A is For Arson: A Langley & Porter Mystery (FIRST FIVE CHAPTERS)

5 The Collector

"What do you mean 'given what happened'? Why couldn't the artist sell the paintings himself?"

Mr. Herbert glanced my way for the first time then. I had made my way over to them and stood only a few feet away from him next to Mr. Langley.

"It isn't... quite for a lady to hear."

I felt a faint hint of amusement at the wealthy Mr. Herbert referring to me as a lady but kept my comments to myself as Mr. Langley encouraged him.

"Miss Porter is my investigative partner," Mr. Langley told him. "I assure you. She can handle whatever it is that you have to say."

I fought the urge to look at my employer. Was he so certain I could? Did he not consider me a lady? Of course he didn't, I scolded myself. He knew better.

"Well, Mr. Guillard was quite unable to sell his own works after his... well, after his suicide, you see."

I felt my hands fly up to cover my open mouth. How dreadful.

"Suicide?" Mr. Langley asked curiously. "When was this?"

"A couple of weeks ago," Mr. Herbert answered, looking apologetically my way. But I had recovered quickly enough and my mind had moved on to another conundrum. Mr. Langley had not known about Mr. Guillard's suicide which meant that it likely was not in the police file he had been given which meant that we were wasting our time unless there was something specifically tying Mr. Guillard to this string of stolen paintings and if that were the case than this was, perhaps, an entirely different investigation and we should be approaching it in another way.

"Mr. Herbert," I began and he smiled kindly at me. "You said that you heightened your security once you learned that many of your friends had their paintings stolen?"

"Yes, dear," he answered. I tried to ignore the condescension.

"Were those paintings Guillards?"

"Yes."

"All of them?" Mr. Langley interjected, his curiosity getting the best of him when he realized what I had intended with my line of questioning. Mr. Herbert paused for a moment to think but then nodded.

"Yes, all of them."

"Mr. Herbert, do you recall who it was that put those paintings up for auction?"

"I do indeed. A fellow by the name of Louis Dubois. He was a friend of Vincent Guillard's, claimed to have had his permission to sell his works. Though we found out afterwards that was not the case."

"How did you find that out?"

"One of the men who had been at the auction read about Mr. Guillard's suicide in the paper and put it together that the paintings had to have been sold after the death of the artist which seemed quite odd. We went to the treasurer of the auction who confronted Mr. Dubois and he confessed that Mr. Guillard had never given him express permission to sell his work. It was too late by then, though, you see. Because the paintings had been sold and the money collected."

Mr. Langley nodded and bit his lip, brow creased in concentration. Mr. Herbert seemed to be waiting for him to continue the conversation, fidgeting nervously after his admission that he had purchased stolen art, but my employer seemed lost in thought. I could tell that Mr. Herbert felt guilty about his role in the illegal sale though I quite agreed with him that it was no fault of his own if he truly hadn't the slightest idea that the work had not been sold with the permission of the artist. Mr. Langley did not seem eager to assuage our host's guilt, however, choosing to remain in thoughtful silence and stare up at that strange clock once more. After a few moments of awkward silence, I decided to break the tension with a request of my own. "You said you still had one of the paintings here?"