ss.iftomorrowcomes-第59部分

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om　this　museum。　Our　security　is　what　you　call　proof　from　fools。〃
　
　Cooper　stood　there　shaking　with　frustration。　Everything　the　director　said　was　convincing。　It　did　seem　impossible。　But　then　why　had　Tracy　Whitney　deliberately　spilled　those　paints？
　
　Cooper　would　not　give　up。　〃Humor　me。　Would　you　ask　your　staff　to　go　through　the　museum　and　check　to　make　sure　nothing　is　missing？　I'll　be　at　my　hotel。〃
　
　There　was　nothing　more　Daniel　Cooper　could　do。
　
　At　7：00　that　evening　Christian　Machada　telephoned　Cooper。　〃I　have　personally　made　an　inspection；　se？or。　Every　painting　is　in　its　proper　place。　Nothing　is　missing　from　the　museum。〃
　
　So　that　was　that。　Seemingly；　it　had　been　an　accident。　But　Daniel　Cooper；　with　the　instincts　of　a　hunter；　sensed　that　his　quarry　had　escaped。
　
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　Jeff　had　invited　Tracy　to　dinner　in　the　main　dining　room　of　the　Ritz　Hotel。
　
　〃You're　looking　especially　radiant　this　evening；〃　Jeff　plimented　her。
　
　〃Thank　you。　I　feel　absolutely　wonderful。〃
　
　〃It's　the　pany。　e　with　me　to　Barcelona　next　week；　Tracy。　It's　a　fascinating　city。　You'd　love…〃
　
　〃I'm　sorry；　Jeff。　I　can't。　I'm　leaving　Spain。〃
　
　〃Really？〃　His　voice　was　filled　with　regret。　〃When？〃
　
　〃In　a　few　days。〃
　
　〃Ah。　I'm　disappointed。〃
　
　You're　going　to　be　more　disappointed；　Tracy　thought；　when　you　learn　I've　stolen　the　Puerto。　She　wondered　how　he　had　planned　to　steal　the　painting。　Not　that　it　mattered　any　longer。　I've　outwitted　clever　Jeff　Stevens。　Yet；　for　some　inexplicable　reason　Tracy　felt　a　faint　trace　of　regret。
　
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　Christian　Machada　was　seated　in　his　office　enjoying　his　morning　cup　of　strong　black　coffee　and　congratulating　himself　on　what　a　success　the　prince's　visit　had　been。　Except　for　the　regrettable　incident　of　the　spilled　paints；　everything　had　gone　off　precisely　as　planned。　He　was　grateful　that　the　prince　and　his　retinue　had　been　diverted　until　the　mess　could　be　cleaned　up。　The　director　smiled　when　he　thought　about　the　idiot　American　investigator　who　had　tried　to　convince　him　that　someone　had　stolen　a　painting　from　the　Prado。　Not　yesterday；　not　today；　not　tomorrow；　he　thought　smugly。
　
　His　secretary　walked　into　the　office。　〃Excuse　me；　sir。　There　is　a　gentleman　to　see　you。　He　asked　me　to　give　you　this。〃
　
　She　handed　the　director　a　letter。　It　was　on　the　letterhead　of　the　Kunsthaus　Museum　in　Zurich：
　
　My　Esteemed　Colleague：
　
　This　letter　will　serve　to　introduce　Monsieur　Henri　Rendell；　our　senior　art　expert。　Monsieur　Rendell　is　making　a　tour　of　world　museums　and　is　particularly　eager　to　see　your　inparable　collection。　I　would　greatly　appreciate　any　courtesies　you　extend　him。
　
　The　letter　was　signed　by　the　curator　of　the　museum。
　
　Sooner　or　later；　the　director　thought　happily；　everyone　es　to　me。
　
　〃Send　him　in。〃
　
　Henri　Rendell　was　a　tall；　distinguished…looking；　balding　man　with　a　heavy　Swiss　accent。　When　they　shook　hands；　Machada　noticed　that　the　index　finger　on　the　right　hand　of　his　visitor　was　missing。
　
　Henri　Rendell　said；　〃I　appreciate　this。　It　is　the　first　opportunity　I　have　had　to　visit　Madrid；　and　I　am　looking　forward　to　seeing　your　renowned　works　of　art。〃
　
　Christian　Machada　said　modestly；　〃I　do　not　think　you　will　be　disappointed；　Monsieur　Rendell。　Please　e　with　me。　I　shall　personally　escort　you。〃
　
　They　moved　slowly；　walking　through　the　rotunda　with　its　Flemish　masters；　and　Rubens　and　his　followers；　and　they　visited　the　central　gallery；　filled　with　Spanish　masters；　and　Henri　Rendell　studied　each　painting　carefully。　The　two　men　spoke　as　one　expert　to　another；　evaluating　the　various　artists'　style　and　perspective　and　color　sense。
　
　〃Now；〃　the　director　declared；　〃for　the　pride　of　Spain。〃　He　led　his　visitor　downstairs；　into　the　gallery　filled　with　Goyas。
　
　〃It　is　a　feast　for　the　eyes！〃　Rendell　exclaimed；　overwhelmed。　〃Please！　Let　me　just　stand　and　look。〃
　
　Christian　Machada　waited；　enjoying　the　man's　awe。
　
　〃Never　have　I　seen　anything　so　magnificent；〃　Rendell　declared。　He　walked　slowly　through　the　salon；　studying　each　painting　in　turn。　〃The　Witches'　Sabbath；〃　Rendell　said。　〃Brilliant！〃
　
　They　moved　on。
　
　〃Goya's　Self…Portrait…　fantastic！〃
　
　Christian　Machada　beamed。
　
　Rendell　paused　in　front　of　the　Puerto。　〃A　nice　fake。〃　He　started　to　move　on。
　
　The　director　grabbed　his　arm。　〃What？　What　was　it　you　said；　se？or？〃
　
　〃I　said　it　is　a　nice　fake。〃
　
　〃You　are　very　much　mistaken。〃　He　was　filled　with　indignation。
　
　〃I　do　not　think　so。〃
　
　〃You　most　certainly　are；〃　Machada　said　stiffly。　〃I　assure　you；　it　is　genuine。　I　have　its　provenance。〃
　
　Henri　Rendell　stepped　up　to　the　picture　and　examined　it　more　closely。　〃Then　its　provenance　has　also　been　faked。　This　was　done　by　Goya's　disciple；　Eugenio　Lucas　y　Padilla。　You　must　be　aware；　of　course；　that　Lucas　painted　hundreds　of　fake　Goyas。〃
　
　〃Certainly　I　am　aware　of　that；〃　Machada　snapped。　〃But　this　is　not　one　of　them。〃
　
　Rendell　shrugged。　〃I　bow　to　your　judgment。〃　He　started　to　move　on。
　
　〃I　personally　purchased　this　painting。　It　has　passed　the　spectrograph　test；　the　pigment　test…〃
　
　〃I　do　not　doubt　it。　Lucas　painted　in　the　same　period　as　Goya；　and　used　the　same　materials。〃　Henri　Rendell　bent　down　to　examine　the　signature　at　the　bottom　of　the　painting。　〃You　can　reassure　yourself　very　simply；　if　you　wish。　Take　the　painting　back　to　your　restoration　room　and　test　the　signature。〃　He　chuckled　with　amusement。　〃Lucas's　ego　made　him　sign　his　own　paintings；　but　his　pocketbook　forced　him　to　forge　Goya's　name　over　his　own；　increasing　the　price　enormously。〃　Rendell　glanced　at　his　watch。　〃You　must　forgive　me。　I'm　afraid　I　am　late　for　an　engagement。　Thank　you　so　much　for　sharing　your　treasures　with　me。〃
　
　〃Not　at　all；〃　the　director　said　coldly。　The　man　is　obviously　a　fool；　he　thought。
　
　〃I　am　at　the　Villa　Magna；　if　I　can　be　of　service。　And　thank　you　again；　se？or。〃　Henri　Rendell　departed。
　
　Christian　Machada　watched　him　leave。　How　dare　that　Swiss　idiot　imply　that　the　precious　Goya　was　a　fake！
　
　He　turned　to　look　at　the　painting　again。　It　was　beautiful；　a　masterpiece。　He　leaned　down　to　examine　Goya's　signature。　Perfectly　normal。　But　still；　was　it　possible？　The　tiny　seed　of　doubt　would　not　go　away。　Everyone　knew　that　Goya's　contemporary；　Eugenio　Lucas　y　Padilla；　had　painted　hundreds　of　fake　Goyas；　making　a　career　out　of　forging　the　master。　Machada　had　paid　3。5　million　for　the　Goya　Puerto。　If　he　had　been　deceived；　it　would　be　a　terrible　black　mark　against　him；　something　he　could　not　bear　to　think　about。
　
　Henri　Rendell　had　said　one　thing　that　made　sense：　There　was；　indeed；　a　simple　way　to　ascertain　its　authenticity。　He　would　test　the　signature　and　then　telephone　Rendell　and　suggest　most　politely　that　perhaps　he　should　seek　a　more　suitable　vocation。
　
　The　director　summoned　his　assistant　and　ordered　the　Puerto　moved　to　the　restoration　room。
　
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　The　testing　of　a　masterpiece　is　a　very　delicate　operation；　for　if　it　is　done　carelessly；　it　can　destroy　something　both　priceless　and　irreplaceable。　The　restorers　at　the　Prado　were　experts。　Most　of　them　were　unsuccessful　painters　who　had　taken　up　restoration　work　so　they　could　remain　close　to　their　beloved　art。　They　started　as　apprentices；　studying　under　master　restorers；　and　worked　for　years　before　they　became　assistants　and　were　allowed　to　handle　masterpieces；　always　under　the　supervision　of　senior　craftsmen。
　
　Juan　Delgado；　the　man　in　charge　of　art　restoration　at　the　Prado；　placed　the　Puerto　on　a　special　wooden　rack；　as　Christian　Machada　watched。
　
　〃I　want　you　to　test　the　signature；〃　the　director　informed　him。
　
　Delgado　kept　his　surprise　to　himself。　〃Sí；　Senor　Director。〃
　
　He　poured　isopropyl　alcohol　onto　a　small　cotton　ball　and　set　it　on　the　table　next　to　the　painting。　On　a　second　cotton　ball　he　poured　petroleum　distillate；　the　neutralizing　agent。
　
　〃I　am　ready；　se？or。〃
　
　〃Go　ahead　then。　But　be　careful！〃
　
　Machada　found　that　it　was　suddenly　difficult　for　him　to　breathe。　He　watched　Delgado。　lift　the　first　cotton　ball　and　gently　touch　it　to　the　G　in　Goya's　signature。　Instantly；　Delgado　picked　up　the　second　cotton　ball　and　neutralized　the　area；　so　that　the　alcohol　could　not　penetrate　too　deeply。　The　two　men　examined　the　canvas。
　
　Delgado　was　frowning。　〃I'm　sorry；　but　I　cannot　tell　yet；〃　he　said。　〃I　must　use　a　stronger　solvent。〃
　
　〃Do　it；〃　the　director　manded。
　
　Delgado　opened　another　bottle。　He　carefully　poured　dimenthyl　petone　onto　a　fresh　cotton　ball　and　with　it　touched　the　first　letter　of　the　signature　again；　instantly　applying　the　second　cotton　ball。　The　room　was　filled　with　a　sharp；　pungent　odor　from　the　chemicals。　Christian　Machada　stood　there　staring　at　the　painting；　unable　to　believe　what　he　was　seeing。　The　G　in　Goya's　name　was　fading；　and　in　its　place　was　a　clearly　visible　L。
　
　Delgado　turned　to　him；　his　face　pale。　〃Shall…　shall　I　go　on？〃
　
　〃Yes；〃　Machada　said　hoarsely。　〃Go　on。〃
　
　Slowly；　letter　by　letter；　Goya's　signature　faded　under　the　application　of　the　solvent；　and　the　signature　of　Lucas　materialized。　Each　letter　was　a　blow　to　Machada's　stomach。　He；　the　head　of　one　of　the　most　important　museums　in　the　world；　had　been　deceived。　The　board　of　directors　would　hear　of　it；　the　King　of　Spain　would　hear　of　it；　the　world　would　hear　of　it。　He　was　ruined。
　
　He　stumbled　back　to　his　office　and　telephoned　Henri　Rendell。
　
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　The　two　men　were　seated　in　Machada's　office。
　
　〃You　were　right；〃　the　director　said　heavily。　〃It　is　a　Lucas。　When　word　of　this　gets　out；　I　shall　be　a　laughing　stock。〃
　
　〃Lucas　has　deceived　many　experts；〃　Rendell　said　fortingly。　〃His　forgeries　happen　to　be　a　hobby　of　mine。〃
　
　〃I　paid　three　and　a　half　million　dollars　for　that　painting。〃
　
　Rendell　shrugged。　〃Can　you　get　your　money　back？〃
　
　The　director　shook　his　head　in　despair。　〃I　purchased　it　directly　from　a　widow　who　claimed　it　had　been　in　her　husband's　family　for　three　generations。　If　I　sued　her；　the　case　would　drag　on　through　the　courts　and　it　would　be　bad　publicity。　Everything　in　this　museum　would　bee　suspect。〃
　
　Henri　Rendell