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They drew closer to one of them. It was a simple depiction of a room: a tile floor, and part of a blue door. But the focus of the work was clearly a wooden chair with a straw seat that held what looked to be a pipe and cloth on it, and—
Francine pointed to the name that appeared on a wooden box sitting behind the chair that contained some vegetables.
“‘Vincent’?”
“As in…Van Gogh?” mumbled Gibson. “The NFTs were just misdirection, or maybe a digital sampling of the real thing?”
Francine took out her phone, did a search, and showed the screen to Gibson.
“Van Gogh signed his first name in odd places on the pieces he thought had some merit apparently. This one is entitledVincent’s Chair. He painted it in December 1888.” She kept reading. “It was housed in the National Gallery in London.” She paused and then jerked her head up. “Until it was stolen eleven years ago.” She looked around. “It wouldn’t surprise me if all of these paintings had been stolen.”
“So Harry bought them from whoever stole them, and housed them here where he’s the only one who gets to enjoy them. And he bought NFTs of all of them and housed them in a metaverse room that is probably a duplicate of this one.” She looked around at what was clearly world-class artwork from a series of masters. “What a dick.”
“Who cares?” Francine leaned against the wall, closed her eyes, and let out a long, calming breath. She opened her eyes, looked at Gibson, and allowed herself an ear-to-ear smile. “We just found the treasure.”
CHAPTER85
THE VARIOUS MUSEUMS AND PRIVATEcollectors whose works had been stolen were thrilled to have them back in their possession. So happy, in fact, that the finder’s fees paid to Gibson and Francine were quite generous.
On the flight back from meeting with one of the museums, which had had two of the paintings stolen from it, Francine turned to Gibson.
“That night at Stormfield?”
“Yeah?”
“You saved my life.”
“Well, you did the same for me. If you hadn’t warned me, I’d be dead.”
Francine slowly reached over and gripped Gibson’s hand. “Can I ask you a favor?”
Gibson looked at her curiously. “What?”
“Can I…? Oh never mind.”
“What!”
Francine seemed nervous and unsure of herself. “I was just wondering, if I could meet…your kids.”
By Gibson’s expression, this was not what she was expecting. However, she said, “Sure, my parents have been watching them. You can meet them, too.”
***
“This is my friend, Francine,” said Gibson, introducing Francine to her parents. “She was at Temple when I was there.”
The Rogerses shook hands with Francine. Gibson’s father shot his daughter a glance and mouthed,Francine Langhorne?
She smiled but didn’t answer.
“So how did you know Mickey?” asked her mother.
Francine said, “Well, she was pretty famous on campus. But we were both involved in the theater program. Do you remember her inMy Fair Lady? She was fantastic as Eliza Doolittle.”
Rick Rogers looked guiltily at his daughter. “I must’a missed that one. But I saw all her home basketball games.”
“Did you act in plays as well?” asked Dorothy Rogers.
Francine said, “Sometimes it seems like I’ve been acting my whole life.”
