Belgrave Square - Anne Perry [49]
The photographs on the mantel were framed in silver, polished and gleaming. He looked at them closely. The largest in the center was a family group: a man in formal pose, stiff collar and fixed expression; a handsome woman beside him, full bosomed, smooth throated, richly gowned; and around and behind them a young man, whose features closely resembled the woman, and three girls, all fair haired and wide-eyed, who seemed so alike it was difficult to tell them apart. A fourth girl with darker hair sat on the ground in front, making a charming and almost symmetrical picture. It was stiff in composition, and yet the naturalness of the resemblance and the affection between them gave it a warmth that no photographer could destroy.
The other frames held portraits of the same people individually, several taken some years earlier at different stages of youth. There was also a rather awkward picture of a nervous older couple, afraid of the camera and holding the pose so carefully their lips were pressed together and their eyes staring. Perhaps they were the parents of either Mr. or Mrs. Carswell.
He walked over to the window and looked into the sunlit garden full of flowers, early roses and late lupins making splashes and spires of pink. The curtains were respectably heavy, and draped across the floor at the bottom. He had learned to know that for the display of wealth it was intended. He smiled to himself, and turned back to the room to look at the pictures on the walls.
Here he was surprised to see they were of excellent quality. His work with art theft and fraud had taught him a great deal about paintings and their value, and he recognized a number of artists with ease. He especially liked watercolors for their delicacy and subtle use of light, and he knew as soon as he saw these that they were recent artists and of high quality. Someone in the Carswell house either had excellent taste or was prepared to spend liberally, even on so little used a room as this; or else Mr. Carswell chose to spend his money on art, and was very well advised in the matter.
It would be very interesting to see what he had chosen for the more frequently used rooms, such as the withdrawing room.
He was still looking at a soft landscape, a view of a shaded walk under trees, when Regina Carswell came in. She was obviously the woman at the center of the large photograph, dark haired and broad browed. There were several lines in her face, but they were all comfortable and gave her expression an air of calm.
“Mr. Pitt? My parlormaid tells me you believe I may be of assistance to you. Pray, in what way?”
“Good morning, Mrs. Carswell. It is very gracious of you to give up your time,” he said quickly. “I hope I do not inconvenience you. I am from the metropolitan police. I am inquiring into several recent art thefts, perpetrated in a particularly ingenious manner. The thieves present themselves as gentlemen who are lovers of fine paintings and are here on behalf of certain small museums, both in England and abroad.” He saw the polite interest in her face, and continued. “They say they have heard you have some excellent and little-known works and they would be interested in borrowing them for exhibition, for which of course they would reimburse you accordingly. It would only be for a matter of two or three months, then your paintings would be returned to you—”
“That doesn’t sound dishonest to me,” she said frankly.
He smiled. “It is not, to this point,” he agreed. “Except that there is no museum. They take the paintings—and in three months’ time return to you not your own painting, but an excellent forgery. Unless you examine it closely you would not know. And since it is in your frame, and you believe them to be reputable people, there is no reason why you should look at it more than cursorily, as you replace it on the wall.”
Her face pinched very slightly.
“We have had no such gentlemen here, Mr. Pitt. I’m sorry I cannot be of any assistance to you at all.”
It was what he had expected.