Secret Things and Highland Flings

by Tracy Corbett

  ‘And you are?’ Nadia Anderson gave him a questioning look.

  ‘A representative of the gallery owner, Lexi Ryan. This is my associate, Ms … Huntworth,’ he said, giving Sophie a fake name. He wasn’t sure why. Other than if this went tits-up he didn’t want her to suffer any bad publicity. He motioned to where Sophie was standing. ‘I’d like the painting removed from the sale and returned immediately.’

  Nadia frowned. ‘May I ask why you haven’t contacted the police and instructed them to deal with the matter?’

  Bloody good question. Luckily, he’d anticipated it. ‘The owner only became aware of the theft this morning. The painting was taken without her knowledge. I have it on good authority the perpetrator of the crime is planning to auction off the original this afternoon. She didn’t have time to contact the authorities. As her representative in Scotland, she asked me to come straight here and alert you.’

  The deputy director rubbed her forehead. ‘And you’re certain the painting listed in today’s auction isn’t a copy?’

  He nodded. ‘I’m positive.’

  ‘Well, to say I’m shocked would be an understatement. I’ve heard of copies being masqueraded as originals, but never the other way around.’ She picked up the phone on her desk and pushed a button. ‘Jenny? It’s Nadia. Instruct Arthur to remove Lot number …’ she flicked through the sales catalogue, ‘one hundred and twenty-three from the auction listing. Have it brought to my office immediately. And alert security, would you? Don’t let anyone leave the building. We have a potential Code four.’ She replaced receiver. ‘Obviously, we’ll need to contact the gallery owner, but I see no merit in involving her until we’ve established the painting isn’t a copy.’ She moved around to the front of the desk. ‘Please, take a seat.’

  Olly and Sophie sat down.

  ‘Excuse me a moment, would you?’ Nadia walked over to the door. ‘My assistant will keep you company until I return.’ She looked over at her colleague. ‘You can use Doug’s office, John. I’ll be as quick as I can.’

  As she left, John Moreton unearthed a bunch of keys from his suit pocket and unlocked an internal door. He disappeared through it, closing it behind him. So much for keeping them company.

  The room descended into silence, broken only by the loud tick of the ornate grandfather clock.

  Olly glanced at his sister. ‘So, gay, huh?’

  Her head rested against the wall behind. ‘Is it so hard to believe?’

  ‘Kind of, yeah.’

  ‘It’s the twenty-first century, Olly. It’s okay to be gay.’ She sounded angry.

  ‘So why keep it quiet?’

  She didn’t answer straight away. ‘I told you why.’

  ‘Oh, right. Our parents.’ He looked around the room. It was a typical office. Beige carpet, cream walls, potted plants on the floor. Hardly the appropriate setting for a heart-to-heart. ‘Are you sure there isn’t more to it?’

  ‘Like what?’

  He shrugged. ‘I don’t know. Maybe not telling our parents was an excuse.’

  She rolled her head to stare at him. ‘What’s that supposed to mean?’

  ‘Do your friends know you’re gay?’

  She hesitated. ‘I doubt it.’

  ‘What about work colleagues?’

  She glowered at him. ‘Which part of I kept it a secret is hard for you to understand?’

  ‘So you never told anyone?’

  ‘No,’ she snapped. ‘I didn’t. Your point?’

  ‘Are you ashamed of being gay?’

  Anger flashed across her face. ‘That’s so judgemental.’

  He held up his hands in defence. ‘I don’t mean to be, but this is a new situation for me. I’m trying to understand. Our parents are both gone, so I’m wondering why you’re still pretending to be someone you’re not?’

  She didn’t answer. It would be easier to shut up, but Sophie wouldn’t have told him if she wasn’t ready for a confrontation. Painful as it was, he needed to persevere. ‘Are you going to tell Louisa?’

  She folded her arms, like she were trying to fold herself into the tiniest space. ‘I suspect she already knows.’

  ‘So I’m the first person you’ve told?’ He patted her knee, not sure what else to do. ‘That was incredibly brave of you, Sophie.’

  She batted his hand away. ‘Don’t patronise me.’

  ‘I didn’t mean to. I’m just saying, you no longer need to pretend. Keeping quiet hasn’t made you happy. So maybe it’s time to embrace who you are.’

  ‘Like it’s that simple.’

  ‘No, but unless you admit who you are and love who you are, how can you expect anyone else to?’

  She turned to yell at him, but it was like the words had got lodged in her throat. Instead, she thumped his damaged arm.

  He didn’t mind. Whatever helped her to let go of the pain she was carrying.

  The office door opened and Nadia reappeared carrying the Woman at the Window, accompanied by two security officers.

  ‘If you’d care to follow me.’ She marched through to the adjacent office where her colleague had set up a wall-mounted light box. She placed the painting on the ledge. ‘Over to you, John.’

  The man picked up a magnifying glass and began examining the painting.

  Olly tried to calm his agitation. There was nothing to be edgy about. It was the original painting. He glanced at Sophie, but her expression gave nothing away. It seemed to take forever. The man wasn’t exactly speedy.

  Finally, he turned to his waiting audience. ‘I can categorically state that this work of art is not a sixteenth-century Renaissance painting but a copy.’

  Olly wondered if he’d heard correctly. ‘Excuse me?’

  ‘It’s a fake,’ he said slowly as if speaking to a particularly dim child. ‘A good fake, but not the original painting.’

  ‘But it can’t be.’

  Olly looked at Sophie. She appeared as puzzled as he was.

  The man aimed a remote control at the light switch. The room dimmed. ‘Look.’ He pointed to the painting with a narrow wand. ‘There’s another image hidden beneath the top painting. It looks mid 1800s, possibly. There’s absolutely no way the top painting is five hundred years old. Judging by the application of paint, I’d be very surprised if it was five months old.’ He snickered, obviously pleased with his little joke.

  Olly felt his insides twist. It was the copy he’d painted. What the hell was going on? It should be the bloody original. Did that mean Lexi had already swapped it? Oh, hell.

  The lights came back on.

  ‘Return the painting to the auction room, would you, John. Apologise to Arthur for the inconvenience.’ Nadia Anderson turned to Olly. ‘I assume this was an elaborate ruse designed to walk out of here with a semi-valuable painting?’

  It took him a moment to cotton on to the allegation being thrown his way. ‘No, of course not. I was led to believe the painting listed for auction today was the original.’

  The deputy director looked nonplussed. ‘Either way, I don’t appreciate having my time wasted. The police can deal with this. I have an auction to oversee.’ She strode for the door.

  ‘Now, hang on a minute.’ Sophie tried to follow, but one of the security guards blocked her path. ‘We were clearly given the wrong information. There’s no need to involve the police. No harm’s been done.’

  ‘On the contrary, Ms Huntworth.’ Nadia Anderson opened the door. ‘Your misplaced allegations could’ve damaged Sotheby’s reputation and involved them in unnecessary scandal. We don’t take kindly to such slander. And besides, this way you’ll get to report the theft of your painting, if that’s truthfully what happened.’

  She disappeared, followed by John Moreton and the two security officers, who were instructed to stay the other side of the door. The distinctive sound of a lock being turned followed their departure.

  Sophie strode over and tried the handle. ‘I can’t believe this. How did this happen?’ She turned to look at Olly.
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  He shrugged. ‘Don’t look at me. I’ve got no idea.’

  And now the police were on their way.

  This was not how this was supposed to play out.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Later that day …

  Shortly after being detained, a bespectacled man appeared and removed the Woman at the Window from the room. It was another fifteen minutes before the door opened again – during which time Lexi had wanted to shout, scream and pace the room, her panic levels threatening to spill over. Only Tasha’s calming voice telling her to ‘get a grip’ prevented her from causing a commotion. ‘Try not to look so guilty,’ her sister had whispered, which was easier said than done, considering she was guilty.

  When the door finally opened, a security guard appeared followed by a woman who introduced herself as Nadia Anderson, the deputy director of Sotheby’s. She was cordial in manner and professional in appearance, and didn’t seem to be accusing them of anything untoward. So when she politely asked them to accompany her to her office to help ‘clear something up’, it was hard to refuse and would have made them look even more suspicious if they had. Which was how they found themselves being led through the busy auction area packed with art collectors eagerly bidding on the works being displayed.

  Lexi scanned the rows of heads, trying to spot Marcus. The auctioneer was in full flow, holding the attention of the eager crowd as he pointed to someone on the phone.

  ‘Selling on the telephone at thirty-seven five hundred.’

  Despite feeling extremely conspicuous at being ‘escorted’ through the room, no one seemed to notice them as they edged past. All eyes were fixed ahead, focused on the bidding.

  The auctioneer pointed to the phone man again. ‘The room came in first. I’m sorry, sir. I’ll take thirty-nine if you like?’

  And then Lexi spotted her ex-husband sitting in the front row. His striking looks and tanned features sent a wave of panic rushing through her. Oh, cripes. She must have faltered, because Tasha bumped into the back of her.

  Her sister reached out to steady her. ‘You okay?’

  She shook her head, trying to curtail the urge to bolt. ‘Marcus,’ she whispered, nodding to where her ex-husband was sitting watching the bidding.

  Tasha gently pushed her forwards. ‘Head down, keep walking.’

  Easy for her to say. Her legs hadn’t turned to jelly.

  Why hadn’t she refused the deputy director’s request? Calling the woman’s bluff was a bold move. But as Olly had pointed out, she didn’t have the attributes for poker. Her left eye started twitching manically, as if proving a point.

  ‘Forty-one thousand clears my books,’ the auctioneer said, raising his hammer. ‘Sold to the commissioned bidder.’ He smacked down his hammer, making Lexi jump. ‘Next up, Lot eighty-two, Matisse’s Blue Nude. I have a reserve price of ten thousand. Shall we start the bidding at ten thousand five hundred?’ He motioned to the tables running along the side. ‘We have an early bid from cyberspace. Eleven thousand, thank you, sir.’

  They reached a doorway. The security guard opened the door and ushered them inside. Lexi felt like a naughty child being sent to the headmistress for stealing sweets.

  ‘I’m looking for twelve thousand,’ the auctioneer said behind them. ‘Eleven thousand seven fifty? I’ll accept your bid, as you’re clearly a woman on a budget. Can I introduce you to my wife?’

  The room rippled with laughter. The noise faded when the door closed behind them. The security guard positioned himself by the door, cutting off any means of escape. Ominous.

  There were two other people already in the room. It took a while for Lexi to realise it was Olly and Sophie. What the hell were they doing here?

  They stood when Lexi and Tasha entered, their expressions a mixture of surprise and supressed panic. Not unlike her own.

  Emotion bubbled inside her. Was it relief? Or anger? She couldn’t tell. Whatever it was, the urge to yell at them for scuppering her getaway was curtailed by Tasha tugging on the bottom of her suit jacket and hissing, ‘Get a grip,’ jolting her out of her shock. She smiled and smoothed back her hair, trying to hide her reaction, so she didn’t blow their cover. Questions would have to wait.

  Nadia Anderson positioned herself in front of the large office desk. Her dark eyes darted from one person to the next, as if waiting to see who would crack first.

  The Woman at the Window was balanced on the chair next to her, watching events unfold, an amused expression on the sultry Italian’s face. It was like she knew she was causing trouble and was relishing the scandal.

  ‘I’m hoping you can clarify something,’ Nadia said, gesturing to the painting. ‘And prevent the need for us to contact the police.’

  Police? Lexi tried to keep her expression neutral, which was hard when her left eye was twitching like an exposed nerve. ‘I’ll do my best.’

  ‘This gentleman claims to be an associate of yours?’ Nadia left the question hanging, waiting for a response.

  Lexi glanced at Olly. If he was nervous, he was hiding it well. He was wearing dark jeans and a black shirt, emphasising his deep blue eyes and honey-coloured hair. The sight of him made her traitorous heart speed up. But she couldn’t afford to lose her composure. Not now.

  She studied his expression, looking for clues, noticing a note of pleading in his eyes. ‘That’s correct,’ she said, hoping that was the right answer.

  The relief on Olly’s face indicated it was. Phew.

  ‘I understand a painting was stolen from your gallery?’ Another loaded question from Nadia.

  Lexi figured the truth was probably safest. ‘That’s right. The Woman at the Window.’

  Nadia gestured to the painting. ‘This painting?’

  Lexi could feel the tension reverberating off Tasha next to her. ‘Yes, that’s correct.’

  Nadia tilted her head as if waiting for more. Oh, hell. What was she supposed to say?

  Thankfully, Olly came to her aid. ‘As I explained to Ms Anderson, the painting was stolen from your gallery in Windsor. As your Scottish representative, you sent me here to alert the auction house to the theft and prevent a fraudulent sale.’

  So that was his plan? She wasn’t sure whether to hug him for attempting to rescue her painting, or punch his lights out for jeopardising their carefully masterminded heist.

  Judging by the pained expression on her sister’s face, she guessed Tasha was in favour of the latter.

  ‘The original painting? Not a copy?’ Nadia said, watching Lexi closely.

  Lexi glanced at Olly. He gave a slight nod.

  ‘Yes, the original painting,’ she said before realising she should be reacting to its safe return. ‘I’m so glad you got here in time,’ she said to Olly, feigning relief. ‘Thank you for responding so promptly to my request for help.’

  Nadia didn’t look convinced. Lexi couldn’t blame her. ‘And you’re sure this is the painting that was taken from your gallery?’

  Lexi realised Nadia didn’t know a second painting existed. Lexi wasn’t supposed to know, either. Crikey, things were getting complicated. She studied the painting on display, choosing her response carefully. ‘It certainly looks like my painting, but without a proper examination I couldn’t be certain.’

  Nadia nodded slowly. ‘My colleague has already examined the painting.’

  Oh, hell. The twitch in her left eye increased. ‘And his conclusion?’

  ‘It’s not the original painting.’

  There was a delay before Lexi gasped. Even to her own ears it sounded fake. ‘It’s … not?’ Her hand went to her chest in mock horror, but she lowered it when Sophie raised an eyebrow, indicating her reaction was overkill.

  ‘I was as surprised as you are, Ms Ryan,’ Olly said, his acting a lot better than hers. ‘We were led to believe this was the original painting.’

  Lexi nodded. ‘As was I, which is why we rushed up here. Our intel must’ve been poor,’ she said, regretting her choice of words when Tasha crin
ged. ‘What I mean is, our information was incorrect. I’m sorry for the confusion and for wasting your valuable time.’

  Nadia wasn’t buying it. ‘You asked for a private viewing prior to the auction. Correct?’

  Lexi’s heart was thudding so hard she was surprised everyone else couldn’t hear it. ‘That’s right. We didn’t want to cause a fuss until we knew it was the right painting.’

  Nadia’s expression turned quizzical. ‘And what conclusion did you arrive at?’

  Oh, cripes. ‘Err …’

  ‘We didn’t get the chance to finish our assessment,’ Tasha said, coming to her rescue. ‘The painting was removed from the room before we’d formed a judgement.’

  God, Lexi loved her sister.

  Nadia’s expression didn’t give much away. ‘How convenient.’

  There was another weighted pause, during which Nadia viewed them all suspiciously.

  Their collective efforts to look innocent varied from Tasha feigning assertiveness to Sophie looking bored and Olly looking mildly alarmed. Lexi was envious of their ability to remain calm and composed. She was the only one struggling not to crack. This was a poker game of high stakes and she was in danger of revealing her hand.

  Someone knocked on the door. The bespectacled man from earlier appeared in the doorway. ‘Apologies for interrupting, Ms Anderson. I’ve tracked down the seller, Mr Aldridge. I have him outside if you’d like to speak to him?’

  Lexi held her breath. Marcus? Oh, hell. Please say no … Please say no …

  ‘Ask him to join us, would you?’

  Damn it!

  The dynamic in the room changed the moment Marcus entered. He was complaining in a loud voice, telling anyone who’d listen that his treatment was ‘outrageous’.

  ‘What’s this about?’ he demanded, looking stylish in an expensive grey suit teamed with a pale pink shirt, playing the part of a wealthy art seller to perfection. And then he spotted Lexi. ‘Lexi?’

  Nadia Anderson looked mildly surprised. ‘Do you two know each other?’

  ‘This is my ex-husband,’ Lexi said, striking first while Marcus was still wrong-footed. ‘The man I believe stole the painting from my gallery.’