“No, I’m- I’m sorry miss,” he stumbled, staring.
The smile of a vampire; it was a very dangerous thing.
Chapter 6
“Did someone rob the Louvre?” I gaped, staring wide-eyed at the sea of vintage gilded frames, which could have been art themselves and not just borders for the irreplaceable, precious seventeenth-century oil and acrylic paintings within them. They were spread all throughout our lab in the basement of the Nationally Gallery Museum.
“I don’t believe so.” My boss, Dr. Leo Lovell, had his long nose only inches from the canvas, a magnifying glass to his eye as he inspected the art. “But I’m sure they’re going to want to rob these beauties from us the moment they find out. Magnificent. They are all purely magnificent. Look here at the richness of this color and the intense light and dark shadows used. I have not seen such…”
At this point, he was no longer talking to me, which was normal for Dr. Lovell. Never had I met a person who so perfectly reminded me of a mad scientist. It was like he came right out of central casting with wild, frantic white hair that only grew at the sides of his head, leaving a bald spot in the middle. His clothes were always a little too big and in the same shades of dark brown, light brown, and beige, with mustard or blue thrown in occasionally. I was waiting for him to holler, “Great Scott!” just once, so I could call him Dr. Emmett Brown from Back to the Future.
Putting on my white gloves, I walked over to where he stood, looking over his shoulder at the painting of a mother who stood in the shadow of the door frame of some house in seventeenth-century France. In her arms was a baby wrapped in white linen. I didn’t need the magnifying glass to see every beautiful brushstroke and the deep layers of paint that seeped into the canvas. The normal level of the effects of aging had built up, but the hue was off.
“It reminds me of the Le Nain brothers, but also…” I whispered, unable to look from it.
“You feel Georges de La Tour’s candlelight, right?” He added, standing up straighter.
“Exactly.” I nodded. “Expect the candlelight is the sun in this one. The use of chiaroscuro is so similar, but it isn’t him. I can’t imagine how much more detail will be revealed when we remove that build up. Do we know the artist?”
For the first time since I’d entered the lab, a frown marred his lips as he shook his head. “I’ve gone over it five times already, and they are done by the same hand yet not signed, nor even named. To think such an artist is lost from history and we may be among the first experts to study them is mindblowing.”
The first?
“Where did they come from?” I realized I had forgotten to ask what I really meant.
“Even stranger,” he replied, his arms crossed over his chest as he tucked his chin. “When I arrived early this morning, they were already here. Simone said a private collector wished to have them cleaned, and in exchange, would allow us to catalog and display it within the museum for a time. Speaking of Simone, are you all right? I heard she was the one given the position of Senior Associate Conservator.”
I had to bite my lip to keep from screaming. “I hadn’t known it was her.”
“Oh,” he said, realizing he’d been the first person to let me know who I’d lost out to.
“Simone’s been here longer, so I guess it’s only fair.” I tried to change the course of the conversation.
Simone Ward was nearly my polar opposite; where I was tall, she was short, where I had more boobs, she had more hips and butt. We were both African American, but she was lighter than me. I assumed she might be biracial, but I didn’t bother to ask. She had numerous tattoos on her back, and when I was a mortal, I wouldn’t have even sat still for a shot. I would say we had the same brown eyes, but she had started wearing hazel contacts for some reason. The only thing we seemed to have in common was our love for fine art.
“And your work and knowledge are significantly better than hers. Everyone can see it, and one day you’ll be rewarded as you deserve.” He patted me on the shoulder once before turning toward the paintings again.
For some reason, having his approval meant more to me than anything else, and I found myself no longer caring about the job. Instead, I focused on several pieces of art, some of them were even taller than me, and I was three inches shy of six feet.
“I can’t believe all of this belongs to one person,” I repeated, the astonishment returning. I tried to think of the high walls and the square feet of the house, which could hold so much treasure. Must be nice.
“Yes, Simone apparently misplaced the owner’s information, but of course, they will be in contact…damn!” He checked his watch before rushing to his desk. “I need to be at the university.”
“Okay, which should I start on?” I helped him grab his brown trench coat from the side of the door.
“I’ve already laid it out for you.” He nodded to my work station where the canvas was laid out and protected under sheets, waiting for me. “The bigger ones we may have to call in more students. I want to have them cleaned and cataloged as quickly as possible. God only knows if and when that owner might ask for them back or even change his mind.”
“I’ll get as much as humanly possible done today,” I said as he put on his fedora; he was so lame but cute in an old grandpa sort of way. “I might name some of them if they are not already.”
“Oh…” He paused as if he didn’t think about it and grinned from ear to ear. “That might be interesting and will definitely add to the collection when they’re on display. Are you thinking about going with French, Spanish, Dutch, or Italian? I actually had one in mind for that one…”
“Dr. Lovell, your class,” I reminded him when he moved to walk back to the painting. “It’s snowing. The metro might be packed.”
“Right.” He snapped his fingers then frowned once more in confusion. “Wait did you say it’s snowing? I thought it was just a cold front.”
“It must have gotten colder because it started as I came in.”
“What is wrong with the weather lately?” He sighed.