Dead Sleep by Greg Iles Read Free Book Online Page A

one?”
    Wingate looks down at the canvas, then at me from the corner of his eye. “Not long.”
    â€œHow long will you have it?”
    â€œIt ships tomorrow. I have a standing bid from Takagi on anything by this artist. One point five million pounds. But I have other plans for this one.”
    He takes hold of the metal frame and motions for me to brace the crate while he pushes the painting back inside. To keep him talking, I help.
    â€œFor a series of about eight paintings,” Wingate says, “he could have been one of the Nabis. But he changed again. The women became more and more real, their bodies less alive, their surroundings more so. Now he paints like one of the old masters. His technique is unbelievable.”
    â€œDo you really not know if they’re alive or dead?”
    â€œGive me a break,” he grunts, straining to apply adequate force without damaging the frame. “They’re models. If some horny Japanese wants to think they’re dead and pay millions for them, that’s great. I’m not complaining.”
    â€œDo you really believe that?”
    He doesn’t look at me. “What I believe doesn’t matter. What matters is what I know for sure, which is nothing.”
    If Wingate doesn’t know the women are real, he’s about to find out. As he straightens up and wipes his brow, I turn squarely to him and take off my sunglasses.
    â€œWhat do you think now?”
    His facial muscles hardly move, but he’s freaked, all right. There’s a lot more white showing in his eyes now. “I think maybe you’re running some kind of scam on me.”
    â€œWhy?”
    â€œBecause I sold a picture of you. You’re one of them. One of the Sleeping Women.”
    He must not have heard about what happened in Hong Kong. Could the curator there have been afraid to risk losing his exhibit?
    â€œNo,” I say softly. “That was my sister.”
    â€œBut the face . . . it was the same.”
    â€œWe’re twins. Identical twins.”
    He shakes his head in amazement.
    â€œYou understand now?”
    â€œI think you know more than I do about all this. Is your sister okay?”
    I can’t tell if he’s sincere or not. “I don’t know. But if I had to guess, I’d say no. She disappeared thirteen months ago. When did you sell the painting of her?”
    â€œMaybe a year ago.”
    â€œTo a Japanese industrialist?”
    â€œSure. Takagi. He outbid everybody.”
    â€œThere were other bidders for that particular painting?”
    â€œSure. Always. But I’m not about to give you their names.”
    â€œLook, I want you to understand something. I don’t give a damn about the police or the law. All I care about is my sister. Anything you know that can help me find her, I’ll pay for.”
    â€œI don’t know anything. Your sister’s been gone a year, and you think she’s still alive?”
    â€œNo. I think she’s dead. I think all the women in these paintings are dead. And so do you. But I can’t move on with my life until I know. I’ve got to find out what happened to my sister. I owe her that.”
    Wingate looks at the crate. “Hey, I can sympathize. But I can’t help you, okay? I really don’t know anything.”
    â€œHow is that possible? You’re the exclusive dealer for this artist.”
    â€œSure. But I’ve never met the guy.”
    â€œBut you know he’s a man?”
    â€œI’m not positive, to tell you the truth. I’ve never seen him. Everything goes through the mail. Notes left in the gallery, money in train station lockers, like that.”
    â€œI don’t see a woman painting these pictures. Do you?”
    Wingate cocks one eyebrow. “I’ve met some pretty strange women in this town. I could tell you some stories, man. You wouldn’t believe what I’ve seen.”
    â€œYou get the paintings