returned. Were the painting or paintings ready? As if art could be bought and sold with the same careless ease as a dozen cases of whisky! But since the other was an American, he had begun to explain that when he received a buying commission he held himself bound in equity as well as contract to conduct the widest possible search in order to identify the best possible buy.
âSo get searching,â Campbell had said.
He had coughed a couple of times. Since it would appear that he was not to have direct contact with the principal, he would very much appreciate a guarantee that any expenses properly and necessarily incurred in the search would be reimbursed in the unfortunate event of his not being able to locate what was wanted â¦
Campbell, not possessing a developed sense of decorous business behaviour, had merely produced ten one-hundred-dollar notes and demanded to know if that was good enough? Then he had left, refusing to give any address.
Poperen? His work offered every chance of a very good appreciation in value. Though it would hurt the soul to buy his paintings and know that they were destined to be owned by some Philistine who probably thought Van Dyck was a female new age traveller.
It had begun to seem that, ironically thanks to his own efforts, Poperenâs work had become far more appreciated than he had recognized. Because the artist had died young, he had produced a relatively small oeuvre and those who now owned his paintings were seeing the values of these constantly rise and were therefore unwilling to sell until and unless convinced the market had reached a plateau. But finally he had found in Berlin two of the largest works in the hands of a man who had needed money quickly â¦
It was on his return from Berlin, with price and delivery date agreed, that the stewardess, handing out newspapers, had passed him one of the tabloids. He had asked for a broadsheet, preferably The Times, but she had said that all copies had already been distributed. With nothing else to read â heâd left a paperback in the hotel by mistake â he had begun to leaf through the paper, the standard of its contents confirming his firm belief that democracy was doomed since even the readers of a paper like this had the vote. Then on one of the pages heâd been surprised and disconcerted to see the photograph of the man whom heâd known as Campbell. The short article accompanying this noted that Ed Murray had been found guilty by a Philadelphia court on three counts of vicious assault, one of which had left a man brain-damaged and blind. According to the prosecution, Murray had been the enforcer for one of the Mafia bosses â¦
He had ordered another gin and tonic. For some years there had been reports of criminals laundering money through art; either buying legitimately or from thieves. Dealers had been asked to inform the authorities should they have any reason to suspect this was happening. So should he now tell the police about Campbell? But had he learned anything of the slightest significance? And therefore it did seem pointless, if one looked at things realistically, to suffer the inevitable hassle â¦
Three weeks later, another American, who gave his name as Sumner, had entered the gallery and asked him if heâd secured the paintings. Heâd explained how hard the search had proved, then added that he thought he had found a seller. At the moment, he was trying to persuade the seller to accept a price that was fair to all parties â¦
âHurry it up,â Sumner had said.
There could no longer be any doubt as to where his duty lay. Heâd almost rung the police; almost ⦠That night, his thoughts had ranged far and wide. The recession had hit the art world really hard and profits at the gallery had slumped alarmingly. Davina had never been a careful spender, but compared to Rachael, she was a miser. Rachael had taken to the luxury life with an