‘It was terrifying. So, dare I ask if you’re any nearer to finding my missing Rembrandt?’
‘Your Rembrandt?’
‘Yes. But then everyone who works at the Fitzmolean is possessive about The Syndics.’
‘I can understand why. But after seven years, I’m afraid the trail has gone cold.’
‘But you can’t have been working on the case for the past seven years?’
‘Less than seven weeks,’ admitted William. ‘But I’m confident the Rembrandt will be back in its place by the end of next month.’
Beth didn’t laugh. ‘I still want to believe it’s out there somewhere and will eventually be returned to the gallery.’
‘I’d like to agree with you,’ said William, as Gino whisked away their empty bowls. ‘But no one else in the department agrees with me.’
‘Do they think it’s been destroyed?’ asked Beth. ‘I just can’t believe anyone could be that much of a philistine.’
‘Not even if it meant they avoided ending up in jail for several years?’
‘Does that mean you know who stole it?’
William didn’t reply, and was relieved when Gino reappeared with their main courses.
‘I’m sorry,’ said Beth. ‘I shouldn’t have asked. But if there’s ever anything I can do to help, please let me know.’
‘There is something you might be able to advise me on. We’ve recently come across an outstanding copy of The Syndics, and I wondered if you knew anyone who specializes in that kind of work?’
‘Not my field,’ admitted Beth. ‘I deal with dead artists, and then only if they’re Dutch or Flemish. But I assume you’ve already visited the Fake Gallery in Notting Hill?’
‘Never heard of it,’ said William, as he touched his jacket pocket, searching for a notebook, quite forgetting that he wasn’t on duty.
‘They have a number of artists working for them who can knock up a fake of any master you require, living or dead.’
‘Is that legal?’
‘I’ve no idea. That’s your department,’ Beth said with a grin. ‘But if you’re not spending every waking hour trying to find my Rembrandt, you must be attempting to solve some even bigger crimes.’
‘The theft of a small phial of moon
dust, and several signed copies of Winston Churchill’s The Second World War.’
‘Are you allowed to tell me more?’
Beth couldn’t stop laughing when William told her about Dr Talbot and the American under-secretary. She even came up with a suggestion when he mentioned the fake Winston Churchill signed editions.
‘Perhaps you should be looking for an unsigned set, so you’ll be one step ahead of your forger.’
‘Good idea,’ said William, deciding not to tell her that was exactly what he’d been doing all day. ‘Perhaps we should meet regularly, as you should have been a detective.’
‘And you should clearly be giving lectures at the Fitzmolean.’
They both laughed.
‘How awkward first dates are,’ said William.
‘Is this a first date?’ asked Beth, giving him a warm smile.
‘I hope so.’