“I myself would have loved to work on this restoration,” Delvecchio mused.
“Is this painting among Blackstone’s unfinished works?” I asked.
“Unfortunately not.”
We quickly went through the majority of the restoration documents without detecting a clue or marking that might indicate which painting was used to conceal the masterpiece. But the last three in the folder caught our interest because they were unusually thick as compared to the others.
“Why so voluminous?” asked Joanna, scanning the notes that had been written down by the restorer.
“Because of the stature of the artist and the greatness of their work,” Delvecchio replied, turning back to the first of the three. “Here is the magnificent painting entitled The Calling of Saints Peter and Andrew by Caravaggio in which the beardless Christ needed to be restored. Note his expression of sadness and acceptance. It is beyond beautiful, and one Blackstone must have adored while he restored it.”
“Lovely,” Joanna agreed, glancing at the photograph of the painting before coming back to the document. “I see where the restoration took place a year ago.”
“And no doubt took a month or more to complete,” Delvecchio added.
With such a timetable, there was no way the painting could have been used to hide the masterpiece, I thought.
Joanna had reached the same conclusion, for she requested, “Let us move on to the next restoration.”
The following artist was named Canaletto, a Venetian whose paintings centered on Venice and the Grand Canal that flowed through it. The work that had been restored showed an expansive view of the Piazza San Marco. “He is quite good, but not near the level of Caravaggio,” Delvecchio commented.
Joanna studied the signature page of the document before asking, “I see where Simon Hawke is listed as a co-owner. Isn’t that a bit unusual?”
“On occasion, an owner brings in a painting he wishes to sell, but the condition is such that it requires restoration,” Delvecchio replied. “The individual may lack the funds necessary to have it restored, and Mr. Hawke agrees to do so for a percentage of the ownership.”
“Is that commonly done?” Joanna inquired.
“It is a matter of need, madam,” Delvecchio answered in a neutral voice. “For both of the concerned parties.”
Joanna searched for the final document which was the thickest of all and remarked, “Ah, a Titian!”
“A true master.” Delvecchio smiled broadly at the mere mention of the famous artist. “His true name was Tiziano Vecelli, and he was the most important member of the sixteenth-century Venetian school of art. None surpassed him, or even came close for that matter. The painting we restored was Diana and Actaeon, in which the hunter Actaeon bursts in while the goddess Diana and her nymphs are bathing. She of course is furious and Titian paints her fury in such detail that you can sense every ounce of her emotion.”
“We restored?” Joanna asked at once.
“I was referring to the gallery, madam, for I had not arrived when the restoration was done,” Delvecchio clarified, and pointed to the date on the last page of the document. “It was completed several months before I stepped foot into Hawke and Evans. And next to the date, you will note the name of the most fortunate restorer, James Blackstone.”
“From the sound of your voice, I take it you would have dearly loved to work on the Titian,” Joanna surmised.
“It would have been an opportunity that comes along once in a lifetime, madam,” Delvecchio said quietly, then added an optimistic note. “But, with the gallery’s connection to the Royal Art Collection, from which the Titian came, one never knows what the future may hold.”
“Indeed, the Royal Collection,” Joanna repeated to herself, as her mind seemed to shift into another gear. She glanced at the restoration folder a final time before saying, “I think we are done here. Now, if it is convenient, I would like to see the partially restored paintings you mentioned earlier.”
“Of course, madam, but first I should ask for Mr. Hawke’s permission.”
“Please do so.”
Joanna waited for Delvecchio to leave the office, then quickly turned to me. “Be so good as to stay behind once the restorer and I depart. While Simon Hawke is otherwise occupied, I would like you to write down the name, date, and restorer of every item in the folder. Make no exceptions.”
“What if Hawke attempts to interrupt?”
“Tell him we have Lestrade’s permission.”
“But we don’t.”
“We will shortly.”
I busied myself with the task, all the while keeping my back to the outer gallery so as to hide my activity. Writing down the requested pieces of information, I could not help but wonder if Joanna had detected a clue to the possible whereabouts of the masterpiece. But why copy down a list we had just studied in detail? Title. Date. Restorer. Where could the hidden clue lie in those bare facts?
I glanced over my shoulder and saw Joanna and Delvecchio in conversation with Simon Hawke. I could not hear their voices, but the stern expression on Hawke’s face, together with his other body language, indicated he was displeased with Joanna’s further requests. With some urgency, I hurried with the compilation, always double-checking the data from each restoration before I went to the next.
Now Simon Hawke was raising his voice and I could feel his eyes on my back. I straightened up briefly and appeared to be stretching my spine, all the while glancing out at the gallery in my peripheral vision. Joanna had positioned herself in front of Hawke, and was partially blocking his view of the office as she spoke to him in a commanding tone. “I need fifteen more minutes of Delvecchio’s time. You can allow it now or later when the police arrive. Either way, I can assure you I will have those fifteen minutes.”
I returned to the restoration list and scribbled down the information as rapidly as possible, suddenly wondering if Delvecchio’s time was the excuse rather than the reason for Hawke’s obstinacy.
A loud voice abruptly came from behind me, but it did not belong
