Chapter Nineteen #2
“Anatole went directly to Alexandre Ernaux,” he reported with distaste.
If I could have mustered the energy for humor, I might have found some in the idea of a vampire spying on a vampire who worked for yet another vampire.
“How did Gordon react when you told him Alexandre Ernaux is involved?” Henrik asked.
“That caught him by surprise, but he was more concerned about the mystery buyer.”
“Well, I’m concerned too,” Mina grumbled.
I knew how she felt. Was our father’s painting lost forever?
“How did reporting to Gordon go?” Bene asked.
“Oh, you know,” I sighed. “He was his usual sweet, understanding self.”
Roux snorted but didn’t expand. He didn’t really have to. Everyone knew Gordon well enough to fill in the blanks.
“On the plus side,” he said, “Gen made a major breakthrough.”
My heart fluttered a little. I wasn’t one for cheap praise, but boy, was it nice to get a little credit sometimes.
Everyone leaned forward, waiting.
“I know what’s hidden behind Dad’s painting,” I said, then elaborated.
They looked skeptical at first, but the more I explained — about the voices of a mother and son, the matching voices coming from the Monet in the museum, and about Gordon’s nest egg — the more seriously they considered my theory.
And no one looked more serious than Mina.
“Mom mentioned Dad trying to track down a missing Monet…” she murmured, typing search terms into her phone.
I scooched over to look with her.
“Well, it’s not Woman with a Parasol,” Roux said, leaning over my shoulder to peer at the results.
Wow. This tiger shifter really knew his Impressionists.
“No. That’s in a museum in Washington, DC,” Mina agreed.
Bene patted Roux on the shoulder. “Bonus points for knowledge, champ.” He yawned and handed his glass to Henrik. “Refill, please.”
“Then there’s The Cradle,” Mina said. “But that’s not missing either, and Jean would have been too little to do anything but gurgle.”
Roux opened a laptop and ran his own search. “There are these too. In the Garden at Argenteuil. But one is by Renoir, and another by Manet.”
“Monet,” Bene corrected him.
Mina shook her head. “No, Manet. He, Monet, and Renoir were all friends, and they all met to paint in Monet’s garden.”
Bene rolled his eyes. “Manet, Monet… How are you supposed to keep track?”
“Not that difficult,” Roux grumbled.
“All of those are in museums,” I pointed out. “So we can eliminate them too. We need a missing painting.”
“Monet also painted Camille and Jean in the garden…” Mina murmured, still searching.
Bene perked up. “See? Monet. I was right!”
Marius patted his head. “Amazing, Sherlock.”
Bene shot him a dark look and pulled out his own phone. “This can’t be that difficult.”
We ignored him, focusing on the painting Mina indicated.
She cocked her head at the photo. “That one’s in a private collection. So it would only be a candidate if it was sold or stolen.”
I shook my head. “Surely a stolen Monet would have made the news.”
I’d been so sure about what I’d heard, but the longer we searched, the more I started to doubt myself.
For a while, everyone went quiet, even despairing.
“So, what did we discover today?” Mina finally asked, rebooting the conversation.
I gritted my teeth. “That Gordon is a lying, deceitful crook?”
Marius rolled his eyes. “She means something we didn’t already know.”
I made a face. “Well, we know Gordon hid a painting behind the painting, and that others know about it too — Alexandre whatshisname and the anonymous bidder.”
“We also know the hidden painting depicts Monet’s wife and son,” Roux said.
I shot him a grateful look. The man had more faith in me than I did.
“How about this one?” Bene held out his phone.
I looked, then shook my head at the image of a woman knitting in a garden. “That’s his second wife, and his son doesn’t appear in it.”
“Hopefully, Gordon’s guy can hack into the system and identify the buyer,” Marius said.
Bene stuck out his phone again, interrupting the conversation. “As if things aren’t complicated enough, Monet painted Manet painting in his garden.”
I sighed. It was good of him to try, but I couldn’t see his search leading anywhere.
Then something in my mind clicked, and I grabbed his phone for a closer look.
“How does Monet painting Manet help?” Marius asked.
My heart pounded as I checked the listing. “Because while Monet painted Manet, Manet was painting Monet’s wife and son. So, their voices would be part of the scene, even if they don’t appear in the painting.”
“What exactly did you hear?” Mina asked, growing excited.
“The boy said, Maman, ca va encore durer longtemps?” I recalled. How long is this going to take?
“That’s what I would say if I had to sit for a portrait,” Bene commiserated.
“Then his mother said, On a presque fini, mon chéri,” I finished. We’re nearly done, my dear.
“That fits too,” Mina agreed.
“Yes, and it matched Camille’s voice in the poppy painting in the Musée d’Orsay. So I’m sure that’s them.”
“You’re saying, we’re looking for a painting made by Monet that shows Manet, in which Camille and Jean are off-screen?” Roux asked.
I nodded. “Yes. And this could be it.”
“Not if it’s hanging in a museum somewhere,” Marius pointed out.
I read the listing aloud. “Claude Monet’s Manet painting in Monet’s Garden was owned by the German Jewish artist Max Liebermann and his wife Martha.
” I skimmed a little, then went on. “The painting has not been seen since it went missing from the Liebermann apartment, which was seized by Nazis in 1943.”
The room went quiet as I read and reread the article.
“What’s the source of that information?” Mina leaned in. “Is it reliable?”
I handed her the phone, waiting.
Her lips moved as she read the listing. Then her eyes went wide, and she slowly put down the phone.
“Is that it?” Bene asked eagerly.
Mina’s throat bobbed. “I think we have our painting.”