Total pages in book: 97
Estimated words: 91887 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 459(@200wpm)___ 368(@250wpm)___ 306(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 91887 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 459(@200wpm)___ 368(@250wpm)___ 306(@300wpm)
I nod, appreciating the privacy. “Agreed.”
He fills a plate, and I do the same. I choose a selection of salads, a slice of bread, some Serrano ham, and a couple of slices of cheese. I find it impossible to even think of eating any of the hot dishes. The scent of the food is subtle but grounding, and I feel myself beginning to calm down. We can do this. We can work this out.
We settle into wicker chairs across from each other, a low coffee table between us. The incoming light casts a honeyed glow across Axel’s features. He looks calm, and yet there’s an intensity in his eyes that makes me aware of my own pulse again. He pours water into the two glasses.
“So,” he says, taking a bite from a succulent, charcoal-seared, jumbo prawn. “Is this an inside job?”
“I think so,” I reply, trying to keep my voice neutral.
He leans back, his eyes narrowing as he considers me. “The painting came straight from the dealer into the vault. No one else outside of the household should have had access.”
“Right.”
“So, we figure out who did this by going through who could have accessed it.”
“It’s a good starting point,” I say with a nod, reaching for some bread. “Let’s make a list.”
Axel nods and gets up and goes to the sideboard, where he opens one of the drawers and rummages inside. He comes back to his seat with a notepad and a pencil. He offers them to me, and I take them.
We pause for a moment, and then I start.
“Sheldon? He would have access.” I wince guiltily as I say it.
Axel shakes his head. “Yes, he has access. But it’s not him. He’s got money of his own, and he’s never wanted for anything. If he wanted it, he got it, no questions asked. All he had to do was ask. Joseph was generous with his family. That’s why the will was such a shock to all of us. I know for a fact that over the years, many millions have flowed into Sheldon’s account. He would never need to do anything like this.”
“What about Lydia?” I ask hesitantly.
“Also out,” he says, leaning forward to pick up his glass. He takes a sip and then goes on. “She has plenty of money already. She doesn’t have access to the vault. Plus, I’d be surprised if she had any idea where to commission someone both good enough at art and discreet enough to make the fake and keep it quiet.”
I jot both Sheldon’s and Lydia’s names down in my notebook and then write the reasons why we are ruling them out.
“What about Gavin? I’m sure his salary is astronomical, but it won’t be anything like the money he could make selling that painting. And he seems like a man who has connections in every sphere of life.”
Axel doesn’t even consider Gavin. He shakes his head immediately. “He’s never been alone in the house, and certainly not in the vault. It can’t be him. Also, his biometric ID was only added to the vault just before Joseph died.”
I frown. “One of the staff? Maybe a couple of them in it together? They would have pretty much a free run of the place.”
“It’s highly unlikely,” he says, his tone firm. “Even if they managed to pull off stealing the painting, again they’d need serious contacts in the art world to make this worth it. They don’t have that. And the risk is enormous.”
I chew a bite of ham thoughtfully, trying to anticipate every angle. “You had access and contacts in the art world,” I point out.
“As do you,” Axel says, his mouth curling up in amusement. “But you had no idea your father owned that painting, and you haven’t had time to pull something like this off since you arrived here.”
“And you knew my father was planning to ask me to restore the collection when he requested that I come here before he died. You wouldn’t have been careless enough to leave that fake for me to find.”
“Correct,” Axel says. “So, I think that rules us out.”
I still jot down our names and our reasons for being ruled out. Axel watches me in amusement.
“What? I’m being thorough,” I say, and he just smiles and shakes his head.
“Who does that leave?” I ask.
“A few of your father’s trusted friends have been known to stay over after a late night here. They would have been able to get access to the vault, and they would have contacts that could move something like that.”
“But if he trusted them, doesn’t that rule them out?”
Axel shakes his head. “Anyone who had access to the collection must be investigated. No one gets a free pass.”
“Ok, fair point,” I say. “So, we start investigating the friends. Who are they?”
Axel gives me a couple of names that I don’t recognize, and I jot them down with question marks beside them.