“It would be exceedingly useful. My client and I would be very, very grateful.”
Jack said nothing.
“Of course,” Haig hurried on, “you’d have to permit me to compensate you for your trouble. And also, the minute I find out these paintings are real—if they are—the burden on me will increase tenfold, as we said earlier. I’ll need that expert we were talking about, need him right away.”
“Ah,” Jack said. “Of course. Well, just let me look little while longer. Just need few more minutes, be sure.”
“Sure?” Haig’s voice had risen a whole register. I almost laughed.
“Impossible, of course, be totally sure, anything in this world,” Jack retreated. “Looking now, things to say, definitely
“Yes, of course. Please, take your time,” Haig said, so obviously meaning the opposite that even Woo snickered.
Jack leaned down once more, this time over the waterfall painting. Haig’s eyes stayed riveted on him as though he were afraid Jack was a mirage and might evaporate. Woo and I sat silent, on the edge of our respective chairs.
We all jumped when the phone rang.
Jack raised an offended eyebrow at this infringement on his concentration. Haig, scowling, spun to the desk and grabbed the receiver. “
23
His clenched jaw broadcasting equal parts determination and fury, Dr. Yang took one step in and stopped short, apparently unprepared for the population explosion in Doug Haig’s office. Haig waved Caitlin away and, all relaxed geniality, held out welcoming arms to the professor. “Dr. Yang! It’s an honor, sir. Please, please, come in.”
“Mr. Haig. I’ve come about our … business. But perhaps this is not a good time.” Dr. Yang seemed to take a tighter grip on the portfolio he held.
“No, it’s an excellent time. To receive a scholar as prominent as yourself? A perfect time. Dr. Yang, you probably already know Dr. Lin, from China?” Haig didn’t even attempt “Qiao-xiang.”
Without missing a beat, Jack bowed low, and Dr. Yang, in reflex, bowed also. Bent over, Jack said, “Have not yet had pleasure, meet reknowned Dr. Bernard Yang.” Slowly, he straightened. Dr. Yang straightened also, looked at Jack, and frowned. I realized I was holding my breath. “Lin Qiao-xiang,” said Jack, his voice about as nasal and accented as he could make it without sounding like Mr. Moto. “From Central University in Hohhot, Inner Mongolia.”
“Dr. Lin,” Dr. Yang answered after a pause. “I’ve heard of you, of course.”
“This old friend, Lydia Chin,” Jack said, indicating me.
“Dr. Yang and I have met, Q. X.,” I told Jack. “An unexpected pleasure to see you here, Professor.”
“Unexpected, yes.” Dr. Yang glanced from me to Jack again. “What exactly is—”
“Dr. Lin and I were just looking over some paintings,” Haig said. “Perhaps you’d like to see them, also?”
Jack cooperatively stepped away, which put him out of Dr. Yang’s line of sight. I wanted to catch Jack’s eyes behind Dr. Yang’s back but I was afraid to. Then I realized that at that moment we could have had a shouting match about anything we wanted right out in the open. When Jack moved, Dr. Yang had caught sight of what was on the table, and he’d lost all interest in us.
The professor leaned over the paintings, moving from one to another, his face draining of color as he examined them. Of course, I thought; this is the first time he’s seen them, seen the quality of his daughter’s work. Doug Haig’s face, on the other hand, was suffused with a gloating joy so powerful I wanted to break a chair over his head. “These are the paintings I was telling you about,” he said casually to Dr. Yang. “The Chaus.”
Dr. Yang slowly straightened up and took a step closer to the triumphant mound of flesh that was Doug Haig. In a dark and quiet voice he said, “These are not Chaus.”
“Really? I’m surprised to hear you say that. Considering what Nick told me about your willingness to … reopen yesterday’s discussion. Also, considering what Dr. Lin said about these paintings.”
Not that Dr. Lin had actually said it yet, but Haig turned confidently to Jack.
“Don’t like to contradict eminent scholar,” Jack said, looking away from Dr. Yang as though embarrassed by his own effrontery. “But my belief, paintings are Chaus.”
“They are not.”
“Your belief, Dr. Lin?” prompted Haig.
“My opinion.” Jack spoke more strongly. “Professional, academic opinion.”
“Which Dr. Lin, as my consultant, will be putting in writing,” Haig assured Dr. Yang. “So while you’re welcome in the gallery anytime, of course, Professor, it turns out you needn’t have troubled yourself to come here today. In fact, unless you’re interested in the art once we have it on exhibit”—he pointed at Anna’s paintings— “you don’t need to bother to come back. Ever.” Haig gave the professor a smile he must have stolen from the Cheshire cat’s evil twin.
The vein I’d seen pulsing in Dr. Yang’s forehead yesterday was pounding away now. “I’d like to speak to you privately, Mr. Haig.”
“Yes,” Jack said, “can see you have many private thing to discuss. I must be getting to next meeting now, also. Mr. Haig, tomorrow maybe will call you—”
“No,” said Haig. “Dr. Lin, you’ve only just met your distinguished colleague. You two must have so much to talk about, I won’t hear of your leaving. Dr. Yang, whatever you have to say, I’m sure Dr. Lin will be utterly fascinated.
