Death of an Elgin Marble by David Dickinson Read Free Book Online Page A

times perhaps, but still patricians sent down to earth to rule the waves and confound Britannia’s enemies.
    All these meetings with the art dealers and the auctioneers blurred into one after a time. He would be met in the reception area by a pretty girl, straight out of a grand country house in the Home Counties, and taken to the junior gatekeeper. The junior gatekeeper was usually aged between twenty-five and thirty and was already acquiring the superior patina that was the hallmark of the company. From this small but elegant room he would be taken to the senior partner’s office three floors above with splendid views out over Mayfair.
    ‘Lord Powerscourt, what a pleasure! So pleased you felt able to come and see us.’
    The senior partner would then show him into a chair and offer coffee or perhaps a glass of champagne to set them both up for the day.
    ‘Now then, Lord Powerscourt, how can we be of service to you this morning?’
    It was this first opening up of the subject under discussion that Powerscourt found most difficult. He would begin with a display of modesty.
    ‘Thank you so much for agreeing to see me. It’s all rather difficult, actually. You see, I’ve been instructed to act as intermediary between a certain party and an auction house like yourselves about the possible sale of a possible work of art that has yet to come on the market. If you see what I mean. Please forgive the lack of definite information. My instructions are very definite and very limiting, I’m afraid.’
    And at this point he would look rather helpless, as if pleading with the senior partner to extricate him from his difficulties. Lady Lucy always said that her husband was never more dangerous than when he affected this helpless look. About as helpless as a hungry tiger on the rampage, she would say.
    ‘Well, Lord Powerscourt,’ the senior partner would reply, ‘this is certainly going to be an interesting commission! I can quite see that. Perhaps I could try for enlightenment point by point, if I may. You say you are acting as intermediary for a certain party. Could you perhaps fill in some of the details. An ancient family wishing to dispose of some assets? Death duties come to call in their usual disagreeable way? Two deaths of an incumbent in quick succession perhaps? Always difficult, those cases. Always expensive too. A foreign gentleman perchance, wishing to retain his anonymity? The Government in some shape or form? A member of the Royal Family maybe? They have enough art after all to keep us in business till the end of the century!’
    With that, the senior partner usually laughed loudly at his own witticism. Powerscourt would smile.
    ‘I’m afraid I cannot be more precise at this point. Your list of possibilities is certainly comprehensive. Forgive me.’
    ‘Of course, Lord Powerscourt, of course. Could I now ask about the object in question? A possible work of art that has yet to come on the market, you say. That could mean almost anything. Could I assume, for the sake of clarity, that we are talking about a painting or an Old Master drawing or a piece of sculpture, something that would come within the normal compass of activities for a firm like ours?’
    Powerscourt would pause at this point and rub his hands together. ‘I am going beyond my brief here,’ he would announce finally, ‘but you have been more than patient with this difficult enquiry. Yes, I can safely say that the work would fit into the categories you mention. But I dare not say any more. I am in breach of my undertakings already.’
    ‘That is certainly helpful, Lord Powerscourt. Could I ask you this also? Would your client or clients like to sell the object or objects in open auction or would you prefer a private sale, something more discreet.’
    ‘I am not an expert in these matters, Mr Senior Partner. What would your advice be?’
    Now it was the turn of the man from the art dealers to pause. ‘Well,’ he would say, ‘you could probably