Page 40 of Portrait of an Unknown Woman

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Galerie Fleury

Fleury escorted them up a flight of stairs to the second-floor exhibition room. Here the walls were somber gray rather than red, and the paintings, by all appearances, were of a decidedly higher quality. There were several examples of Dutch and Flemish portraiture, including two works executed in the manner of Anthony van Dyck. There was alsoA River Scene with Distant Windmills, oil on canvas, 36 by 58 centimeters, bearing the distinctive initials of the Dutch Golden Age painter Aelbert Cuyp. Gabriel was doubtful the initials were authentic. In fact, after a moment of undisturbed reverie, he reached the conclusion, wholly unsupported by technical analysis, that the painting was a forgery.

“You have a very good eye,” said Fleury from the opposite side of the room. He added a slice of lemon to Anna’s mineral water and asked, “Something for you, Monsieur Ziegler?”

“The attribution for this painting would be nice.”

“It has been firmly assigned by numerous experts to Cuyp himself.”

“How do these experts explain the lack of a complete signature? After all, Cuyp generally signed the works he painted with his ownhand and placed only his initials on paintings that were produced under his supervision.”

“There are exceptions, as you know.”

Which was indeed the case, thought Gabriel. “How’s the provenance?”

“Lengthy and impeccable.”

“Previous owner?”

“A collector of exceptional taste.”

“French or Swiss?” asked Gabriel dryly.

“American, actually.”

Fleury handed the glass of water to Anna and escorted her from painting to painting, leaving Gabriel free to carry out a second private inspection of the gallery’s inventory. Eventually they all three convened beforeA River Scene with Distant Windmills, oil on canvas, 36 by 58 centimeters, by a forger of indisputable talent.

“Do you mind if I touch it?”

“I beg your pardon?”

“The painting,” said Gabriel. “I’d like to touch it.”

“Carefully,” cautioned Fleury.

Gabriel placed the tip of his forefinger gently against the canvas and dragged it over the brushwork. “Did your man handle the cleaning?”

“It came to me in this condition.”

“Are there paint losses?”

“Not extensive. But, yes, there is some abrading. Particularly in the sky.”

“I assume the condition report contains photographs?”

“Several, monsieur.”

Gabriel looked at Anna. “Does Madame Rolfe like it?”

“That depends on the price.” She turned to Fleury. “What did you have in mind?”

“A million and a half.”

“Come, come,” said Gabriel. “Let’s be realistic.”

“How much would Madame Rolfe be willing to pay for it?”

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