Money from Holme by Michael Innes

Author:Michael Innes
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Money From Holme
ISBN: 9780755121045
Publisher: House of Stratus
Published: 2012-05-18T04:00:00+00:00

16

It was in a mood of tolerable satisfaction that Mervyn Cheel presently left the Da Vinci Gallery. Braunkopf’s terms were, of course, outrageous; Cheel felt that he would never again listen to the words ‘fifty-fifty’ – or even ‘half-and-half’ – without wincing. Nevertheless there were mitigating considerations. The more Braunkopf stood to gain, the likelier he was to proceed vigorously with the project. Being merely a vulgar commercial man, he would instinctively balance hazards against profits. The larger the possible profit, the less timorous would the proprietor of the Da Vinci be.

Moreover, Cheel reflected, he himself secured a considerably greater margin of safety by working through Braunkopf. The fellow knew all the tricks and channels of the trade, and it was unlikely that he would be badly caught out. Not indeed, that there was anything illegal, anything that could land you positively in the dock, about the whole affair. The only acts of forgery involved were Sebastian Holme’s upon his brother’s cheques. The pictures to be sold as by Holme were by Holme. It was true that the Director of Public Prosecutions, if through any conceivable misfortune apprised of all the facts, would turn over in his head such terms as False Pretences, Conspiracy, and Fraud. But bringing any such charge would be a tricky business about which that disagreeable personage might well think twice.

And there was another satisfactory consideration as well. A larger share for Braunkopf didn’t have to mean a smaller share for Cheel. It need only mean a decidedly smaller share for Holme. This was a matter to which Cheel had already given careful thought. And the more he considered it, the less did it seem to him that Holme need receive any appreciable share at all.

Of course the man must have his keep. It would be injudicious to scant him of reasonably nutritious food. There was no reason why he should not command a regular supply of beer – and even perhaps an occasional bottle of gin. But what more did he need? For that matter, what more had he shown any disposition to ask for? Putting this question to himself as he climbed into the Rolls, Cheel positively felt within himself a gush of warm affection for Holme. For weeks now the man had shown no flicker of interest in anything but standing in that attic and painting all day. The passion with which he had addressed himself to calling back into being ‘Mourning Dance with Torches’ and ‘Fishing Cats at Pool’ was exceeded only by the indifference with which he had then appeared to regard them. It might have been supposed that, convinced as he was that he could paint only as Sebastian Holme and to further the fame of Sebastian Holme, he would at least have wished to hear that these paintings were going where they would be seen and admired by properly informed people. Yet nothing of the sort had seemed to be in his head. As soon as each was finished he had simply tumbled into bed and slept for twenty-four hours.

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