"What would you say to an entire panel of the Elgin Marbles?" I asked, a wide smile spreading across my face. "You're very rich, Cécile. No one would doubt your ability to pay for it. And such a purchase surely would attract the attention of whoever runs the whole show, don't you think?"
"Is it too much?"
"No. Mr. Attewater told me that he began the project once but never completed it. It sounded as if the money had fallen through."
"Money would be no object here." Cécile clapped her hands and the little dogs leapt to her lap. "I rather like the idea. Where do you think I should put the piece? It would be quite large, I suppose."
"You shan't actually get it, Cécile," I scolded, knowing full well she was teasing me. "You must find out who could acquire such a thing for you and then insist on meeting with the man himself; no underling can be trusted to handle such a transaction. Once the appointment is set, all we shall have to do is wait for our man to show himself for the thief he is."
14 APRIL 1888
HÔTEL CONTINENTAL, PARIS
Never before so willingly left Africa earlier than planned. There is so much I must do before my marriage-so much work to finish-do not know how I shall ever accomplish it. Saw Fournier today; excellent talk with him, although have not yet forgiven him for owning the discus thrower. Offered me little help on my latest quest. Thought of marrying K within two months put me in such a generous frame of mind that I let him have a fragment of an Etruscan frieze without countering his offer. Monsieur LeBlanc very disappointed I did not drive up the price.
Have found my wedding gift for K. It is more simple, perhaps, than what she may expect: a brooch of ivory flowers, delicately carved. To my mind it captures her elegant innocence, and I hope she prefers it to something more ostentatious. Lord knows she will have enough of that sort of thing once my mother's jewellery is sent to her. To date, our relationship has been less personal than I hope it will be in the future; another diamond necklace would only be more of the same.
28
Cécile had promised to contact me as soon as she returned from her black-market adventure, but as the morning passed in what seemed to be geological time, I grew tired of waiting for her in my room and decided to go to the lobby and sketch. I was comfortably settled in a quiet corner when I heard two gentlemen conversing as they walked past me.
"I'm sorry not to have more time to talk," Colin Hargreaves said. "I'm late for a rather important meeting."
This piqued my interest. As soon as Colin walked out of the hotel, I followed him, keeping a careful distance between us. It quickly became apparent that he was going to the Louvre. Once inside, I hung back as he walked purposefully up the Grand Escalier. I waited until he was out of sight to ascend the staircase myself. Unfortunately, before I got there, I saw Monsieur Pontiero.
"Lady Ashton! What a delight to see you back in Paris."
"Thank you, Monsieur Pontiero."
"How is your drawing?" He motioned to the sketchbook I was holding. "May I see your work?"
"I'm afraid I don't have time at the moment. I'm in a dreadful hurry."
"Very good, very good. Perhaps we can meet soon?"
"I shall send you a note," I said, rushing up the steps, hoping that I was not too late to figure out where Colin had gone when he reached the top. As soon as I reached the landing on which stood the Nike of Samothrace, one of the most beautiful statues in the museum, I saw Mr. Murray, the keeper from the British Museum, speaking excitedly to Colin.
"...removing a piece from its gallery is no small undertaking." He stopped immediately when he spotted me and bowed politely after I nodded to him. Colin turned around, clearly surprised to see me. Never before had I seen him look unruffled in the slightest; now, however, I detected a trace of color on his cheeks and something less than his usual cool demeanor.
"I'm sorry to have interrupted you," I said, fervently wishing I had heard more of their conversation.
"Not at all, Lady Ashton!" Mr. Murray cried. "I had no idea you were in Paris. I'm pleased to see you." Colin said nothing, nodding almost imperceptibly to acknowledge my presence.
"I am only here for a short time and thought I would take the opportunity to revisit my favorite pieces at the Louvre. Incomparable beauty to be found here."
"Quite," Mr. Murray replied as Colin stood motionless, looking rather irritated, his arms crossed over his chest.
"Don't you think that this statue is terribly displayed?" I asked. "It is most difficult to view." No one replied. "I should think a piece like this would merit an entire room, not a mere landing."
"As always, Lady Ashton, you make a keen observation." And that, apparently, was all I was to have from Mr. Murray on the topic of the Nike of Samothrace. I waited for him to comment further, but he said no more. Obviously his thoughts remained with the subject he and Colin had been discussing.
"I shall leave you two to your conversation," I said, aware that I would learn nothing more from them today. I descended the staircase and walked back through the Rotonde and into the Salle Grecque. After pausing to admire the lovely panels from the Temple of Apollo on Thalos, I hired a cab to take me back to Cécile's.
"Where have you spent the day?" she asked, patting Caesar. I wondered where Brutus was hiding.
"The Louvre. And I was not the only person of your acquaintance there." I quickly told her of my encounter with Colin and Mr. Murray.
"Monsieur Hargreaves again." She sighed. "Such an interesting man. What a coincidence to find him speaking to a keeper of antiquities about removing artifacts."
"I don't see how even you can defend him now." Brutus emerged from under the chair in which I was sitting, darted beneath my skirts, and started to chew on my shoe. I unceremoniously removed him and dumped him in his owner's lap. "Perhaps I should buy you a cat."
"I will refrain from passing judgment on the gentleman, having had great success on my own today. You may remember that when I made inquiries for you about Philip, I met a Monsieur LeBlanc, a man through whom some black-market dealers sell their wares. He is of interest to me at present because he has the means of passing on messages to a man who goes by the sobriquet of Caravaggio."
"Caravaggio?"
"I cannot explain the rationale of these criminals," Cécile said with a disinterested shrug. "That he chooses to style himself as an Italian is of no concern to me."
"Perhaps he is Italian?"
"No, not at all. Even LeBlanc knows that he is English."
"Is he Colin?" I paused. "Colin Caravaggio. It does have rather a ring to it, don't you think?"
"Hardly. I have no indication of Caravaggio's identity, but Monsieur LeBlanc assured me that he is currently in Paris and would respond to me quickly." Cécile reclined on her couch. "I also learned much more regarding your husband's illegal dealings."
"From Monsieur LeBlanc?"
"Non. After leaving my note for Caravaggio, I visited three more shops and managed to bully a good deal of information out of a weaselly little man. When Philip wanted something, he informed the appropriate parties in the black market. These dealers, if we can call them that, scoured private collections and records of recent sales to locate the object. Whoever could find the object in question first received a handsome bonus. Your husband always made it clear that he had absolutely no interest in the provenance of any of the pieces, saying that he didn't care whence they came, only that they wound up in his collection."
I sat silently for a considerable time, pulling at my handkerchief. Caesar tugged at my skirts; I did not bother to push him away.