"Why would a person come to you instead of using the museum's casting service?"
"They do not offer reproductions of every piece in the museum. Furthermore, I work much more quickly than they do."
"Yet if your clients are, as it seems, replacing original antiquities with your copies, don't you worry that someone in the museum will notice your initials and hold you responsible for the crime?"
"These pieces have been here for years. Their provenances were verified and the objects examined thoroughly before the museum purchased them. No one has a reason to doubt them now. The experts did all their work on the true originals."
"How does one go about copying the originals?"
"All I need are the precise dimensions of an object and a good sketch. I can get that in a relatively short period of time. My patrons would get me into the museum after hours. It's not as difficult as you might think."
"It's a very clever scheme," I admitted, and looked at Mr. Attewater. "Doesn't it bother you that others are profiting from your work when you receive so little?"
"I get enough." We passed a bust of Julius Caesar. "That is not mine," he whispered, "but it is clearly a fake. The dark color of the marble is achieved through liberal application of tobacco juice, and the pits over the surface come from banging on the sculpture with a brush with metal spikes. It works beautifully."
"Amazing," I said, looking at poor Caesar. "But how can you tell it is not authentic?"
"The beauty of a forgery, Lady Ashton, is that there typically is no definitive proof. But here the artist was not an expert." He motioned to the area between Caesar's eye and his hair. "The surface is perfect wherever there is a contour. Everywhere else is pitted to make the marble look aged. I would not have made such a mistake."
"But you do not make sculptures designed to deceive, Mr. Attewater." I raised my eyebrow and smiled at him.
"Touché, Lady Ashton," he replied, bowing slightly to me.
I decided to ask him directly the question that was plaguing me. "Did my husband hire you to make the copies you have shown me?" He did not answer. "Please, you must tell me. I need to know his involvement in this scheme. Did he plan it?"
"I am afraid that I cannot reveal the names of my patrons. I should never work again."
"But you say you are a legitimate artist."
"I am." He began peering at Caesar through his magnifying glass. "But my customers do not always share my scruples." He stood as straight as possible and looked directly at me. "I can, however, ease your mind on one point. I have never done any work for Lord Ashton."
"Thank you, Mr. Attewater." I sighed. "But that does not mean he did not plan this intrigue. It is possible that he had an underling deal with you."
"I had not thought of that," he replied. "However, my buyer is a respected gentleman whom I would not expect to do someone's bidding, so perhaps all Lord Ashton did was buy the stolen originals."
"One hardly knows what to think, but either way it does not look good for Philip," I said. "Why have you told me all this, Mr. Attewater? Don't you fear exposure?"
"I have nothing to fear, Lady Ashton. I have done nothing wrong." He smiled slyly.
"I like you, Mr. Attewater," I said as we continued our stroll through the museum. "I want to commission a work by you."
"I am immensely honored, Lady Ashton. What would you like me to copy?"
"I don't want a copy, Mr. Attewater. I want you to design me an original of your own in the classical Greek style. I like your work and want to see what you can do when not constrained by having to copy something else."
"Do you want it to look ancient?" he asked, his eyes full of light.
"No, do no deliberate damage. I shall not hide the fact that the piece is modern."
"Thank you, Lady Ashton," he said with great dignity. "I shall not disappoint you."
"You're welcome, Mr. Attewater. Perhaps we can get you a more legitimate following of admirers." As I smiled at him, I saw Arthur Palmer rushing past us. "Good day, Mr. Palmer," I called to him. "What brings you to the museum today?"
"Good day, Lady Ashton, Attewater." He nodded briefly at my companion. "I am to meet Arabella and her mother. If you'll excuse me, I am late." He rushed off almost before I could bid him farewell. He had the nervous look I recognized as one of a man about to propose.
"I shall have to call on Arabella tomorrow," I said to no one in particular. "Perhaps I shall have need for your services again, Mr. Attewater, for a wedding gift."
"Your kindness makes me feel that I must confess one indiscretion in my past."
"There is no need to do so, I assure you," I answered.
"Please, follow me." He led me through gallery after gallery until we stopped before a fragment of an Athenian frieze depicting the head of a young man. "Do you like this?"
"It's lovely."
"Yes, it is, isn't it?" Now he took me to the room that held the Elgin Marbles. "Here." He motioned to an object labeled as Slab IV of the North Frieze of the Parthenon. "Look closely. Is anything familiar?"
"Should the other piece be in this room, too? Is it from the Parthenon? It almost looks as if it belongs with this section," I said.
"You are close to the truth. If you have finished with the museum today, I should very much like to tell you something about these two pieces once we step outside."
"You are very mysterious, Mr. Attewater."
I allowed him to lead me out of the building. He looked around in a manner that was meant to appear casual, but I'm afraid he was not particularly successful. Then he stood as near me as he could without being improper and spoke in a low whisper.
"I sold that first fragment you saw to the museum. It is the only time I have misrepresented my work." He removed a handkerchief from his pocket and wiped his brow. "I had been hired to copy all of Slab IV-it was an ambitious plan. Evidently my patron had a client who wished to own the original. Can you imagine the price such a thing would fetch?" He looked around again. "The deal fell through for reasons unknown to me. The order for my copy was canceled."
"This, Mr. Attewater, inspires me to ask a great many questions," I whispered back.
"And I am afraid there are few, if any, I would be willing to answer," he replied nervously. "At any rate, I didn't like my work to go to waste, and I had already nearly finished the head I showed you. I could not bring myself to destroy such a beautiful piece, so I made it appear to be an unrelated fragment of its own. I wish you could have seen it before I damaged it. It was exquisite. But it needed to look old, so I hacked up the nose, cheek, forehead, and shoulders, then restored the nose." He stood up a bit straighter now. "A nice touch, I think, doing the restoration. Gives the thing an air of authenticity."
"Yes, but how did the British Museum come to buy it?"
"Money was very tight for me at the time, and I needed more than the piece would command as a copy. With the assistance of a colleague, I invented a decent provenance for the piece, which I said I acquired in Athens."
"You sold it to the museum yourself?"
"I beg your pardon, Lady Ashton, but could you please try to speak more quietly?"
"Of course," I murmured.
"Yes, I represented myself and completed the transaction with the museum."
"I appreciate your honesty, Mr. Attewater," I said, staring at him closely, pleased that he trusted me enough to share his secret. Of course, he could expose Philip as easily as I could expose him, so I suppose he did not take much of a risk.
"I felt you had the right to know. Do you still wish me to create a new sculpture for you?"
"More than ever." I shook his hand. "I am immensely grateful for all the information you have given me. You have cleared up many questions that were plaguing me."