Page 57 of A Curious Ending

Abby settled in her armchair and curled up. She was wearing an apricot dress in fine merino wool. It had gathered sleeves and a band of cream velvet around the hem and a matching velvet collar. Abby had tucked a wool shawl in orange, pink and gold around her toes. The flickering light from the flames had turned Abby’s chestnut hair bronze and Lara was reminded of a marmalade cat she had once had as a child.

‘We need to review the progress we have made regarding Lady Porter and plan our next course of action, but let us leave that until tomorrow. It is after all the Sabbath,’ Abby said, somewhat piously, snuggling down deeper into the chair. ‘Although I would like to look at the photograph of the painting,’ she said, leaning forward a little in her seat.

Lara got out her phone and held out the image she had taken. When she had got back the previous evening – or rather, early morning – Lara had compared the image on her phone to the one online of The Lost Vermeer. In some ways the composition was similar but there were major differences. It was clear to even an inexperienced eye that the painting Dr Patil had inherited was not the Vermeer that had been stolen from a gallery in Boston.

Abby barely glanced at it. ‘I see,’ was all she said.

Lara eyed her suspiciously. ‘You weren’t expecting it to be The Lost Vermeer were you?’

Abby’s eyes were twinkling. ‘Well, I hardly thought it could be. But it is always best to check.’

‘You know something about it, don’t you?’ Lara accused her.

Abby sat back in her chair and stared thoughtfully at the ceiling, wondering how much to tell Lara. ‘I think it would be correct to say that the Vermeer in question is not so much “lost” as… let us say that it has found a new home.’

‘Who’s got it? What happened?’ Lara exclaimed.

‘It is not really my story to tell,’ was Abby’s frustrating response. ‘It is a long story. So long and complicated that one might almost write a book about it.’ She glanced back at the image that was still showing on Lara’s phone. ‘It is clearly not the Vermeer in question, but there is no doubt the style is very similar. But that is neither here nor there.’ She glanced towards the TV screen. ‘You mentioned a film?’ There was a wistful but not unhopeful note to her voice.

Lara gave in. She was not going to get any more out of Abby and in one way, dismissing the painting did get rid of one motive for murder. Although in the light of her conversation with Dr Patil the previous evening, there was still much to think about. Lara’s head began to ache, and she thought Abby was right – it could wait until tomorrow. She reached for the remote control.

Abby sat up straighter in her chair, her eyes shining. ‘I do love films,’ she said unnecessarily.

As Abby had not been around since 1991 there were many to choose from. After scrolling through a number of options they decided on Moulin Rouge.

‘You’re going to love the tango scene,’ Lara told Abby. ‘I don’t suppose anyone danced the tango in your day,’ she teased.

‘Certainly not. Some even condemned the waltz as a man had to hold a woman so close. However, I was lucky enough to have been taught the steps to the Argentine Tango by Rafael Castelli in ’56. Rafael was without doubt the most accommodating Haunter I have ever met. In life he had been the younger son of a distinguished family of Argentinian wine growers.’ Abby smiled mistily and Lara suddenly recalled her mentioning Rafael once before. It was the only time she had ever seen Abby blush. ‘I may have mentioned to you that I am an accomplished dancer and do enjoy this form of exercise enormously,’ Abby added complacently.

Lara hid her smile. Abby was clearly back to her old self.

‘We were at the town residence of the Marques de Rossario in Buenos Aires where I was investigating his wife’s death.’

‘Of course you were,’ muttered Lara.

Abigail raised an eyebrow at her. ‘It turned out the Marquesa was poisoned by the Marques’s own mother. The old lady having taken exception to the young Marquesa’s enthusiasm for French cuisine. It was only Rafael’s intervention that stopped her from poisoning their new French chef too.’

Lara felt there was no answer to this so she shoved another log into the wood burner and pressed ‘play’ on the remote control. Abby settled down contentedly to watch the film.

Lara half watched the screen at the same time as taking up her laptop and her notebook. She had some things that she wanted to sort out. As the film played out, Lara added things to her list and searched online for what she needed. She pulled her phone from her bag and sent and received a few texts. At one point she stood up and fetched her basket from the kitchen as she wanted something she had put there.

At the end of the film, Abby sat back contentedly. She stifled a yawn.

Lara however felt invigorated. ‘I have a plan,’ she said.

Abby immediately got up, all signs of tiredness gone and started to walk about the room. ‘Excellent. I do so love a good plan.’

Lara smiled. ‘Right, first I deleted all of Julian’s contact details from my phone.’

Abby nodded her approval.

‘And then I texted Becky to reassure her that all is well with the jumper.’ Abby noticed that Lara was now wearing the jumper in question. She thought it suited her very well.

Lara continued, looking self-conscious, ‘I know it’s only a jumper,’ she said, looking down at her sleeves, ‘it wasn’t really about the jumper… it was just…’

‘I know,’ Abby interrupted her. There was no need to say more.

‘Anyway, Becky has texted me back to say not to worry, and that she might be in a bit late tomorrow.’ Lara frowned. ‘So I think that sounds like she’s okay,’ she said a bit uncertainly. Trying to regain her previous enthusiasm Lara went on, ‘Then on Wednesday,’ Lara continued with her plan, ‘you and I are going to London.’