Page 30 of Traitors Gate

In normal circumstances, Christina would have gone straight to Beth’s office unannounced, but she hesitated, fearing that by now she must have read the letter and, worse, so would William, whom she suspected must be with her.

Christina began to pace up and down the hall while shewaited for the guard to return. She didn’t notice the large empty frame propped up against the wall the first time she passed it, or even the second, but on the third perambulation, she stopped to take a closer look. The name Peter Paul Rubens adorned the bottom of an empty frame that was usually occupied by his painting ofChrist’s Descent from the Cross. She then recalled the Art Logistics van driving away with a large crate on board. Did two plus two make four?

As the minutes passed and the guard failed to return, Christina continued thinking about the empty frame and even began to wonder if … it would certainly explain why Miles would have been willing to part with fifty thousand pounds to prevent Beth becoming director.

‘I’m sorry, madam,’ said a voice as she continued to stare at the empty frame, ‘but Mrs Warwick left about half an hour ago.’

She must have read the letter, was Christina’s first thought, and wasn’t willing to see her. ‘Do tell the director I’ll drop in again on Tuesday morning.’

‘Will do,’ said the security guard, giving away the fact she was still there. He shuffled across, opened the front door, and gave her another mock salute.

Christina walked slowly down the steps and back to her car, deep in thought. Could it be possible? Once she was behind the wheel, she sat there considering the implications, and wondered what she should do next. The decision was made for her when the entrance door opened once again, and this time four figures appeared. Three of them she recognized immediately. She assumed the fourth had to be the ‘swell guy’ from America who’d been staying with them.

Christina continued to watch as they got into William’s Audi and disappeared off in the direction she had recently come from.

She had almost reached home before she’d worked out the common thread that linked all four of them. One of them must have discovered that the gallery’s Rubens was a copy, while the original was in her ex-husband’s apartment in Manhattan. She suspected it had to be the American, otherwise what was he doing in London? Up until now, only three people knew the truth as to where the original was hanging, and she’d signed a non-disclosure document, agreeing never even to hint at the fact that the Fitzmolean’s version was a fake, otherwise Booth Watson had threatened to come after her for every penny she had – and worse.

She made an instant decision, drove three-quarters of the way around the next roundabout and headed in the direction of Knightsbridge. She now had information her ex would want to know about as quickly as possible, and she might even get her hands on the rest of that fifty grand.

By the time she’d parked her car for a third time that day, she’d come up with a plan.

Collins answered the door of Miles’s townhouse, and the usually taciturn butler didn’t attempt to hide his surprise.

‘I need to speak to Miles urgently,’ Christina said, quickly stepping inside before he could close the door.

‘I’ll see if he’s available,’ said Collins not sounding at all hopeful.

‘Just mention the word “Rubens”,’ she said to the disappearing back, aware she now had something to trade. This time she wasn’t kept waiting because Collins reappeared moments later and ushered her through to the boss’s study. Miles remained seated behind his desk when his ex-wife entered the room.

‘This had better be good,’ he snarled as she took the seat on the other side of his desk uninvited.

‘I think it’s bad,’ Christina responded, and proceeded to tell him everything she’d witnessed after turning up at the Fitzmolean earlier that afternoon.

Miles’s initial reaction was very much in character. ‘Are you sure it wasn’t you who told her I have the original, and she’s now aware you’re here?’

‘Think about it, Miles. There’s nothing in it for me to go down that particular road.’

‘I wouldn’t put it past you to play both sides against the middle,’ was Miles’s immediate response. ‘But let me first make sure I know all the details.’

Christina sat back and relaxed for the first time.

‘You say you saw three men dressed in overalls coming out of the Fitzmolean carrying a large crate which they placed in the back of an Art Logistics van?’

‘Yes.’

‘And while you were in the main gallery, you spotted an empty Rubens frame propped up against the wall?’

‘Yes,’ she repeated.

‘And despite asking to see Mrs Warwick, the security guard claimed she wasn’t there when clearly she was.’

Christina nodded. ‘I can see you’ve been paying attention.’

‘While there’s thirty million at stake, you bet I have.’

Christina smelt money.

‘Describe the American,’ said Miles.

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