Portrait of an Unknown Woman (Gabriel Allon #22) (29)
“That would explain the letter she wrote to Julian.”
“Only partially.”
“Meaning?”
“She called Georges Fleury first.”
“Why?”
“She wanted to know whether her version of the painting was a valuable Van Dyck as well.”
“And what did Monsieur Fleury tell her?”
“Given my limited experience with him, I can assure you it bore no resemblance to the truth. But whatever he said made her suspicious enough to contact the art crime unit of the Police Nationale.”
Sarah swore softly as she pulled the cork from the bottle of Sancerre.
“Don’t worry, I’m all but certain the police told Madame Bérrangar that they had no interest in pursuing the matter. Which is why she asked Julian to come to Bordeaux.” Gabriel paused. “And why she is now dead.”
“Was she—”
“Murdered?” Gabriel nodded. “And her killers took her mobile phone for good measure.”
“Who were they?”
“I’m still working on that. I’m quite certain, however, that they were professionals.”
Sarah poured two glasses of the wine and handed one to Gabriel. “What kind of art dealer hires professional assassins to kill someone in a dispute over a painting?”
“The kind who’s involved in a lucrative criminal enterprise.”
Sarah took up Gabriel’s phone and enlarged the image. “Is Madame Bérrangar’s painting a forgery, too?”
“In my opinion,” replied Gabriel, “it is the work of a later follower of Van Dyck. Forty-eight hours ago, I told Valerie Bérrangar’s daughter that I thought it was a copy of the painting you sold to Phillip Somerset. But I’m now convinced it’s the other way around. Which would explain why the picture doesn’t appear in Van Dyck’s catalogue raisonné.”
“The forger copied the follower?”
“In a manner of speaking, yes. And in the process, he made marked improvements. He’s quite amazing. He truly paints like Anthony van Dyck. It’s no wonder your five experts were deceived.”
“How do you explain the paint losses and retouching that showed up when we examined the painting under ultraviolet light?”
“The forger artificially ages and damages his paintings. Then he restores them using modern pigments and medium in order to make them appear authentic.”
Sarah glanced at the canvas lying on the countertop. “This one, too?”
“Absolutely.”
Gabriel removed the painting’s condition report from the envelope. Attached were three accompanying photographs. The first depicted the canvas in its present state: retouched, with a fresh coat of unsoiled varnish. The second photo, made with ultraviolet light, revealed the paint losses as an archipelago of small black islands. The last photograph presented the painting in its truest state, without retouching or varnish. The losses appeared as white blotches.
“It looks exactly like a four-hundred-year-old painting should look,” said Gabriel. “I hate to admit it, but it’s possible even I might have been fooled.”
“Why weren’t you?”
“Because I went into that gallery on the lookout for forgeries. And because I’ve been around paintings for a hundred years. I know the brushstrokes of the Old Masters like the lines around my eyes.”
“With all due respect,” replied Sarah, “that isn’t good enough to prove the painting is a forgery.”
“Which is why we’re going to give it to Aiden Gallagher.”
Gallagher was the founder of Equus Analytics, a high-tech art research firm that specialized in detecting forgeries. He sold his services to museums, dealers, collectors, auction houses, and, on occasion, to the Art Crime Team of the FBI. It was Aiden Gallagher, a decade earlier, who had proved that one of New York’s most successful contemporary art galleries had sold nearly $80 million worth of fake paintings to unsuspecting buyers.
“His lab is in Westport, Connecticut,” continued Gabriel. “If the forger made a technical mistake, Gallagher will find it.”
“And while we’re waiting for the results?”
“You’ll arrange for me to have a look at the painting you sold to Phillip Somerset. If, as I suspect, it’s a forgery—”
“Julian and I will be the laughingstocks of the art world.”
No, thought Gabriel as he reached for his wineglass. If Portrait of an Unknown Woman turned out to be a forgery, Isherwood Fine Arts of Mason’s Yard, purveyors of museum-quality Italian and Dutch Old Master paintings since 1968, would be ruined.
20
Westport
They passed through Heathrow security separately—Gabriel under his real name, with the forged Cuyp crammed into his carry-on—and reunited in the departure lounge. While waiting for the flight to be called, Sarah composed an email to Aiden Gallagher, informing him that Isherwood Fine Arts of London wished to hire Equus Analytics to conduct a technical evaluation of a painting. She did not identify the work in question, though she implied it was a matter of some urgency. She was scheduled to arrive in New York at noon and, barring a traffic disaster, could be in Westport by 3:00 p.m. at the latest. Could she deliver the painting to him then?