“So no one has been behaving strangely lately?” Theodore said, almost musing to himself.
Mr Schmidt still looked uncomfortable. Adelia made eye contact and he flushed slightly. So she continued to stare at him until he said, “We had one fake come to light recently.”
“A recent purchase, or merely a recent revelation?”
He dragged the words out of his throat, gripped by reluctance but committed now to tell them everything. “A recent purchase. We bought it in good faith from another gallery, a well-respected one, and no, I shall not name them for I do believe what they said about it. They claim that the painting they sold to us was the true original and they suggested that the work was swapped in transit, though quite how such a matter might have been organised boggles the mind.”
Theodore barked out a short laugh. “On the contrary, sir, everything we have learned so far tells us that it is the most likely thing imaginable!”
“But it would have had to have been an inside job. Someone must have known what painting it was, what the route was, everything.”
Theodore was nodding enthusiastically. “Yes, yes! Oh, they are clever and they are cunning. What a game!”
“A game?”
Adelia elbowed Theodore sharply to get him to rein in his emotions a little. “What has been the outcome of this sorry event?” she asked.
Mr Schmidt said, “Well, we have lost money and we won’t get it back, of course. And it causes arguments, as usual, behind the scenes as it were.”
Adelia asked, “Was the painting of particular interest to the gallery? Had you sought it for some time?”
“No, not really. It was a favourite of a few of our patrons – Mr Julian Hargreaves, Mr Leonard Manning, perhaps a few others. But yes, those two were the most keen to obtain this work. Mr Manning was particularly passionate about it, and now he hangs his head in shame. He has not been to any meetings lately.”
It was another name that rang a recollection for Adelia. She made a connection, and nodded to herself.
Theodore asked a few more questions, but nothing revealed any further information. She had to bite her tongue to keep her words inside until they were finally alone together and walking back towards the railway station.
“I know Mr Manning!” she burst out. “He is the husband of Mrs Barbara Manning.”
“Who?”
“Mrs Manning was supposed to be at the dinner that Lady Purfleet organised – last week, before all this terrible murder happened – but she was not there, and when I asked Lady Purfleet, she suggested that Mrs Manning was no longer welcome. When I spoke to your mother about it, she suggested that Mrs Manning might be innocent and that Lady Purfleet was acting maliciously. But doesn’t this make the case for Lady Purfleet to have been quite right? Or, if not right, at least her actions are now understandable.”
“You’re saying that Lady Purfleet is snubbing Mrs Manning for her husband’s involvement in persuading the gallery to buy a fake painting?”
“Exactly! And so I think I need to pay a call on Mrs Manning as soon as possible.”
“Today?”
“Why not; at least, I shall try. Let us get home and I shall ask Charlotte if she knows what days that Mrs Manning is At Home. That is, if she is speaking to me.”
“What is the root of the disagreement between you and Charlotte?” Theodore asked. “Come on. I am not such a blockhead, you know, and I can see that something is amiss.”
Adelia grimaced, feeling miserable. She did not want to say, “Our darling daughter is having an affair.” She was saved by the sudden arrival of the train, the press of people, the tooting of whistles and the low attack by a bold terrier who began to worry at her skirts. They found themselves in a packed carriage, even though it was first class, and she was able to avoid giving Theodore a proper answer for the whole journey back.
WHEN THEY RETURNED to the house, a maid muttered that Lady Lassiter was still “not feeling herself” but she had gone to the parlour to receive Grace, the Dowager Countess. Adelia rushed up to change while Theodore went to greet his mother, and when Adelia came back down again, she found everyone chatting most amiably.
Grace and Robert were very concerned about Charlotte’s recent indisposition. Adelia bit her tongue. It was even mooted that Charlotte might have to forgo attending the party that night. But when Adelia declared she was still going to go anyway, regardless of whether Charlotte went or not, Charlotte’s manner changed and she became determined to stage a full and remarkable recovery.
Interesting, thought Adelia. She wants to watch me just as much as I want to watch her.
Grace was keen to hear about the progress of the investigation but Charlotte seemed very uncomfortable in having it discussed, and Adelia was aware that there was very little to speak about. They knew, now, the finer details of how the paintings might have been switched, and how Nettles might have operated, but were no closer to the matter of the murder itself. Adelia showed Grace the diagram of potentially linked people, hoping that Grace might be able to shed more light on the connections but she shook her head. She studied it closely but offered no insight.
All of this made Adelia even more determined to solve at least one mystery. The murder of Digby Nettles was not as important as the happiness of her own family, after all. Charlotte was her priority now. She needed to find out what her daughter was up to, and if it was as bad as she feared, then she had to do everything in her power to mitigate the effects of the scandal that would
