Page 77 of All I Want for Christmas

‘Darcy’s discovery today means the hidden portrait is now of great interest to us, as a separate acquisition of course – it is a Johan Trier and the subject, we are now given to believe, is a Madsen family member. If we must proceed under the assumption that the portrait cannot be successfully extricated fromChildren, then we will argue in court that thesetwopaintings should come back into the Madsen Foundation fold.’

‘Back?’ Margit countered with a scoff. ‘HerChildrennever belonged to the Madsens. You surely don’t need me to remind you Trier refused to sell it to your benefactor?’

‘Of course not,’ Helle said, interceding. ‘But artists are temperamental sorts; highly irrational, as we all know. Trier had a tantrum and sold it to a passing stranger because he wanted to prove to himself that he wasn’t Bertram Madsen’s puppet.’ She shrugged. ‘He made his point – but at what cost?He sold the painting out of the country, not knowing at the time that he would never surpass it; that it would prove to be his greatest work and masterpiece.’ Her mouth tipped at the side. ‘We believe tempers have cooled since then and that he would have wantedHer Childrento sit alongside the rest of his body of work.’

‘Well, whateveryoubelieve he would have wanted is immaterial, I’m afraid,’ Margit said dismissively. ‘As I have made plain to you on countless occasions – and no matter which politicians you lobby –Her Childrenis not for sale. And as for this assertion of restitution...’

Helle reached for some paperwork in her bag as Max rested one arm on the table. He looked incredibly calm. Too calm.

‘I’ve just returned from some meetings in Zurich,’ he said.

Zurich? Was that where he’d been at the beginning of the week? Darcy watched him, listening to his strategy unfold and feeling as if she were underwater – breath held, her perspective skewed. She had thought he was closer to her than he ever really had been.

‘We’ve had a forensic specialist looking into the provenance ofHer Children.’

‘The provenance?’ Otto asked, looking disbelieving. ‘But that’s been well established for years.’

‘To an extent.’

Margit gave a bark of disagreement. ‘To the full extent! Trier sold it directly to Walter Fleishman, a German banker, in August 1922. It remained in his possession until it was sold in 1940. It was then held in a private collection for twelve years before selling again at auction in Dusseldorf in 1952, where we repurchased it on behalf of the Danish state.’

‘That’s right.’

‘And there’s a paper trail to prove all of that.’

‘I agree.’

Margit blinked, perturbed. ‘So, then, I’m afraid I don’t understand what your issue is.’

He took his time replying, in no rush to explain himself. ‘It has long been our belief that the transaction in 1940 was a forced sale. That Walter Fleishman was “obliged” by the Nazis to trade the painting for travel permits to Switzerland.’

‘What?’ Otto interrupted, looking outraged. But Max only slid his eyes briefly in his direction; Margit was his target. ‘The paperwork was fudged to make it look like a legal sale – but to all intents and purposes, Fleishman had a gun to his head. Under those circumstances, and under the auspices of the Washington Principles, we believe the transaction should be considered null and void.’

‘Absolutely not,’ Margit said flatly. ‘That is a hypothesis at most.’

‘Our specialist has put together a very persuasive – we would say convincing – case for this scenario.’

‘How?’ Otto demanded again. ‘Nothing of this nature has ever been suggested before.’

This time, Max looked at him. ‘He has been able to establish that the SS officer who oversaw the sale was implicated in at least two other forced sales, around the same time.’

‘Implicatedis still not proven,’ Otto said coldly.

There was a silence as everyone considered his words. Margit was staring at Max like a lion assessing a tiger. ‘Even if itwereproven that the sale was forced, the Madsen Foundation would be no more entitled to the painting than we are. In that scenario, it should be returned to Fleishman’s heirs.’

Max gave a single blink. ‘Our thoughts exactly. Which iswhy I’ve already met with them,’ he said, as if he had been hoping she would say exactly that. He looked to be relishing every point scored. ‘They’reready to file a claim for restitution.’

Margit sat back in her chair with a hard look as his meaning became apparent. This was afait accompli. ‘Ah. And if they get it, they’re prepared to sell it on to you’ She didn’t take her eyes off him, as if she could read his every thought. ‘The deal is already done. You’ve agreed a price.’

Max gave a minuscule shrug. He was half Margit’s age, but Darcy sensed they were seasoned adversaries.

For several moments, no one stirred at all, the tension in the room as thick as paint.

‘Of course, it would make for far better optics if this claim didn’t have to be filed at all,’ Helle said into the silence, setting down the papers she had pulled from her bag onto the table. ‘We would all be tied up in expensive litigation for years, which would only benefit the lawyers. A terrible wrong was committed against an innocent man, even if everyone further down the provenance chain traded in good faith. But now the injustice has come to light, wouldn’t it be better if everyone did the right thing, rather than having their hand forced?’

‘Her Childrenbelongs to the Danish people,’ Margit said firmly.

‘That is nationalist romanticism, Margit.’

---