Page 18 of Marble Hall Murders

They had been given their usual table in the corner and had both ordered the fish of the day – red mullet – with pommes frites and salad. There was a chilled Pouilly-Fuissé on the table; the half-empty bottle had been returned to the fridge after Elmer’s last visit. They would have no more than one glass each and perhaps half a glass of red wine with the cheeseboard, which they preferred to dessert.

‘Did you see Dorfman?’ Elmer asked.

‘Yes, Pa. I told you I was going over.’

‘You told me you were going over, but that doesn’t necessarily mean he was there.’

‘Yes, I saw him,’ Robert said, with a visible sigh.

‘Did you talk to him about theView of Louveciennesor theBridge at Saint-Martin?’

Robert hesitated. These were two other paintings by Alfred Sisley that had been in the gallery for some time, but his father hadn’t mentioned them recently. ‘No,’ he replied. ‘Mr Dorfman was very happy withWoman with the Parasoland I didn’t think he was in any mood to talk about anything else.’

‘That’s a pity.’ Elmer had a particular expression when he was unhappy, a sort of petulance that didn’t suit him at all. Back at the gallery, Madame Dubois knew it well. She called it his bad-weather face. ‘Maybe you could see him next week.’

‘Why?’

‘I might be able to offer them to him at a special price. You could tell him we’re having a summer sale.’ He did a mental calculation. ‘Thirty per cent reduction.’

‘Why would you want to do that?’ Robert was genuinely surprised. A thought occurred to him. ‘Did you get them from Mr Werner?’

Werner was Elmer Waysmith’s business partner and the other half of the gallery’s name. He lived in Zurich and these days the two of them seldom saw each other.

‘No. It’s got nothing to do with Werner!’

‘Then why do you want to get rid of the paintings?’

Elmer glowered at his son. ‘I need the cash. I’ve told you – I want to buy those Kleins.’

‘The blue canvases …’

‘That’s not what they’re called, Robert. Give them their proper name.’

‘Thepropositions monochromes.’

‘Exactly. If we move quickly, we could get all eleven of them. It’s the sort of opportunity that never comes twice.’

‘I don’t understand, Pa.’ Robert paused, not wanting to annoy his father. ‘The Sisleys are beautiful. They’re his best work and you’ve always said that when he’s at his best, he’s better than anyone. But Klein! He doesn’t paint anything! They’re just blue squares.’

‘Klein creates colours that have never been seen before.’

‘But they’re only colours! His paintings have no subject.’

‘The coloursarethe subject.’ Elmer threw down his fork and picked up his glass of wine. ‘The trouble with you, Robert, is that you have no understanding of this business. Even if you’re too blind to appreciate the work for yourself, you might ask yourself why Colette Allendy has agreed to exhibit all the works in Paris next October …’

‘In the sixteenth arrondissement. It’s hardly very central.’

‘But she is central to everything that’s happening in modern art right now.’ Elmer emptied his glass in one swallow. ‘It’s no wonder you didn’t succeed as an artist. You have no vision. You’re looking backwards. Believe me, Robert. Impressionism is over. Yes, Sisley will continue to fetch high prices … like Monet and Pissarro and all the rest of them. But if you want to make real profits, you must look to the unknown, and trust me, one day everyone in the world is going to know Yves Klein.’

‘I didn’t succeed as an artist because you stopped me,’ Robert said dully.

‘I did you a favour, son. You didn’t have the talent. You weren’t going to get anywhere. I put you into law school and when that didn’t work out, I brought you into my business. I won’t be running Werner-Waysmith for ever and I’d like to see you at the helm, but maybe it’s time you started pulling your weight. Go and see Dorfman!’

Elmer picked up his knife and fork and continued easing the flesh off the skeleton of his red mullet. Robert sat in silence. He was used to being treated this way. It had happened often enough. But there were also times when he hated his father, when everything in his life – the failure of his career, the death of his mother, the hours wasted in a world that meant nothing to him – came to the boil and he would do anything – anything – to break free.

It was just such a time right now.

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