Portrait of an Unknown Woman (Gabriel Allon #22) (41)

A young woman with the elongated limbs of a Degas dancer greeted Gabriel and Ménard outside I. M. Pei’s iconic glass-and-steel pyramid. Wordlessly she escorted them across the immense Cour Napoléon and through a door reserved for museum staff. Two uniformed security guards waited on the other side. Neither seemed to notice when Gabriel set off the magnetometer.

“This way, please,” said the woman, and led them along a corridor flooded with fluorescent light. After a walk of perhaps a half kilometer, they arrived at the entrance of the National Center for Research and Restoration, the world’s most scientifically advanced facility for the conservation and authentication of art. Its inventory of cutting-edge technology included an electrostatic particle accelerator that allowed researchers to determine the chemical composition of an object without need of a potentially damaging sample.

The woman entered the passcode into the keypad, and Ménard led Gabriel inside. The cathedral-like laboratory was gripped by an air of sudden abandonment.

“I asked the director to close early so we could have a bit of privacy.”

“To do what?”

“Look at a painting, Allon. What else?”

It was propped upon a laboratory easel, shrouded in black baize. Ménard removed the cloth to reveal a full-length portrait of a nude Lucretia thrusting a dagger into the center of her chest.

“Lucas Cranach the Elder?” asked Gabriel.

“That’s what it says on the placard.”

“Where did it come from?”

“Where do you think?”

“Galerie Georges Fleury?”

“I always heard you were good, Allon.”

“And where did Monsieur Fleury find it?”

“A very old and prominent French collection,” answered Ménard dubiously. “When Fleury showed it to a curator at the Louvre, he said it was probably the work of a later follower of Cranach. The curator had other ideas and brought it here to the center for evaluation. I’m sure you can guess the rest.”

“The most advanced facility for the restoration and authentication of paintings in the world declared it to be the work of Lucas Cranach the Elder rather than a later follower.”

Ménard nodded. “But wait, it gets better.”

“How is that possible?”

“Because the president of the Louvre declared it a national treasure and paid nine and a half million euros to ensure it remain in France permanently.”

“And now he’s wondering whether it’s a Cranach or crap?”

“In so many words.” Ménard switched on a standing halogen lamp. “Would you mind having a look at it?”

Gabriel went to the nearest stainless-steel utility cart and after a moment of searching found a professional-grade magnifier. He used it to scrutinize the brushwork and craquelure. Then he stepped away from the painting and placed a hand contemplatively to his chin.

“Well?” asked Ménard.

“It’s the best Lucas Cranach the Elder I’ve ever seen.”

“I’m relieved.”

“Don’t be,” said Gabriel.

“Why not?”

“Because Lucas Cranach the Elder didn’t paint it.”



“How many more are there?”

“Three,” answered Ménard. “They all emerged from Galerie Georges Fleury with a similar provenance and the same uncertain attribution. And the experts of the National Center for Research and Restoration, after careful evaluation, declared all three to be newly discovered works by the masters themselves.”

“Anything good?”

“A Frans Hals, a Gentileschi, and the most delicious Van der Weyden you’ve ever laid eyes on.”

“You’re an admirer of Rogier?”

“Who isn’t?”

“You’d be surprised.”

They were sitting at a table at Café Marly, the Louvre’s stylish restaurant. The declining sun had set fire to the glass panels of the pyramid. The light dazzled Gabriel’s eyes.

“Are you formally trained?” he asked.

“As an art historian?” Ménard shook his head. “But four of my officers have advanced degrees from the Sorbonne. My background is in fraud and money laundering.”

“Heaven knows, there’s none of that in the art world.”

Smiling, Ménard removed three photographs from a manila envelope—a Frans Hals, a Gentileschi, and an exquisite portrait by Rogier van der Weyden. “They were acquired by the Louvre over a ten-year period. The Van der Weyden and the Cranach were purchased during the tenure of the current president. The Frans Hals and Gentileschi were acquired on his recommendation when he was the director of the paintings department.”

“Which means his fingerprints are on all four.”

“Evidently, he and Monsieur Fleury were quite close.” Lowering his voice, Ménard added, “Close enough so that rumors are swirling.”

“Kickbacks?”

Ménard shrugged but said nothing.

“Is there any truth to it?”

“I wouldn’t know. You see, the Central Office for the Fight against Cultural Goods Trafficking has been ordered not to investigate the matter.”