Fugitive Colors by Lisa Barr

Author:Lisa Barr
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Arcade Publishing
Published: 2013-01-01T05:00:00+00:00

Chapter Twenty-Three

PARIS

Julian stood waiting for someone to answer the door to the Galerie Rohan-Levi. He glanced down the street at the immaculate row of art galleries lining the rue Jacob, the stylishly dressed pedestrians, the shiny cars. He breathed in deeply, the air an unfamiliar mix of fresh bread and tulips. Paris in the spring was too beautiful, as unreal as Germany. Julian felt disoriented. He did not belong here anymore.

Françoise answered the door, and Julian was shocked by the drastic change in her appearance. Her eyes were puffy, surrounded by dark circles. A shapeless beige frock hung loosely over her thin frame as though in mourning. She knew.

“Come in, Julian.” Her voice was aloof, fearful. “I assume you are alone.” She stuck her head out the door and surveyed the street before allowing him inside then quickly locked the door behind her.

No flirtatious welcome, no Moët this time. Julian followed her up the gallery’s winding staircase in silence, observing each passing floor in disbelief. The vitality seemed to have been sucked out of the gallery. Like Françoise herself, it was depleted—of the Picassos, the Gauguins, and the Braques. The walls were bare, with only faint white rectangular shadows remaining. Only the ornate chandelier seemed to burn as brightly as before. It doesn’t make sense, Julian thought. Why were all the walls stripped of paintings? He wondered if someone had already warned Jacob to take precautions.

Françoise stopped in front of the closed door of Jacob’s office. She did not announce Julian’s arrival but instead scurried away, her legs looking like twigs carried by the wind. Julian turned the doorknob weakly, his hand shaking as he entered the room.

Jacob’s large leather chair faced the wall. Julian waited a few unbearable seconds, staring at the backs of the polished shoes under the desk. They seemed to be the only remaining sign of luxury in the office.

“Mr. Levi, I just—”

Jacob spun around. His once smooth complexion had a pale gray veneer. He looked tired, but was still handsomely groomed, and not at all surprised to see Julian. “My son first, Julian. Everything else can wait.”

Julian exhaled deeply. He didn’t know where to begin. It was all too much. “I believe he is alive.”

Jacob shook his head, as if it caused him pain. “They say he murdered Ernst Engel.”

Julian leaned across the leather-padded desk. “They lie.”

“Of course, they’re lying. I just don’t know why. I told him not to go there. I warned you boys. Damn it, Julian, why didn’t you listen to me?” Jacob stood, pounding his fists against the desk.

“There is no time,” Julian whispered anxiously, nodding toward the window. “Felix’s people. He is orchestrating the whole thing. They want you to come to Germany.”

“Are you out of your mind!”

Julian’s voice trembled. “They want to use your expertise to select paintings for an exhibition they are planning.”

“Don’t insult me.” Jacob eyed Julian contemptuously. “You work for them, don’t you? You, a Jew, it’s a disgrace.”

“I would rather die than work for them.” Julian gritted his teeth to hold back his emotion.

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