The guard slowly retreated, his apprehensive expression still grim.
I wonder what he’d do if I stuck out my tongue? Marc thought playfully. He considered the possible consequences.
He bowed his head penitently in the guard’s direction. The large man’s back stiffened and he turned away, head high, having diffused a volatile situation.
“Okay, so I over-reacted to your stupid observation. I’m a little stressed, myself. Don’t these people ever let you take a break? Let’s go for tea.” Marc grinned. “Lemon’s on me.”
David stared at his younger sibling. “I’m too old to be put through this. What do I care whether we find the forger or not? It’s not my problem. I should have let the insurance company…”
“Yes?” Marc prodded, knowing the answer. “Let the insurance company what?”
“Miss Silvestri, I’ll be taking a break. My colleague and I will be in the restaurant if you should need me.”
“I can bring you something, doctor, if you’d rather,” the eager young woman suggested.
“No. We… I need to get away for a few minutes. Thank you.”
Marc beamed a blazing show of teeth on the rather plain-looking, avid, young woman, whose eyes instantly dropped.
As they left the gallery, Marc ducked his head in deference to the imposing guard.
“You’re really impossible,” David muttered as they started down the hallway leading to the grand staircase. He allowed a small undignified snort to escape. “I envy your impertinence.”
Marc grabbed the older sibling at his side and gave him a powerful hug. David stood in shock, unmindful of the crowd splitting around them.
“No hard feelings.” Marc continued down the hallway with a jaunty step.
David hurried to catch up as Marc descended the wide marble staircase. “I meant no disrespect to your new lady love. I’ve told you it’s not possible she’s the forger, but there is the possibility she may be involved.”
“I couldn’t care less whether or not she’s the hottest forger of Michelangelo since the dawn of the twentieth century.” He bounced ebulliently down the stairs emerging into the enormous classically designed entrance space. They turned toward the Ancient Greek section of the museum past which was the restaurant.
“If they put her away, I’d hide a file in my boxers so she could saw her way out in a flash. We’re gonna live happily ever after, big brother. Happier than I’ve ever been.”
“Marc. Get hold of yourself.” David hurried anxiously after him down the gleaming white corridor. “You hardly know the woman. We can’t throw away months of preparation, months of the effort you expended in preparing to put your incredibly inventive plan into action.”
“Nobody’s throwing anything away. If anything, it’s better now. She’s one of us.”
David blanched. “You told her. You revealed yourself?”
“Yeah.” A silly grin spread over Marc’s boyish face. “Mostly. And I’m planning on revealing a lot more. Gal’s gotta know what she’s dealing with.”
“A romantic infatuation! A schoolboy crush!” The drawing instructor turned on his heel and stormed back past patrons admiring ancient Greek statues.
Marc crossed his arms and leaned nonchalantly against a fragment of a marble nude. A female guard immediately materialized reminding him not to touch the works of art.
Acknowledging her admonition, he stood away from the statue and waited.
Through the crowd of museum patrons he saw the returning slumping figure.
Marc put his arm around his brother’s shoulder and guided him into the table service section of the museum’s dining area.
“Truce? I’ll be infatuated. You be as skeptical as your ancient, non-trusting self needs to be.”
David gave his muscular younger brother a baleful look. “Ancient… at forty. You’re right. And almost totally non-trusting. Not a pretty resolution to our parents’ upbringing.”
“Mom and dear ole Dad were lucky we didn’t drive a stake through their cold, unloving hearts. Sorry.” Marc acknowledged his brother’s look. “Another over-reaction. I guess they did the best they knew how. As if that’s an excuse.”
David slumped into the chair their waiter indicated at an empty table. “Scotch, please. Double.”
“Hmmm. And you never drink. I must be getting through.”
“I feel as if I’ve been beaten with a stick.”
“I think the term in some circles is ‘trod upon.’”
“Trod upon. Yes. By a hoard of confused elephants.” Accepting the quickly proffered drink, he tilted the squat glass to his lips and immediately gagged as the 80-proof alcohol seized his throat.
Marc waited until his brother had regained his composure and drawn fresh air down his burning throat, waving away the concerned waiter.
“Did we learn anything from last night?” The instructor of life drawing with a Doctorate in Art History continued to suck in fresh air in obvious embarrassment.
“I learned the smartest one in the class ain’t the bad guy.”
“I’ve had a chance to check my observations against the museum’s drawings. Both their authentic and inauthentic ones. They were very kind to…”
“Yeah?” Marc leaned forward excitedly.
“It’s merely my own opinion, of course.”
“David, for God’s sake…”
The instructor sighed deeply. “I confirmed what I told you I suspected last evening when you finally calmed down.”
Marc suppressed an amused reaction. Big brother couldn’t resist the dig. He was amazed they hadn’t done each other in years before. No… grateful. He spread his hands in supplication. “And?”
“Possible, but improbable: Christine. Possible, but unlikely: Nathan. Certainly capable: Professor Angeli.”
“Which leaves?”
“The most likely suspect is Mr. Wilde. His skill is unquestionable.” He hurried on. “But I’m not ruling out Miss Emerson completely. She’s very gifted. Under the right circumstances…”
Marc leaned back in his chair, his steaming tea cup obscuring his sly smile.
Chapter 8
“THE PLAZA? That’s not quite some obscure Village place where we can hide from your duenna.” Amanda imagined Marc’s smile at the other end of the phone line reflecting her own. She liked the idea of their being alone where big brother couldn’t find them.
“I’m uptown, you’re half-way uptown, the days are getting longer, we can sit around the fountain and watch pigeons shiver before we go and knock elbows with celebs around 57th Street at some over-priced, theme bistro. I’ve got news to relate, my lovely.” His Humphrey Bogart growl was beginning to send suggestive shivers down her spine.
“Yeah, well, so have I, big boy.” Amanda’s attempt at a tough-gal moll came out before she had a chance to check herself. This maddening man had the most amazing ability to edge her into attempting things she had never before attempted. Dangerous. Exciting.
“Yeah? You do? What have you learned?”
“Nothing that can’t wait. Get your act together, Mr. Hot-shot P.I… I’ve been doing some heavy thinking and I want some heavy answers. I’ll meet you at the Oak Bar.”
“Wha…?”
With a smirk of satisfaction she hung up. He could use a bit of shaking up himself. She was used to making decisions on her own, evaluating events, deciding what course of action to take. He wanted her help. Fine. On her own terms.
