A Not So Perfect Crime Read Online Free Page B

that the matter bringing me here is strictly confidential. Some people have spoken most highly of you, Mr Masdéu, particularly of your discretion. I hope I can rely on you in this respect.”
    I noticed he was observing me out of the corner of one eye.
    â€œYou can rely on me. And on Eduard, my partner. I suppose you’ve gathered we work together. I may be the more visible face of our firm, but you can trust my partner as if he were myself. In fact, Eduard and I are like brothers.” He smiled knowingly: “Don’t worry. Nothing we discuss here will go beyond these walls. Do tell us what the problem is.”
    â€œIt is a painting,” Mr Font replied laconically.
    â€œOne you want to buy or sell?” asked Borja matter-offactly.
    â€œWell, neither, really. It is ...” he hesitated before continuing, “... a picture I now have in my office that I bought a few days ago.”
    â€œIs it an antique? A collector’s item?” Borja was warming to the chase.
    â€œNo, the painter is still with us.”
    â€œThen you think it’s a fake, perhaps stolen ...” ventured Borja, raising his eyebrows. The same question was on the tip of my tongue.

    â€œNo, nothing of that sort ...” the MP cleared his throat. “The painting is genuine and I purchased it legally through a dealer.”
    It was obvious he found it difficult to explain himself and was getting really agitated. We needed get to the point as soon as possible, because our office heating didn’t work. The wrought-iron radiators looked a treat but they are also part of our act and my feet were freezing. I guess his were too.
    â€œWell, then? What is your problem?” asked Borja in that mellifluous tone he sometimes uses.
    â€œWhat is at issue is that the portrait ...” the MP wavered once more. “I mean to say the woman modelling is my wife,” he drawled, measuring his words and trying to conceal his unease at his confession.
    â€œAh! ...” we both exclaimed in unison.
    Borja and I looked at each other askance. From the way our client was behaving, there was every possibility we had another case of infidelity on our hands. That I find particularly distasteful.
    â€œAre you suggesting the portrait of your wife in the painting isn’t what you were expecting? That you’re not happy with it?” asked Borja egging him on.
    â€œNo, in fact ... do you see,” the MP finally decided to get to the point, “I had no idea my wife had been modelling.” He paused. “I mean I was very shocked when I came across a portrait of my wife in an exhibition,” he finally confessed.
    â€œPerhaps there’s nothing more to it, and your wife just wanted to give you a surprise ...” Borja suggested warily. “Perhaps she had it in mind as a Christmas present.”
    â€œI don’t think so,” he said shaking his head. “I discovered the painting by chance in a catalogue I receive through the post (fine art is a hobby of mine and I subscribe to some gallery publications). It seems the portrait in question was shown in an art-show held in Paris, and indeed the painting merited a whole-page reproduction in the exhibition catalogue.”
    â€œYou don’t say!” whispered my brother.
    â€œThe artist,” the politician added, ignoring his reaction, “is a Catalan painter who is well-known to connoisseurs. From what I have read, apparently he now lives in Barcelona, but that is all I do know. I don’t think he is exhibited much here ... But of course,” he shifted uneasily on the sofa and caught his breath, “you can imagine how astonished I was to discover Lídia in one of his paintings ...”
    And then he added: “Worst of all, the paintings went on show in a very famous Paris art gallery!”
    The MP was furious and his face gradually reddened beneath the fake brown veneer. With good reason. There are many ways you