The Adventure of the Purloined Portrait by Liese Sherwood-Fabre

Author:Liese Sherwood-Fabre [Sherwood-Fabre, Liese]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781952408151
Publisher: Little Elm Press LLC

The hired carriage pulled to a stop at the corner of Rossini and Drouot. My breathing stopped for a second when I realized where we were. Here, Gaspard had almost met his death under the wheels of a carriage that wasn’t even supposed to be on the street. As we descended, I couldn’t help but check around to ensure no errant vehicles were on the street that day.

The auction house covered the whole block. The first two floors sported rows of windows, with an arched entrance between every two sets. The upper two floors held fewer windows, and I assumed they housed storage or office space for the seventy auction houses that comprised the Drouot.

“What’s this sudden interest in an art auction?” Father asked as he helped my mother onto the ground.

Mother shrugged. “It was something Marie told us yesterday. How it was a very important venue to purchase art and other items now. I couldn’t help being curious. Besides, according to their catalog, there are a number of objects I think you might find interesting. In a way, it’s almost a museum.”

“Only everything is for sale,” he said with an edge to his tone. “I’m not going to shell out good money unless I’m certain of an object’s worth.”

After we’d shared the deciphered poem from the candlestick, Mother had requested our butler, M Gagne, provide her with the Drouot’s latest gazette listing items to be auctioned with the goal of finding something that would pique my father’s interest in visiting the establishment. While she found no insect collections (a sure draw for my father), there were some drawings by Maria Sibylla Merian, who’d published her illustrations of almost two-hundred insects a hundred years ago. While we probably couldn’t afford any of the engravings or books, we could still visit the displays available until the day of the auction.

Mother had correctly described the enterprise as a sort of museum. The items to be auctioned were on display for all to see, hanging on the walls or displayed in cases behind glass or velvet ropes to keep the curious from handling them. Patrons moved among the exhibits, pausing to examine different objects of interest. Passing through both the people and the items were the black-jacketed red collars Marie had described. Some carried objects—perhaps on their way to auction—others attended patrons who pointed at some item of interest, and still others served as a sort of security patrol, observing all who ambled by.

Father approached one of those standing guard and asked where the Merian drawings were on display. The man pointed down a hallway to an entrance off to one side. When we entered this smaller room, we could see that patrons were less interested in these items than in some of the other lots up for auction. Glass-covered display cases held Merian’s work and one of the red collars—number 253 according to his lapel—stood behind the case, showing one print to an older man with a white beard.

Father slipped in next to the man.

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