Part 20 (1/2)

Yes, but what about this: 'The forger covered his trail so well that Scotland Yard believe he must have had the help of an experienced criminal. I reckon Im the brilliant forger and youre the experienced criminal.”

Mitch put the newspaper down and blew on his coffee to cool it. It just shows how easily it can be done-which is what we set out to prove.

Heres a good bit: 'The forgers masterstroke was to provide each painting with a provenance-which is the art worlds equivalent of a pedigree, and is normally thought to guarantee the authenticity of a work. The provenances were on the official paper of Meuniers, the Paris artists agents, and had the companys stamp. Both paper and stamp must have been stolen. I like that-the masterstroke. Peter folded his paper and threw it across the room.

Mitch reached out for Annes guitar and began to play a simple blues tune. Peter said: I hope Arnaz is laughing-he paid for the joke.

I dont think he really believed we could pull it off.

Nor did I, Peter laughed.

Mitch put the guitar down suddenly, causing the soundbox to boom. We havent done the most important bit yet. Lets get on with it.

Peter swallowed the rest of his coffee and got up. The two put on their jackets, called goodbye to Anne, and went out.

They walked along the street and squeezed into the telephone booth on the comer.

Somethings worrying me, said Peter as he picked up the phone.

That bit about Scotland Yard?

”Right.”

”It's bothering me, too, said Mitch. They might be all set to trace our call to the newspaper. They could get down here to the kiosk, throw a cordon around the area, and question everyone until they found someone connected with art.

So what do we do?

”Let's just phone another newspaper. They'll all know about the story by now.

”Okay.” Peter lifted the directory from the rack and looked under D for Daily.

Which one? he said.

Mitch closed his eyes and stuck a finger on the page. Peter dialed the number, and asked to speak to a reporter.

When he got through he asked: ”Do you take shorthand?

The voice replied testily: Of course.

”Then take. I am Renalle, the master forger, and I am about to tell you why I did it. I wanted to prove that the London art scene, in its concentration on masterpieces and dead painters, is phony. The best ten dealers in London cannot tell a forgery when they see one. They are motivated by greed and sn.o.bbery, rather than love of art. Because of them the money going into art is diverted away from the artists themselves, who really need it.

”Slow down, the reporter protested.

Peter ignored him. I am now offering the dealers their money back, minus my expenses which come to about one thousand pounds. The conditon is that they set aside one-tenth of the cash-that will be about fifty thousand pounds-to provide a building in Central London where young, unknown artists can rent studios at low prices. The dealers must get together, and set up a trust fund to buy and manage the building. The other condition is that all police inquiries are dropped. I will look for their reply to my offer in the columns of your newspaper.

The reporter said quickly: Are you a young painter yourself?”

Peter put the phone down.

Mitch said: You forgot the French accent.

Oh, f.u.c.k, Peter swore. They left the phone booth.

As they walked back to the house, Mitch said: What the h.e.l.l, I dont suppose it makes any difference. Now they know it was not a French job. That narrows their field to the whole of the UK. So what?

Peter bit his lip. It shows were getting slack, thats what. We had better be careful not to count our chickens before theyve paid up.

Hatched.

f.u.c.k proverbs.

Anne was in the front garden, playing with Vibeke in the suns.h.i.+ne, when they got back.

The sun is s.h.i.+ning-let's go out, she said.

Peter looked at Mitch. Why not?

A deep American voice came from the sidewalk outside. How are the happy forgers?

Peter whitened and turned around. He relaxed when he saw the stocky figure and white teeth of Arnaz. The man had a parcel under his arm.

You scared me, Peter said.

Still smiling, Arnaz opened the rotting wooden gate and walked in. Peter said: Come on inside.

The three men went up to the studio. When they had sat down Arnaz waved a copy of the newspaper. I congratulate you two, he said. I couldnt have done a better job myself. I laughed my a.s.s off in bed this morning.

Mitch got up and pretended to stare at Arnazs behind. How did you get it back on again?

Peter laughed. Mitch, dont get manic again.

Amaz went on: It was a brilliant operation. And the forgeries were good. I happened to see the van Gogh in Claypoles last week. I almost bought it.

I suppose its safe for you to come here, Peter said thoughtfully.

I think so. Besides, its necessary if Im to make a profit on this deal.

Mitchs voice was hostile. I thought you were in this for the laughs.

”That too. Arnaz smiled again. ”But mainly, I wanted to see just how good the two of you were.

What the h.e.l.l are you getting at, Arnaz? Peter was becoming uneasy now.

”Like I said, I want to see a profit on my investment. So I want you to do one more forgery each. For me.

No deal, Arnaz,” said Peter. We did this to make a point, not to make money. Were on the verge of getting away with it. No more forgeries.

Mitch said quietly: I dont think we're going to have any choice.