Free The Gilded Seal by James Twining Page A

of
    everything.”
    t h e g i l d e d s e a l
    5 9
    “So the existence of a second work has taken you by sur-
    prise?”
    “Absolutely.” Razi gave a vehement nod.
    “The seller is a major Japanese corporation.”
    “It’s always the Japanese these days.” He shrugged. “The
    economy’s not what it used to be. Rus sia, on the other hand—
    now that’s a market.”
    “Have you ever come across a forgery yourself?”
    “Not that I can recall.” He gave another shrug.
    “And yet you buy and sell a lot of paintings, don’t you?”
    “It depends on what you mean by ‘a lot.’ ”
    “Lord Hudson said that you were a good client of his.” She
    opened her file and consulted one of the typewritten pages
    inside. “I counted fifteen purchases and twenty sales in the
    past three years from Sotheby’s alone.”
    “Is that file on me?” Razi’s tone hardened.
    “Parts of it, yes.” Jennifer flipped the cover shut. Although
    it wasn’t exactly standard procedure, she’d brought the fi le in
    with her precisely to see how Razi would react when he saw
    it. So far, he seemed more offended than concerned.
    “Am I a suspect, Agent Browne?” He drew back and glared
    at her.
    “No more than I am, Mr. Razi,” Jennifer said in a concilia-
    tory tone. “But if we’re going to get a result, we need to have
    a fuller picture of you and your business. After all, this could
    have been done by a client or a supplier. Someone who bore a
    personal grudge and wanted to damage your reputation.”
    “I have no enemies.” Razi shook his head firmly. “I left
    them all behind in Iran. Here, in America, I am with friends.
    Many, many friends.”
    “What about Herbie Hammon?”
    Again she saw a flash of impatience in his eyes.
    “Herbie and I are . . . are very close.”
    “Close enough for you to break his arm?” she pressed,
    thinking back to the paramedic’s deposition she’d read in the
    file while she’d been waiting. “Close enough for him to sue
    you for assault?”
    “The case never went to trial.” His humorless tone belied
    his easy smile. “It was a simple misunderstanding. I never
    6 0 j a m e s
    t w i n i n g
    meant to hurt him . . .” A pause. “Are you married, Agent
    Browne?”
    “No.”
    “No,” he repeated. Jennifer found herself bristling at his
    tone, which implied she’d provided the answer he had been
    expecting. Was she that easy to read? “Well, Herbie and I are
    like a married couple, and married couples argue. Things are
    said and done in the heat of the moment. But they don’t mean
    anything. The important thing is that we always kiss and
    make up in the end.”
    There was a long silence as Jennifer waited to see if he
    would continue. If nothing else, the mention of Hammon’s
    name seemed to have thrown him. It was an angle worth fol-
    lowing up on, even if Razi wasn’t prepared to volunteer any-
    thing more himself.
    “Mr. Razi, is there something you’re not telling me?” she
    asked eventually. “Something that might have provoked
    someone out there to try to get at you?”
    “I’ve already said no,” he said with a simple shake of his
    head. “Why, do you . . . ?” He glanced accusingly at the fi le
    on Jennifer’s lap and then snatched his eyes back to hers.
    Jennifer remained silent. The truth was that she had more
    questions now than when she had walked in. Like why had
    Razi driven past his gallery twice before fi nally sprinting
    inside? Or, more to the point, what had prompted him to
    carry the revolver that she had glimpsed strapped to his right
    ankle as he’d made his way downstairs?
    These were hardly the actions of a man who supposedly
    had no enemies. But then again, as the existence of two iden-
    tical Gauguins had shown, in this world, appearances could
    sometimes be deceptive.
    C H A P T E R T E N
    ALAMEDA, SEVILLE
    19th April— 5:15 p.m.
    The wooden gate creaked open, ripping the police notice
    forbidding entry in half and revealing a small