“Van Gogh actually painted five Sunflowers, of which the National Gallery has one, whilst the others are spread all over the world,” Rowe informed. “What makes the paintings so unique is that they are all done in three shades of yellow and nothing else.”
“You seemed to be focusing your attention on the lower portion of the canvas,” I inquired. “Is there a reason?”
“I was studying his signature on the painting which of course is Vincent, his first name,” Rowe replied. “As you may know, there have been numerous attempts to forge Sunflowers, most of which were not that good. But there was one in particular that was well done and duped some of Europe’s so-called experts. We were asked to authenticate it, and determined it was a forgery based on van Gogh’s signature. You see, to age a painting, forgers use a special baking technique that produces small cracks and wrinkles in the canvas, and these of course are signs of aging. Our forger performed this task admirably, but for some reason the paint applied to produce the name Vincent remained relatively recent. Thus I always tip my hat to van Gogh’s first name.” Rowe studied the lower section of Sunflowers once again, then gave it a final nod. “But you are not here to learn of van Gogh, but to delve into the mystery of the art vandal. So, with that in mind, let us retire to a more private setting.”
We followed him up to the second level and into a small, cramped office with barely enough room for a desk and three chairs. On the walls were photographs of men who at one time or another had occupied the upper echelon of the National Gallery. A thick mahogany door muted any sounds coming from the corridor.
“I of course have read the newspaper accounts of the art vandal, but know little else,” Rowe began. “So please be good enough to furnish all the details and any clues you may have at your disposal.”
Joanna provided Rowe with a concise, yet comprehensive summary, with particular emphasis on the nature and sites of the West End vandalism. She concluded by informing the historian of the connection of the destructive acts to the Hawke and Evans gallery.
Rowe steepled his fingers and peered at us over them. “Hawke and Evans, you say?”
“So the arrows seem to point,” Joanna replied.
“Which raises the possibility of the said gallery collecting insurance on the damaged paintings, for Hawke and Evans is known to be hanging on the edge of financial insolvency.”
“As a result of the recent vandalism?” asked Joanna.
“Oh, no,” Rowe went on. “Their financial difficulties started with the death of Andrew Evans who was the founding partner and the driving force behind the gallery. Hawke was allowed in because he married Evans’s sister, and subsequently paid a large sum to have his name placed first on the signage. It was at this time that Evans’s health was failing and he wanted the extra money to provide security for his wife. In any event, it was Evans who had the eye for the art and the business acumen that is so necessary for an art gallery to thrive. When Evans passed away, the downfall of Hawke and Evans began.”
“But why bother to slash paintings in other galleries?” Joanna pondered.
“As a cover,” Rowe answered. “If you destroy others, it takes attention away from yours. Nevertheless, I have my doubts that this is the purpose behind the vandalism. There are too many galleries involved. One or two would be acceptable. Five would be an unnecessary exaggeration.”
“And the vandalism at private homes surely does not fit with that notion,” said Joanna.
“That, too,” Rowe concurred. “Which brings us to the possibility that the damage was done to stir up the restoration business for the art gallery. Restoration is most profitable, for although labor intensive, it requires little space and even less materials. It is not uncommon for extensive restoration to involve months of work which can cost a hundred pounds or more. In unscrupulous galleries, the time needed to complete the work is prolonged and the cost inflated. But this possibility is unlikely for a reason.”
“The damage is far too extensive,” Joanna noted.
“Precisely,” Rowe agreed. “Widely slashed canvases are most difficult to restore and when they are, the mending is quite noticeable unless done by a master restorer, of which there are few. The vast majority of vandals used either paint or lipstick to deface paintings, and those can be removed with solvents before the retouching is undertaken. So, with these facts in mind, I believe we can exclude insurance and restoration as causes. There must be another that fits better.”
“There is,” said Joanna. “But I neglected an important clue which points to the most likely reason. I did this purposely so that you would give us the broad range of possibilities, and not focus on a single answer.”
“And that clue is?”
“The vandal made a vertical slash on all the canvases and then lifted and folded one edge.”
“He is searching!” Rowe cried out.
“But for what?”
“A number of possibilities, but the most likely one is there is another painting that was hidden beneath the slashed portrait.” Rowe rubbed his hands together, clearly warming to the new subject. “Concealing one painting beneath another is an age-old device used by thieves and smugglers to hide and transport the work of art from country to country to a waiting buyer. Think about it for a moment. How often is a painting taken down and removed to ascertain if something of value lies behind it? Virtually never is the answer.”
“Unless one knows it is there,” Joanna interjected.
“And that raises a difficult question,” Rowe said quickly. “Allow me to give you an example. Several of the paintings slashed date back to the Italian Renaissance and have remained in their frames since that time. How could
