The Hogarth Conspiracy by Alex Connor Read Free Book Online Page A

house, under another housemaster, and you said, ‘You’ll be lonely,’ when you really meant you would be.” He paused, remembering the past, then asked, “How’s Mother?”
    â€œFine.”
    â€œDoes she know I’m out?”
    â€œShe hasn’t been well….”
    â€œI see. So she doesn’t know.”
    â€œI thought I’d tell her when she’s feeling a bit better.”
    â€œAnd pray for a relapse?” Victor asked, his tone light but with an edge underneath.
    From the day he had been sentenced, the widowed Celeste Ballam had disowned her second son. Ignoring his existence was preferable to lying or trying to concoct a parallel universe where Victor was still trading as a London art dealer in Dover Street. He was always her favorite child, but the professional scandal that had turned him from a glittering scion of the Ballam clan to a thief with a criminal record had buckled her. To Victor she had entrusted the status of the family. From Victor she had expected an impressive career and an enviable marriage.
    Celeste had possessed the maternal smugness that came from having an exceptional child, and so when Victor’s fall came, it torpedoed her future and capsized her status absolutely. But that was not all. Her son the thief had done something even worse: his crime had forced Celeste into having to idolize Christian, the second choice.
    â€œIf you go back to London now, what will you do, Victor?”
    â€œWork.”
    Christian didn’t really want his brother close by, was afraid that Ingola might still have feelings for him, but at the same time he was trying to be supportive. He had been the winner, after all. He could afford to be magnanimous.
    â€œWork? Where?”
    â€œNot at the gallery; I know that’s out of bounds.” Victor opened the brown paper package and rummaged through the few possessions in it. “Don’t worry about me, I’ll survive.”
    â€œI was thinking…. I spoke to a friend of mine. He could get you a job in Chipping Campden.”
    â€œAs an art dealer?”
    â€œWell, not really. He has a restaurant.”
    â€œYou want me to be a waiter?”
    â€œIt’s a start.”
    â€œOf what? Penury?”
    Christian sighed, slowing down to the thirty-mile-an-hour speed limit. “You might find it hard to get a job now. What with your having a record …”
    â€œWell, I’m glad you pointed that out, because I’d never have thought of it.”
    â€œI’m just trying to help,” Christian responded in an injured tone.
    â€œBy expecting me to be a fucking waiter?” Victor countered, then cooled his tone, ashamed. “I’m not running away from London, Christian. If I don’t go back, I’ll look guilty.”
    â€œYou’re not thinking …”
    â€œOf what?”
    Christian took a deep breath. “Of trying to find out who framed you, are you?”
    â€œFor over three years I’ve thought about nothing else. Every day and every night I’ve gone over everything that happened.”
    â€œD’you know who did it?”
    â€œOh, yes,” Victor replied evenly.
    â€œYou do?”
    â€œI did it to myself.”
    â€œWhat d’you mean? You weren’t guilty!”
    â€œI was guilty of speaking out. Guilty of going on record about the forgeries, the fixed auctions, the rigged sales. I named names and courted the press to further my own fucking bandwagon. I thought people wanted to know the truth, and I thought I could get away with telling it. I mean, I was right , wasn’t I?”
    â€œVictor—”
    But Victor carried on. “Being right’s not enough, though. I suppose they built up their case for years. In the end it wasn’t one person after me; it was a whole coterie of dealers, all of them more established and a bloody sight more ruthless than I was.”
    â€œThey framed you for