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Luckily, Colum started talking before she had to start manhandling him.

“This painting has been a part of the archive since shortly after Oscar’s death.To be honest, there’s no record of how this and several other boxes of his things came to be here.”

“You have several boxes of Oscar Wilde’s things?”Xavier leaned forward, the intensity amping up until he looked almost predatory.The fact he was this animated about a long-dead poet and playwright reinforced her initial assessment of him as some dramatic, tragic scholar.

“Give them to me,” Xavier added.

Colum’s head snapped up, his eyes narrowing.“No.They belong to the archive.”

“Then let me see them.”

“Maybe.”Colum shrugged.

“Yes,” Xavier insisted.

Colum tipped his head, as if considering.“No.”

Xavier’s hopeful expression collapsed.Annie bit her lips to hide her smile at Colum’s utter indifference to Xavier’s intense demands.

“They’re not useful to us,” Colum added.“I checked.”

“But this painting is useful?”Annie needed to guide this conversation if there was any hope of getting information.

Colum ran his hand through his hair.“Can I just talk?”

Annie nodded, sensing Colum’s frustration.“Of course.Why don’t we all sit down again?”

They returned to their seats.Xavier opened his mouth, clearly ready to start asking more questions, but Annie shook her head, cutting him off.They glared at one another for a moment, before she slapped on a sunny smile and said, “Colum’s going to tell us what’s going on and we’re going to save our questions until the end.”

Xavier grumbled something under his breath in French, but she ignored him, turning her attention to Colum.

“Go on,” she urged politely, giving him an encouraging smile.

“Back a spell, I was doing an inventory of the archive’s contents.I pulled out this painting, and the balance of it was banjaxed.Couldn’t hang it on a wall, it went lopsided.I took it apart?—”

Annie hid a wince, though she’d seen plenty of paintings taken apart so the edges could be photographed and the canvas re-stretched.

“—and there was a bundle of papers between the canvas and the backing.”Colum held up the papers he’d carried over from the table.

“What is it?”Xavier asked.

Annie shot him a “shut up” look, but Colum was already answering the question.“It’s part of a previously unreleased manuscript by Oscar Wilde.”

Xavier’s eyes went wide, and he jumped to his feet, hand outstretched.“Let me see it.”

Colum clasped the papers to his chest, leaning back against the cushion.

Annie stood, stepping between the men.“If you keep interrupting, we’ll never get anywhere.”

“But—”

“No buts,” she said, steel in her voice.

Xavier shot her a surprised look, that one dark brow arching up.Then he sank back down, leaning to one side to watch Colum.

“It’s not like Oscar’s other work,” Colum continued, once Annie had resumed her seat.“It’s more of a journal.Actually, a tell-all about the Masters’ Admiralty.”

This time, it was Annie who broke the rule about holding questions until the end.“Wait, was Oscar Wilde a member of the Masters’ Admiralty?”