Chapter 3 - THE SIX FALSE SKETCHES
Lorenzo Costa stood beneath a seventeenth-century landscape as though he owned the gallery and every painting inside it.
He wore a camel-colored overcoat and black leather gloves.
His smile remained perfectly civil.
Vivien understood immediately that he hadn't come to buy art.
"You're early," she said.
Lorenzo tilted his head.
"For what?"
"Your appointment. I don't have you on the calendar until Friday."
The lie came easily.
Years of negotiating with dishonest collectors had taught Vivien to speak calmly while deciding whether to throw someone out.
Lorenzo's smile widened.
"Then perhaps your assistant made a mistake."
"Ada rarely does."
He glanced toward the conservation room.
"And where is our mutual friend?"
"Dominic?"
"Naturally."
"Working."
"Of course."
Lorenzo walked toward a display of eighteenth-century engravings.
"You're becoming very important to him."
Vivien folded her arms.
"That isn't your concern."
"Everything that affects Dominic is my concern."
"Then you must be extremely busy."
He laughed softly.
"You're sharper than I expected."
"I get that a lot."
His gaze dropped to her hands.
"May I see the jacket?"
Vivien felt the blood leave her face.
"What jacket?"
"Brown leather. Military style. Quite sentimental, apparently."
She said nothing.
Lorenzo looked toward the windows.
"Chicago has a way of punishing people who become attached to objects they don't understand."
Vivien's phone vibrated.
A message from Dominic.
Do not let Lorenzo take anything. I'm coming.
She placed the phone facedown.
"Would you like coffee?"
Lorenzo studied her.
"You're not afraid of me?"
"Should I be?"
"Most sensible people are."
Vivien smiled without warmth.
"Most sensible people make appointments."
For several seconds, Lorenzo's expression went blank.
Then he laughed.
"Very good."
He approached the door.
"Tell Dominic we should speak soon."
Vivien nodded.
"I'll pass that along."
At the threshold, he stopped.
"And Vivien?"
She looked up.
"Old clothes sometimes carry dangerous memories."
He smiled.
"Be careful what you find in the pockets."
The bell rang behind him.
Vivien waited until he disappeared down Michigan Avenue before releasing the breath she'd been holding.
Ada emerged from the office.
"Was that a threat?"
"Yes."
"Should we call the police?"
Vivien looked toward the rear conservation room.
"Yes."
Dominic arrived twelve minutes later.
He came alone.
His face looked carved from stone.
"Did he touch you?"
"No."
"Threaten you?"
"Carefully."
Dominic exhaled.
"I'm sorry."
Vivien stared at him.
"Did you hear what I just said?"
"Yes."
"Then stop apologizing and tell me why Lorenzo knows about the jacket."
Dominic looked toward Ada.
"Could we speak privately?"
Vivien shook her head.
"Ada works here. She's part of my business. If we're in danger, she deserves to know."
Dominic studied her.
Then nodded.
"You're right."
He turned toward Ada.
"Lorenzo Costa may be involved in a criminal conspiracy. We're trying to determine whether he also had a role in my brother's disappearance."
Ada blinked.
"Your brother's death?"
"Possibly."
Vivien led them into the conservation room.
She laid the transparent film beneath the examination lamp.
Dominic leaned forward.
"Where did you find it?"
"Inside the jacket."
He stared at the numbers.
"Forty-one. Eight. Twenty-three."
"Does it mean anything?"
"No."
"Veritas?"
Dominic looked up.
"It's Latin for truth."
"I know."
A faint smile appeared.
"Of course you do."
She placed the original valuation report beside the film.
"Look at these."
Six Renaissance-style sketches, each attributed to a different sixteenth-century workshop.
All forged.
All insured for extraordinary sums.
Dominic studied the photographs.
"What am I looking for?"
"The paper."
Vivien pointed.
"All six were supposedly created in different cities over several decades. But they used paper manufactured from the same modern fiber mixture."
"So someone made them together."
"Exactly."
"Then?"
"Each sketch has a watermark invisible under ordinary lighting."
She turned on an ultraviolet lamp.
A photograph revealed a small symbol.
A circle intersected by three lines.
Dominic leaned closer.
"That's a shipping mark."
Vivien looked up.
"What?"
"An old freight classification symbol. Mateo used something similar when he worked on the docks."
Her heartbeat quickened.
"Could the sketches have been carrying information?"
Dominic stared at the images.
"They were the information."
Vivien looked at the film again.
41-08-23.
"Three sets of numbers," she murmured.
"An address?"
"Or catalog references."
She opened her gallery database and searched the first number.
Nothing.
She tried auction archives.
Nothing.
Then the conservation inventory for the original estate collection.
A result appeared.
Lot 41 — Cabinet 08 — Drawer 23.
Vivien slowly turned toward Dominic.
"The sketches were never the valuable part."
He frowned.
"What was?"
"The storage cabinet they came from."
She opened the estate auction file.
The collection had belonged to a deceased industrialist named Walter Halden.
Halden had owned shipping yards.
Construction companies.
Private warehouses.
And, for a period, a controlling interest in a company that managed freight access to Chicago's southern docks.
Dominic read the name.
His expression darkened.
"Halden worked for my father."
Vivien swallowed.
"And Mateo?"
Dominic looked at her.
"Mateo spent the last six months of his life investigating Halden's accounts."
The room went silent.
Vivien looked down at the photographs.
"Who requested the authentication?"
Dominic answered quietly.
"Lorenzo."
She closed her eyes.
The entire spring suddenly made sense.
The forged sketches.
The nine million dollars.
The report that had placed her in danger.
Lorenzo hadn't been trying merely to move money.
He'd been trying to move something hidden within a collection.
And Vivien had unknowingly interrupted him.
That evening, Dominic took Vivien to a quiet restaurant away from the usual social circuit.
No lieutenants.
No judges.
No whispered business deals.
Just a corner table, warm bread, and the sound of jazz.
Vivien studied him across the candlelight.
"Why did you really come to my gallery in the spring?"
Dominic set down his glass.
"To stop your report from reaching the wrong people."
"By buying my silence?"
"That was the plan."
"Whose plan?"
"Lorenzo's."
Vivien felt cold.
"And yours?"
Dominic looked at her.
"I intended to determine whether you were deliberately interfering."
She laughed bitterly.
"With my own profession?"
"I didn't know you."
"And after two hours?"
His expression softened.
"I knew you wouldn't lie about a painting even if your life depended on it."
Vivien looked down.
"That nearly turned out to be true."
"I know."
She lifted her eyes.
"And the nine million?"
Dominic was quiet.
Then he said, "I froze the transaction after reading your report."
Vivien stared.
"You did?"
"Yes."
"Then why didn't you tell me?"
"Because I thought keeping you close would protect you."
She looked at him.
"Dominic, you brought me into your home and surrounded me with guards."
"I know."
"You made decisions about my safety without asking."
He lowered his eyes.
"You're right."
Vivien wasn't prepared for the admission.
Dominic continued.
"I've spent so long treating danger like an equation that I forgot people aren't numbers."
She considered him carefully.
"And what am I?"
He looked up.
For a moment, the ruthless expression disappeared.
"Someone I don't want to lose."
Vivien's heart tightened.
Neither spoke.
Then his phone rang.
Marcus.
Dominic answered.
His expression changed immediately.
"What?"
He listened.
Then closed his eyes.
"Are you certain?"
Vivien sat upright.
Dominic looked at her.
"The forensic report came back."
Her pulse quickened.
"The body?"
He nodded.
"The dental records used to identify Mateo were altered."
Vivien covered her mouth.
Dominic's voice broke.
"The man buried under my brother's name wasn't Mateo."
May you like
He stared at her.
"And the person who approved the identification was paid through one of Lorenzo's companies."
