The Omega Factor(26)

“Seems like finding Sister Claire would be easy,” he said to Zeekers. “There has to be a list somewhere of all the women connected with that order.”

“I’m sure there is, and that will be the first place we start. But ask yourself, if they were that careful to sweep things clean, don’t you think they were equally careful with their membership rosters?”

Good point.

But it was still worth the effort, along with identifying the dead woman, who almost certainly had been a nun too.

None of that was his problem, though.

His was standing across the room as Kelsey switched on some lamps.

“The diocese supplied this apartment,” she said to him. “Part of the compensation for my services.”

“They pay you?”

“Not me. But they do pay the convent. It isn’t much. But it helps us survive.”

Zeekers had told her not to leave Ghent for a few days. Nick didn’t like the implications, the suggestion that Kelsey might have somehow been complicit. Time, though, for some answers.

“Tell me why the laptop was so important?”

And he listened as she explained what she’d found beneath the copy of the Just Judges, along with the high-resolution images she’d made.

“That’s an incredible find,” he said to her. “Congratulations, you solved a nearly ninety-year-old cold case.”

“It was an amazing feeling, stripping away the overpaint and seeing that masterpiece again.”

Interestingly, no one had informed the police about the treasure that had lain beneath the copy. Kelsey had not said a word and the curator of the altarpiece, who’d been waiting for them when they returned from the convent, had not reported that fact either. Zeekers was operating on the assumption that a copy had been destroyed. It now being the original would definitely change everything.

“Why not tell the police the truth?” he asked her.

“That’s not a decision for me. I was told to tell no one.”

“You were going to tell me.”

She sat on the settee. Her red hair hung loose, which made her look much more like the woman he remembered. “You’re different, Nick. I didn’t see the harm. Besides, you were always good at keeping a secret. And a public announcement was coming shortly anyway. The curator was already making plans for a press conference to announce it to the world.”

He liked that he was being placed in a category by himself. “You look tired.”

“I am.”

The laptop sat on the cushion beside her.

“Thank goodness I recorded those images,” she said. “I have the entire panel mapped in high res. Which I only finished two days ago.”

“Who knew that?”

“I kept my prioress informed, the curator, and, of course, Monsieur de Foix, who funded the restoration. He was coming to Ghent in a few days. I planned to show him everything.”

“Tell me exactly what happened earlier.”

“I finished working and closed the workshop around 5:30. I wanted to come back here, rest a little, clean up, and change clothes. I did that and returned a few minutes before you arrived. When I came in through the front door I heard someone in the other room. I entered just as the fire started. I saw the woman in black and tried to stop her. That’s when you appeared.”

“That was a foolish risk you took.”

She rubbed her stomach. “My gut is sore from that kick. But I had to protect the panel and”—she pointed at the laptop lying next to her—“those images.”

Something else occurred to him. “Did anyone know you would be returning to meet me?”

She shook her head. “Not a soul. I considered it no one’s business.”

Interesting. Had the intruders known she was gone, but not known she would be returning? Clearly yes, since the last thing they would have wanted was an interruption.

“Do you usually leave your laptop there?” he asked.

“Always. It’s safer than carrying it around. Of course, I didn’t realize someone was targeting my work. How would I?”

But the two women who’d orchestrated the burglary clearly knew everything.

“Tell me more about what you found. Secrecy doesn’t really matter much anymore.”

“No, I guess it doesn’t.”

He heard the defeat in her voice.

“When it was created in the early 1940s, the copy of the Just Judges was intentionally coated in a wax layer to artificially age it, so it would appear like the others. Over time that wax had thickened and darkened. It looked terrible. Part of my restoration involved a complete removal of that layer. During the removal I knew some of the underlying paint would come off. It’s unavoidable, and I just repair it as I go. When some did come off, that’s when I saw the underpaint. Which in and of itself is not suspicious. Artists paint over things all the time. But when I noticed that the underpaint was exactly like what had been painted over it, that changed things.”

“So you started taking more off?”

She nodded. “The copy was worthless and could be replaced. So I removed it and discovered the original Just Judges beneath. Right there. Totally intact.”

Amazing. He was definitely intrigued. “Who created the copy?”

“A Belgian by the name of Jef Van der Veken. He was a conservator, copyist, and infamous art forger of old masters. Really good at it, too. He was hired in 1939 but did not deliver the panel until 1945. Of course, World War Two came in between so there was nowhere to deliver it to. He was quite talented and did a wonderful job. But now we know he had the original below to help him. His copy was added when the altarpiece was returned to Belgium after the war as a place keeper. Nothing more. But there has always been some controversy associated with it.”