Page 117 of Caper Crush
“Or does he want revenge against her because she rejected him?” he asks.
“We need to ask that guy if he is the artist,” I say. “And whether he ever makes copies of paintings.”
“Isn’t that a little too on the nose?” William asks.
“Probably. We should ask him if he does studio visits.”
We step out from behind the van and walk back to the artist’s stand.
“These paintings are great. Are you the artist?” William asks.
“Yes, yes,” the man says.
“Of all these paintings?” I point to the three with the same brushstroke and style as the one at the art exhibit last night. “These three seem different.”
“No, you’re right,” he says. “Those are by Matt.”
“Who’s Matt?” I ask.
“A friend. He gives me a commission if I sell any.”
I peer closely. It is definitely the same brushwork.
“How long have you been painting?” William asks.
Showing a little independence there, William, but I like it. That’s a good question.
“Many, many years.”
“Do you mind if I take a picture of Matt’s painting?” I ask. “I think it’s perfect for my mom, but I want to ask my dad what he thinks.”
“Sure,” he says.
I take a picture.
“Do you ever get asked for commissions?” William asks.
“Oh yeah, all the time,” he says. “But they’re tricky, you know. People describe one thing, you give them that, they change their mind. I don’t like doing them.”
“It’s probably better if they give you a picture to copy,” William says.
“Oh yeah, definitely better,” he says. “But I’m not your guy for copying paintings for money. It gives me a queasy feeling. Matt’s your guy for that.”
“Do you think we can meet Matt? Does he have a studio?” I ask. “I’d love to arrange a studio visit for my mom as part of her gift.”
“Yes, it’s out in Brooklyn. Here’s his card.” The artist pulls out his wallet and hands me a dog-eared card.
I sigh as we walk away from the artist. “It’s a bit depressing that it was so easily copied.”
“It doesn’t have the vitality of yours,” he says.
I look up at William, surprised. “Do you see that?”
“Yes.”
“Let’s call Officer Johnson.” I dial the number, and he picks up immediately. “I think we’ve found the artist who made the forgery. We were out on Eighty-Fifth Street and Lexington Avenue, and there’s a guy selling paintings with the same brushstrokes as the copy last night. The one selling them isn’t the artist, but he gave us the artist’s name and address.”
“You can tell just by brushstrokes?” Officer Johnson asks.
