Framed (20 page)
“We have all evening,” Ginny continued. “You will have plenty of time to see this wonderful work. Let’s start the story with Yaneque Duprey, owner of RunAround Courier Services. Yaneque?”
Rueful grins from the media greeted her as she stepped into the center of the room. Her confidence and rich voice commanded attention. “On a snowy day in December, ten years ago, I picked up a wrapped parcel from Jerry Berger at his studio in Douglass. Unfortunately, a short time later, I was involved in a serious accident in the Temple Pass. When I regained consciousness three days later, I had lost all memory of that day. My memory is still fragmented; however, I do have a receipt from the estate of Mr. Berger that proves I made a pickup from him that day.” She laid the yellowed paper on the small table next to the painting and stepped back into the audience.
Ginny named Chris Moran next. A small, tidy gentleman in his late sixties stepped forward. “In the spring of the next year, I was part of a work crew of Rotarians that cleaned up trash in the Pass twice a year. Among the things I found was a clipboard with some nearly dissolved paper and a parcel wrapped in paper and bubble wrap. The paper fell off when I lifted it up. Inside the bubble wrap was a painting. This very one.” He indicated the Berger. “I don’t know much about art, but I do know what I like.” He smiled, earning a laugh. “I took it home and then to my summer place on Cape Cod. My wife didn’t like it though, so I took it to my favorite watering hole, Cap’n Billy’s.” He nodded to Matt Baldwin, who took a few hesitant steps forward, looking to Ginny for encouragement.
“I’m a bahkeepah, not a public speakah,” he began in his strong accent. “I owned Cap’n Billy’s for yeahs, and one night Chris theah come in and says, ‘My wife don’t like this. Put it up over the bah and I’ll come visit my girlfriend every night.’ That’s what he called that painting, ‘my girlfriend.’ So I hung it up and left it theah. Then when I decided to sell out, well, Chris, he hadn’t been around for a while, so I sold the girlfriend with the bah. And, well, that’s my story.” He hastened to the back of the room and caught up his drink with relief.
Next was Jack Morgan, looking more brushed up than Tom would have expected from Ginny’s description of her phone call with him. “I bought Cap’n Billy’s from Matt about three-four yeahs ago. The painting was theah the whole time I was. After a while I wanted to retire, so I sold the bah and put the furnishings up for auction. The picture, too.” He paused and looked at it more closely. “It sure looks a whole lot better all cleaned up and framed.”
Bob Rudolph took up the story next. “My part in this is pure serendipity. I work on the Cape now and then, and I used to like going to Cap’n Billy’s when I was there. I’d sit at the bar and look at the Lady—well, I was single then, so why not? When I heard it was up for auction, I decided I wanted to have a souvenir of my bachelor days. So I bought it to put in our home here in Westford. My wife Jenna decided to get the painting cleaned up, and she brought it to Brush and Bevel.”
Ginny returned to the center of the room. “I was a friend and agent of Jerry’s for a long time, and I still serve his estate when it comes to reproductions of his work. When Jenna brought this piece in, I recognized his style, and once my wonderful staff had cleaned up the painting, we found Jerry’s signature to confirm it. So here we are with this lovely gift from the past. Isn’t it beautiful?” She led another round of applause. As it died down she continued, “But a strange thing happened. There was this line of red dripping from the model’s hand. It turned out to be watercolor paste, added on top of the varnish Jerry always used to finish his works. We didn’t understand what it meant. It was unlike anything I’d ever seen in any of his work and it troubled me. Then my employee Elsie Kimball was out in the woods near Douglass, training her bird dog Maculato. She found these rocks.” She pointed to them, and Elsie spoke up.
“My coworker Sue Bradley and I went out to confirm they were the same rocks as in the painting. At the same time Mr. Berger—Howard, I mean—found a photo in Jerry’s archives showing Abby Bingham posing in the rocks. We really went to confirm this was the site where the painting was made. But something else happened.”
Without waiting for an introduction, Sue took up the narrative. “While we were there, we found some little red stones under the alder bush that you can see painted in the right hand section of the picture. Officer DiAndreo was with us, and we dug up an old cash box buried under the bush.”
“Inside the box were some appraisals,” Tom said, actually relieved to finally be sharing his piece of the story. “Based on those appraisals, the model’s former husband and a jeweler were indicted today for the murder of Jerry Berger and Abby Bingham. Those of you who were in court today,” he looked at several of the reporters, “already know as much as we do about the case.”
Despite the questions being called out, Ginny said firmly, “But tonight is a celebration of this beautiful work by an artist we all loved. We cannot talk about the court case, but we can enjoy the last painting Jerry Berger ever completed. Bob and Jenna, we thank you so much for sharing it with us. And we can also announce two things.” Her ringing voice silenced the hum in the room. “Jenna and Bob have agreed to a limited edition printing of this work, to be issued once the legalities are complete. Proceeds from the prints will go toward a fund for art education in the local schools. That is very generous. Thank you.”
Bob and Jenna blushed and smiled as they received another round of applause.
“And finally,” Ginny said, “when they are ready to part with the
Lady in the Wood
, it will become the property of the Sullivan Museum in Mill Falls, where it will be available for viewing forever. Thank you one last time, and thank you to the Sullivan for their help in making it all possible. Now, please enjoy yourselves. Help yourselves to food and drink. Elsie, Sue, and I will be here to answer any questions we can.”
Ginny stepped to Tom’s side as most of the crowd surged forward to look at the painting. Several of the reporters, however, hovered near her, Elsie and Sue, trying to get more information. The women readily answered questions about identifying and cleaning the painting, but refused all questions about the murders. Finally one reporter closed his notebook and muttered, “From what I heard, it was a really nasty little frame.”
Sue nudged Tom with her elbow and nodded toward the
Lady
, where Jenna and Bob stood proudly and possessively with their hands on the wide gold moulding. Her lips twitched and Tom leaned in to hear her.
“Actually,” she declared, her head held high, “it’s a gorgeous big frame. Brush and Bevel can frame anything!”
A word about the author...
Nikki Andrews has worked as a picture framer, craft store clerk, and administrative assistant, but in her real life she is a writer, editor, and songmaker. She is a member of Talespinners and the New Hampshire Writers Project, and has published two science fiction novels and several short stories. When she’s not at her desk, she might be releasing salmon fry on the Piscataquog River, making jams or sweaters, or exploring her surroundings on foot, bike or snowshoe. She lives near a waterfall in New Hampshire with her wonderful husband, a possessive cat, and assorted wildlife.
Nikki enjoys hearing from readers, so contact her at http://www.scrivenersriver.blogspot.com
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