Page 91 of Portrait of an Unknown Woman

“Which is why Toussaint fought so hard to keep Lucien when the front woman from a rival forgery network tried to steal him away.”

Durand smiled at Gabriel over the rim of his champagne glass. “You’re getting rather good at this, Monsieur Allon. Soon you will no longer require my help.”

“Who is she, Maurice?”

“Miranda Álvarez? That depends on whom you ask. Apparently, she’s something of a chameleon. They say she lives in a remote village in the Pyrenees. They also say that she and the forger are lovers or perhaps even husband and wife. But this is only a rumor.”

“Who arethey?”

“People who toil in the dirty end of the art trade.”

“People like you, you mean?”

Durand was silent.

“Is the forger Spanish, too?”

“That is the assumption. But, again, this is only speculation. Unlike some forgers who crave notoriety, this man is very serious about his privacy. The woman is said to be one of only two people who know his identity.”

“And the other?”

“The man who runs the business side of the network. Think of them as an unholy trinity.”

“What’s the Spanish woman’s role?”

“She oversees the delivery of the paintings to the galleries where they are sold. Most are midmarket pieces that quietly generateenormous amounts of cash. But every few months, another so-called lost master magically reappears.”

“How many galleries are there?”

“I couldn’t say.”

“Try.”

“One hears rumors about a gallery in Berlin and another in Brussels. One also hears rumors of a recent expansion into Asia and the Middle East.”

“One wonders,” said Gabriel pointedly, “why you didn’t disclose any of this information during our last conversation.”

“Perhaps if you had told me that you intended to purchase a painting from Galerie Fleury, I might have been more forthcoming.” Durand smiled. “A River Scene with Distant Windmills. Definitelynotby the Dutch Golden Age painter Aelbert Cuyp.”

“How do you know about the sale?”

“Fleury was discreet in some matters, less so in others. He boasted of the sale to several of his competitors, despite the fact that he allowed Madame Rolfe’s art adviser to remove the painting from France without an export license.”

“He had no suspicions about me?”

“Apparently not.”

“Then why was I targeted for assassination when I returned to the gallery four days later?”

“Perhaps you should ask the man who delivered the bomb.”

Gabriel handed the Frenchman his phone a second time. “Do you recognize him?”

“Fortunately, no.”

“I believe he murdered a woman in Bordeaux not long ago.”

“The Bérrangar woman?”