âBut thereâs another mystery here, which is now giving me doubts as to the paintingâs authenticity.â
This time Verlaque, Paulik, and Marine all blurted out, âWhat?â
âItâs just that Cézanne rarely painted women,â Anatole Bonnet said. âEspecially young, pretty women. I can think of a portrait of a very old womanâshe was probably a maid at the rue Boulegonâand the Mme Cézanne portraits, of course. And then maybe one or two others. But thatâs it. It would have been very out of character for Cézanne to do a painting such as this one. Heâs smitten.â
Chapter Nine
I Should Like to
Astonish Paris with an Apple
B runo Paulik tore his brioche in two and took a bite. âYou know what I donât understand?â he asked, still chewing. âWhy are art experts always so intent on attaching dates and styles to a painting? âThis is his late style,â or, âThis is the blue periodââthat kind of thing. How do they know? What if Cézanne just felt like slathering on the paint that day in 1885? It was a Tuesday, a sunny April day, and he
felt like
trying something new? What if, for once, he was in a jolly mood and just
felt like
having the sitter smile and laugh?â
âOr the sitter was so comfortable with him that she laughed naturally?â Verlaque said, looking over at the red-haired woman.
Paulik dipped a corner of his brioche into his coffee and Verlaque tried not to wince. Verlaque said, âBut I thinkâalthough I get what youâre sayingâthat an artist as serious as Cézanne didnât change his style on an April morning justfor the fun of it. It was too risky; it took him so long to get there. Remember all those salon refusals, the bad reviews, the mockingâeven in Aix?â
âEspecially here in Aix.â
âRight,â Verlaque said, sipping his coffee.
Paulik chewed. âYeah, I get it. I guess he wouldnât have had the interest, or the time, to start fooling around with another technique.â
âBy 1885 he had finally found his gift. He wouldnât take that lightly. Butââ
âWho knows?â
âRightââ
âHe was human,â Paulik said, holding his arms out. âWe change from day to day. We get giddy, or weâre in a bad mood.â
âYes.â Verlaque put his cup down and stared over at the painting.
Their musings were interrupted by a knock on the door. âCome in,â Verlaque said.
Jules Schoelcher, a young policeman originally from Alsace, walked in and greeted his superiors with a stiff but sincere âGood afternoon.â Seeing Paulikâs half-eaten brioche, he added, âBon appétit, sir.â
â
Câest mon goûter
,â Paulik replied. âItâs five p.m., afternoon snack time all over the world.â
âAny news on the Boulegon case?â Verlaque asked.
âThe fingerprints weâve found in the apartment are René Rouquetâs, and a few of Dr. Schultzâs. No others,â Jules said.
âSo the man she saw was wearing gloves,â Verlaque said.
âOr she was lying,â Paulik suggested.
âAnd I got ahold of Edmund Lydgate,â Schoelcher said.
âThe retired auctioneer?â Verlaque asked.
âYes,â Schoelcher replied. âRené Rouquet did call him, but Lydgate claims he could hardly make sense of what Rouquet was saying. They hung up not having managed to make a rendezvous. Officer Flamant checked Lydgateâs alibi; an old farmer named Elzéard Bois lives on the main road says he spoke with Lydgate Friday night. Besides, Lydgate told me he canât drive; he had his license suspended for impaired driving.â
âSomeone else could have driven him,â Verlaque suggested. âBut it seems unlikely that a retired auctioneer from a prestigious auction house would get caught up in this.
SJD Peterson, S.A. McAuley
K. P. Hilton
Anita Amirrezvani
Scarlet Hyacinth
Charlotte Anne
Mary Alice Monroe
Philip K. Dick
Sydney Logan
J.B. Garner
Jeffrey Shapiro