Page 38 of The Chase
“Sure.”
Together we lifted the portrait off its hanger and carried it over to an antique table, laying it down with the reverence both deserved.
“The framing’s modern.” Ruefully, I shook my head. “There’s our first clue. Though it could have been reframed. There’s no hint of exposure to open fires or pipe smoke, or any other signs of aging to the canvas. Unless this was stored in an oxygen deprived facility...which...”
“They didn’t have back then.”
“Sorry, Tobias.”
He reached for the back of the frame and inserted his fingers between the canvas and ripped hard, separating it from the other. “How about this one?”
My palm slammed to my mouth.
“Focus,” he said, amused.
“What did you do?”
“Look.”
“Behind it?”
“Yes.” He gestured for me to come closer.
Stepping forward, I peered over the top of the frame and there she lay,La Maja Desnuda, the exact same painting we were just looking at but the subject now completely nude, her pose mirroring the first.
“Oh my God,” I said in a rush. “She’s gorgeous.”
“Whenever you’re ready.” He handed me back my magnifier.
I peered through it with one eye. “She’s painted in oil, so easy to replicate.”
“Tell me something I don’t know.”
I threw him a glare and he threw one back, and then he grinned and it was one of those cute, heart melting smiles, reminding me this was an adventure like no other.
He came round to stand beside me and his expression turned to awe. “Look at the detail. The colors are exquisite.”
“She really is beautiful.”
“Zara, do you feel her presence? She stirs a visceral response.”
“Yes.”
“So much secrecy around her.”
I gave a nod, mesmerized by the way the artist painted the light around her. “La Majawas never exhibited during Goya’s lifetime.”
Peering through my magnifier again, I leaned closer. “Colors are pure. No modern palettes. All the touches of Goya, his diagonal signature is the same sweep of ana.” I raised my line of sight to look at Tobias. “Perhaps you can ask to see the paperwork? Track its provenance?”
He waved that off. “Later.”
Admiring the colors, I went to run my fingertip along the lower corner. Tobias grabbed my hand.
“Of course,” I said. “It’s instinctive.”
“No fingerprints.”
A door slammed from somewhere out there and made me jump.
