I said so in the letter.

Forgive me. What was your grandfathers name?

Anton Perovsky. She spells out his surname, pointing at his notes as she does so.

Any surviving members of the family who might know about it?

No.

Do you know if the work has ever been exhibited?

No.

Hed known it would be a mistake to start advertising, that it would lead to flaky cases like this. But Janey had insisted. We need to be proactive, she had said, her vocabulary skewed by management-speak. We need to stabilize our market share, consolidate our reputation. We need to be all over this market like a bad suit. She had compiled a list of all the other tracing and recovery companies and suggested they send Miriam to their competitors as a fake client, to see their methods. She had appeared completely unmoved when he had told her this was crazy.

Youve done any basic searches on its history? Google? Art books?

No. I assumed that was what Id be paying you for. Youre the best in the business, yes? You found this Lefèvre painting. She crosses her legs, glances at her watch. How long do these cases take?

Well, its a piece-of-string question. Some we can resolve fairly swiftly, if we have the documented history and provenance. Others can take years. Im sure youve heard that the legal process itself can be quite expensive. Its not something I would urge you to embark upon lightly.

And you work on commission?

It varies, but we take a small percentage of the final settlement, yes. And we have an in-house legal department here. He flicks through the folder. He is trying to calculate whether it has any merit at all when she speaks again I went to see the new firm. Brigg and Sawstons? They said theyd charge one per cent less than you.

Pauls hand stills on the paper. Im sorry?

Commission. They said theyd charge one per cent less than you to recover the painting.

Paul waits a moment before he speaks. Miss Harcourt, we operate a reputable business. If you want us to use our years of skill, experience and contacts to trace and potentially recover your familys beloved work of art, I will certainly consider that and give you my best advice as to whether it will be possible. But Im not going to sit here and haggle with you.

Well, its a lot of money. If this Kandinsky is worth millions, its in our interests to get the best deal possible.

Paul feels a tightening in his jaw. I think, given that you didnt even know you had a link to this painting eighteen months ago, if we do recover it, youre likely to get a very good deal indeed.

Is this your way of saying you wont consider a more … competitive fee? She looks at him blankly. Her face is immobile, but her legs cross elegantly, a slingback dangling from her foot. A woman used to getting what she wants, and doing so without engaging a shred of feeling or emotion.

Paul puts down his pen. He closes the file and pushes it towards her. Miss Harcourt. It was nice to meet you. But I think were done here.

There is a pause. She blinks. Im sorry?

I dont think you and I have anything more to say to each other.

Janey is crossing the office, holding up a box of Christmas chocolates when she stops at the commotion.

You are the rudest man I have ever met, Miss Harcourt is hissing at him. Her expensive handbag is tucked under her left arm, and he is thrusting her folder of letters at her as he shepherds her towards the door.

I very much doubt that.

If you think this is any way to run a business then youre more of a fool than I thought you were.

Then its just as well youre not entrusting me with the epic search for the painting you clearly love so much, he says tonelessly. He pulls open the door, and in a cloud of expensive perfume, Miss Harcourt is gone, shouting something unintelligible as she reaches the stairs.

What the hell was that? says Janey, as he strides past her on his way back to his office.

Dont. Just dont, okay? he says. He slams his door behind him and sits down at his desk. When he finally lifts his head from his hands, the first thing he sees is the portrait of The Girl You Left Behind.