Strange Images of Death by Barbara Cleverly Read Free Book Online Page A

of a whip-cracker, Commander.’ She waved a hand at the far end of the hall. ‘Do you see the wall down there is doing service as a gallery?’
    Joe noted that the tapestries and wall sconces had given way to three ranks of canvases, taking up the whole surface. Several more had been stacked against it.
    ‘That’s the week’s output. Our patron has an eye to the main chance as well as an eye for a good painting. He’s a collector and a connoisseur. And very well regarded in art circles. He has the critics in his pocket.’
    ‘And his pockets are deep ones?’
    ‘You bet! Nothing known for sure but I’d expect he knows exactly how to oil the wheels and grease the palms. The art-smart journalists and opinion-makers echo his views, kowtow to his prejudices, support his enthusiasms. He sets the fashion, having bought extensively into it, then he sells at vast profit to New York or London. He’s made a fortune from his dealings.’
    Joe looked around him. ‘And these are his protégés?’
    ‘His breeding ground. His worker bees. You identify your talent, establish it in stimulating surroundings, satisfy all daily needs and you’re in business.’
    ‘You’re very acerbic?’
    ‘My sharp tongue! It keeps getting me the sack! But judge for yourself—our seigneur got rid of three painters he decided weren’t worthy of support in the first week.’
    ‘ Pour encourager les autres? ’ Joe asked lightly.
    She smiled. ‘No. Because they failed to please. I told you—he knows his stuff. Right decision. He had a blazing row with a Cubist painter whose name—if I were indiscreet enough to mention it—you would certainly know.’ Estelle affected a grumpy man’s baritone: ‘“Looking at this stuff is like looking down a cracked kaleidoscope filled with rusty nails … undigested scraps of flesh … the dismembered leftovers of a crazed axe-man …” were some of the lord’s polite descriptions of our artist’s latest offerings.’
    ‘Ouch! Poor chap!’ said Joe.
    ‘Save your sympathy! We all know that this particular artist—who does have a genuine talent, as far as I can judge— agrees with that view in private. After a second bottle, he’s been heard to ask—in genuine mystification—how on earth the public can be taken in so easily by his artistic pretensions. But in an open exchange of views with the boss, he felt he had to stand up for himself and his art and he did. He’s famously persuasive. And—he ended up by selling a dozen or so examples of his “dog’s vomit” to our host, after prolonged haggling, before he flounced off in a well-timed huff.’ She smiled in satisfaction.
    ‘Followed by the cheers of the crowd?’
    ‘Oh, ra ther ! We’re a mixed bunch but you’ll find there’s a certain group loyalty. We admire anyone spirited enough to put one over on the powers that be. When you think that those pictures are probably being snatched from the walls of a posh Parisian saleroom as we speak! For twenty times what the artist received! It’s a hard equation to work out and one’s never perfectly certain on which side one stands …’
    ‘But when x equals rather a lot of cash …?’
    She grinned. ‘That’s right, Commander! Always keep your eye on the x ! It’s a new concept for many artists but they’re learning.’
    ‘I’m sad to hear you say so,’ said Joe. ‘I had hoped to fetch up in the company of high-minded creators of beauty … incorruptible visionaries …’
    Estelle gave him a hard look and sighed. ‘Another one of those who thinks you paint more effectively on an empty stomach? What nonsense! Would you detect more efficiently if they starved you for a week? Well, then!’
    ‘And the steward?’ Joe pressed on with his enquiries. ‘Which one is he?’
    ‘Go on—guess. You’re the detective.’
    Joe thought he had already spotted the man in charge. Sartorially, he was indistinguishable from the rest of the gathering in his casually tailored beige linen suit