Free Code of Siman by Dayna Rubin

another photograph, held it to the light and squealed with joy. “Yes, it’s a Monet.”
    Philippe grasped her wrist and looked at her intently. “You know what this means now don’t you?”
    A car breezed past them; the paper wrapping caught in the wake of the passing car took flight while Natanya looked on in horror. Her body poised to take flight, Philippe leaned against her to keep her from leaping forward to capture the pieces.
    Once the car had passed, he relaxed against her, swallowed hard and tilted her face to him. “You mean more to me than any of these photographs. Nothing we do will have any significance if you aren’t here beside me. Don’t do that again?”
    Natanya shrugged, “I didn’t do anything.”
    Philippe raised his eyebrows, and then stood, brushing the mixture of sand and gravel from his beige slacks and black silk shirt.
    Natanya inched her way on her hands and knees as she sought to retrieve the remnants of the newspaper wrappings, until Philippe reached down to stop the search and rescue mission. Taking hold of her elbow, he pulled her to her feet.
    “We’re not doing that, let it go. We’ve got what we need.”

Chapter Twelve
Overt Recognizable Imagery
     
    “How would she know that the painting is a fake? I’ve had experts from the Signature Art Conservatory here to examine it. I haven’t had it out of my sight…this is impossible!”
    The staff assistant silently extricated himself from the office as Warren continued his rant.
    “We’re going to check it again,” Warren declared to an empty room. The report from the findings of the Vermeer was clenched in his hand. His face contorted in anger, the veins of his neck standing out, he sought out Dauphine.
    Marching into the lab from his office, he saw her. She appeared to be shutting down the units supplied by NASA, giving instructions to Gage as they methodically checked each screen.
    The air crackled with tension as Warren held out the crumpled paper to Dauphine. “This oxygenated restorative cleaning system has a listing of chemical substances that shouldn’t be in the painting. Is that what you found?” Warren moved back as Dauphine pushed past him, continuing to press buttons and monitor the activity on the screens.
    “No.” Dauphine stated, still absorbed with her ‘shut down’ procedures.
    Warren took a deep breath. “Okay, then you’ve found something wrong with the signature.”
    Dauphine straightened up for a moment, then pulled out a memo pad from her pocket, consulted it, then placed it back into her pocket.
    “Um, no. Gage, why don’t you take a moment and get something to eat…I think it’s been a while since you’ve had a break.” Gage looked from Dauphine to Warren, nodded, and then withdrew from the room.
    “There’s a hand written note on this report, stating that you believe the painting is a fake. Where are the supportive findings? And why wouldn’t it be constructed in a professional format?”
    Warren reread the reports he was holding, and then turned back toward Dauphine. “This concerns me. I asked you here to remove the stain. The stain has been removed without any damage to the painting, and now you’re saying that it doesn’t matter because the painting is actually a fake. Is that right?”
    Dauphine glanced up from under the canvas cover she was using to shield the light to evaluate the sensitive calibration of one of the units.
    Warren placed his hands on his hips, walked toward the unit, then away from the unit, then back again, as he waited for her to finish.
    “Well, that about does it. We’re finished here.” Dauphine straightened once she was free from the confines of the canvas covering. She pushed her hair back out of her eyes and directed her full attention toward Warren. “You look angry.”
    “Shouldn’t I be?”
    “Probably so. I would be if it were my painting.”
    “Thank you for that…” Warren said somewhat sarcastically. “But you haven’t answered my